Noctem AeternamA Story by Ma'atThe
cool morning light shone through the pale windows of an old Victorian house
dripping with cobwebs and coated with dust. This home that I speak of is
located on a neighborly, peaceful street called Grey Ocean. No one really knows
why, for there was no ocean anywhere near. Life here was pleasant. There were
sunny little stores entirely constructed of wood, cedar and oak. There was a
ski resort, and in the winter business blossomed like a flower in spring. There
was plenty to do in this town, although it was mainly unknown, with the
exception of the residential villages and towns on the outskirts. Before I get back to the Victorian
house, I will mention the citizens of this town. There were a few
year-rounders, nut most leave, only to return in the winter. They were a
friendly group, very homely and kind. But they all moved there. It was
uncertain who had been born here and stayed. Did it cross the mind of the
citizens? Of course. But no one said they tell. The old, worn, wooden boards of
the floor in the Victorian house creaked ominously. The house had a dim light
inside, since the windows were covered in ash and dust, giving the light coming
through an aged glow. The aging light poured through,
onto the ancient yellowed keys of a greying black piano. There
was a marble pedestal near the piano, what had once been on it was unknown.
There was a smooth, sunken-in curve in its center, confirming that there had been something on it. Looking around, the interior of
the house was mainly like this. Grey and dim and secrets lurking in all
corners, everything hidden. It was dusty and rather gloomy, but entirely
fascinating. This house had been here since
Mr. Mortemer had discovered the town. His son, Lucifer, had found the house and
loved it. He had loved it so much that he
had moved there with his wife, Adreanna,
shortly after they were married. They had one daughter, Lucem, who outlived
them both. She took the name Lucem deMortemer, merely because she liked how it
sounded, or so she said. She was a beautiful girl, all
the young men had been in love with her. She refused them all, because she
claimed to be as “independent as a lone fish in the vast ocean”. Lucem had hated the town for no
reason anyone could see. Her father,
Lucifer, always was concerned about her for it. Mr. Mortemer had been the same
way right up to his death, always saying to her, “you will, you will”. Lucem’s generation was the
generation of the parents of the children living in the town now. It was
clearly a young town, to those living there. But they were oblivious to its
history, not referring to Mr. Mortemer. Earlier, I had said that this
Victorian house had been here since Mr. Mortemer had discovered it, if you
remember. That means this house had been there for a while. No one knows who
the first owner was, it was one of the many secrets of this town. Lucem had lived in this house
alone. She was the one who played the piano, the one who smiled brightly at the
aged light that entered the pale windows.
She was the light of this town. When her parents had died, she
inherited the rights of owning the property. She
wasn’t happy with that. Yet again, people had asked her what her “deal” was with
owning the Victorian house. She had answered, “I am not going to be trapped in
the eternal darkness. I refuse.” They had given her a blank look.
That always was her answer, and she never had explained herself. Lucem had inhabited her parents’
old bedroom, in a deep melancholy mood that had drowned her of all light she
had once possessed. She had wrriten all her personal emotions and thoughts in a
faded black journal, tied with string. They were written in Latin, translated
to things like: “I am forever drowning in the eternal dark ocean,
flailing, not breathing in this formidable struggle of what is right and what
is wrong.” “No one
can see it except for me…lost, weak, fearful me… they don’t see the looming shadow
of pure, hateful darkness about to encase us in a black hole, where the force
of gravity is so strong and it is so dense that no light can get through.” “It is
coming nearer and nearer, growing more intimidating by the second. I don’t know
how I will face something of this sort. It makes me ill to think of it,
something so constructed of evil and darkness that it cannot absorb any light
or truth.” “The
darkness is planning to encircle this town…and everything in it. And it has
planned to start with me.” Lucem had turned into a frightful young woman, easily startled by the simplest things. She
jumped at a leaf falling, a mere “hello” from a friend. She developed dark
circles under her true-green eyes from lack of sleep. She was losing herself. She
claimed that demons were coming, planning to take control of their minds.
Everyone laughed and told her to go get a drink of water. “I have
to save them.” Lucem
hadn’t entirely given up. She had known there was a way. A way for her to
protect the town. She
had decided that the only way to protect the town was not to attempt to
convince them, but to wait for the darkness to come. “I may not have the power to convince them, but I have
the power to save them.” So Lucem had continued to write her story in the worn
black journal, and continued to panic at the impending darkness. She felt it
strongly. People
in the town recall her yelling through the streets, “PROTECT FROM SELF! PROTECT
FROM SELF!” No one knew why she yelled that phrase or what it meant. She
had waved her arms above her head, shouting, “PROTECT FROM SELF! “ at everyone
who had walked by the day. Everyone
had then believed she had gone insane. ~ Lucem’s final days
had come. She had claimed the darkness she had been speaking of was here. Again,
no one had believed her. But it was not her intention for them to believe her. “They will believe it when they see it
themselves.” Lucem had then prepared for the darkness by going
into her parents’ old bedroom and sitting on the dusty carpet. She took a deep
breath and closed her eyes. Two minutes later, her eyes opened. They appeared
hollowed-out like a skull, soulless, lifeless. They were pure black, the color
of a night without stars. They were like black holes. “MORTEM!” she had then
screamed. A high, piercing, scream like a banshee. It had the ability to
paralyze someone mid-step. “MORTEM!” she had screamed
again. She rolled over on the dusty, grey carpet, screaming frighteningly in
Latin. “Mortem!” “Nox aeterna!” “Inferos!” “Tueri se!” “TUERI SE!” Lucem deMortemer then collapsed from her struggle, and
her black eyes closed forever, free from her pain. Her hand slapped against her
journal, revealing only its title. “Noctem Aeternam.” By Daniela Marquez © 2014 Ma'atAuthor's Note
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Added on May 3, 2014Last Updated on May 3, 2014 Tags: horror, fantasy, self-conflict, personality, possession, mind, ignorance, life, past, unknown, self Author
Ma'atCTAboutHello i'm Daniela, a teenager who lives in the northeastern USA my profile pic is not me, its Matty Healy writing and music are a huge part of my life i like to write poems, stories, and books t.. more..Writing
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