Darkness filled the cave, not darkness that came from a lack of light, but a darkness that was made, formed, created. It was a tangible thing. Moving in it you could feel it like air currents pass over your skin and taste it in the air like copper and abandonment. There was a noise in the room, hard to decipher at first as the world was so dark and all sounds seemed muted in the velvet envelope of it. No, no there it was. A drip, a drop from a great height.
The dripping sound was constant. It had an echo to it, belying the size of the room it came into. It was neither pleasant to hear nor was it a bane on the eardrums. It was simply a drip. it happened once or twice every minute. A constant thing, never pausing for more than thirty seconds or so.
If one were to walk a little farther into the stifling darkness, it would get louder, the sound of it hitting something hard and unyielding obvious the first time that you hear it. Like water on a rock, but it was too thick for water, it had weight to it, the sound and the substance itself.
A flash as bright as the sun, a momentary one is all, and revealed is the great Dark Goddess, Siobhan. Queen and Creator of all that was and could be. She stared at the bowl-shaped indentation where the drip hit, had been hitting for as long as time had been. Her eyes were focused on the center of the valley in the rock. Her pink tongue sitting just outside her mouth, black lips surrounding it, amethyst eyes that illuminated all above them.
It was hard to read the emotions on her face. They were many at once, yet one was so very clear. it was etched in her as solid as if it had been carved on the rock She sat upon.
Siobhan could, and did, create anything at will, all her needs instantly and overwhelmingly fulfilled. Yet She looked at drop hitting the rock with its rhythmic thump and with every splash of it, her breath would catch the briefest moment before She relaxed and the cycle repeated.
Looking up, tot he vast height the drop came from a needle’s point of light entered the room. It disappeared with every new drop, ut as you watch the drop fall, as you watch the now obvious crimson hue of it as it cascades down towards its inevitable destruction, the life force that it was reflects in the scant light given off by Siobhan herself.
It was easy to come by, blood. She had donors, slaves, willing participants, but it was not enough. She needed a thing She could not place her finger on just yet and so She stared with longing as the blood of the world slowly made its way to a single point and dripped into the underbelly of all that was and splashed into nothingness in front of the Greatest Mother, the Darkest Queen the Sweetest Goddess.
Each drip, each moment, endless.
The amethyst of the eyes slowly leaving, the cavern filling with the crimson color that dripped forever from above. The darkness about her total and complete as She uttered a sentence, a command.
“Summon The Hunt Master.”
© 2019, TheJameyBear. All rights reserved.
I am JameyBear. Liberal. Hippie. Dad. Widower. Poet. Author. Sarcastic Ass. Friend. Lover. Hater.
I have lied and cheated, stolen and done violence in word and deed.
I have given the shirt off my back and they wanted the skin underneath instead.
I am a notorious soft touch, wearing my heart on my sleeve and wanting to make everyone happy.
I tip too much, too often, too many places, and it is has burned me even as recent as this week.
I love everyone I have ever hated still. I will always love the memory of being in love with them.
I want to be your friend. No. I want you to want me to be your friend.
I am clingy and needy, dependent and hopelessly lost in times that I will never live in.
I use language that was archaic when archaic was a new word in the early 19th century.
I want to record myself reading everything so people won’t forget me when I disappear.
I talk too much, listen too deeply, process too quickly and infer way too much.
My beard is also better than yours