loganfarrow

Foreward Hey there, reader! The following is a short story I wrote over the course of a couple days. No AI was involved at any point. This story came as inspiration from a song of the same name by the Dutch band Blackbriar, who in many ways have acted as my muse back when I DM'd for D&D. I wanted to evoke similar feelings of mystery and intrigue amidst the paranormal, and ask the question: "Who indeed reaches out from beyond the grave?" I encourage you to check out their music if you might enjoy gothic faery tales embroidered in rhythms of metal and captivating soliloquy. And finally, I'd like to mention that I am posting this on mobile, and I grabbed the story from hibernating on my Google Drive for the last several months so I apologize if the formatting is a bit odd. Just excited to finally share this with the world! Be kind and please let me know what you found that worked or could use improvement! Have a great day and thank you for reading! The Seance “Hello dear,” says the woman, “I’m very glad to see you. I knew of your arrival for some time and have anticipated our conversation.” The woman wears an embroidered bandana of purple over her wavy brown hair. Silvery earrings shaped like crescents adorn her ears, matching the numerous bangles and her general ensemble. She wears a golden ring bearing a single stud of sapphire crystal, contrasting against the waves of silver along her wrists. “Allow me to introduce myself, as you have been clear to me for some time now. A blessing of my clairvoyance, you understand.” Her hands slip below the table and retrieves a card. She flips the card over and slides it across the table. On it is a caricature of a woman clutching a crystal ball. “You speak now to Madame Audrey, soothsayer and mystic speaker of the dead, your line to those who have passed beyond our mortal coil.” In one smooth motion, Madame Audrey slips two additional cards out from underneath the first. The second and third cards depict two additional caricatures: a lady in flowing silks and crown, and an apparition twisting around the fingers of a boney claw. “As one might expect,” she continues after a pause, “I commune with the dead on behalf of the living. You, no doubt, have a connection to one who has passed beyond the veil. A loved one, perhaps? No- no, not just loved, but a Lover. Yes, of course. I can feel the energy around us. I-” Audrey halts suddenly, her body shivering in place like an uncontrolled muscle spasm. It works its way up from her lower half, hidden beneath the table, through her torso and out through her arms and head. In a final aftershock, Audrey spasms once more before her focus returns. “Ah, such power in this spirit! Her love for you is strong. And yes, yes it is a her I can tell. She is why you’ve come.” All signs of Audrey’s momentary shock and awe vanished. In a flash, the tarot cards have masterfully been replaced beneath the table. Madame Audrey retrieves a full deck and places it on the tabletop, next to a large round item hidden beneath a short silk cloth. The deck of cards reflects nicely in the moody light of the room. Dark matte print with silver foil coats each of the cards as she spreads them across the table. With practiced strokes of her arm, Audrey places five of the cards on the table away from her. “Now you see, these are known as tarot cards. The spirits from beyond influence us in many ways, but to understand them you must know yourself and why a spirit clings to you. They are attracted to positive energy. Negative energy too, borne of hate and greed and lust for personal gain. If you should find themselves enveloped in negative energy, never seek an audience with the dead.” Audrey pauses, a brief shadow passing across her otherwise confident visage. As quickly as it appears, it is gone again. “A fallen loved one will leave many impressions upon your soul, but only by learning which impressions most powerfully course through your unconscious mind will you be able to join our communion. “Now then, dear.” Audrey relaxes in her chair slightly. “Sit with me and clear your mind as best as you can.” She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Good, good. Now I want you to listen closely as I guide you. Focus on the first of these five cards, the one that speaks to you.” Her hand hovers over the set of cards. Guided by what seems like fate, her hand lands on the card furthest on her left. “Ah, so this card speaks most closely to your unconscious mind? Very well, let us see…” Madame Audrey flips the first card. The now familiar image of the spirit in the grip of a skeletal hand appears. “Death,” she says coldly. “Death comes for us all eventually. You know this more than most, I am afraid. Sometimes naturally,” A sudden glistening streak appears down Audrey’s cheek. “-and sometimes abruptly. And it weighs heavily on us. A burden nearest to lead upon our chests, laboring every breath as though we, too, were in the casket beside them. Pain and sorrow muddy our feet and make it difficult to pass on.” Audrey stares coldly forward, the moment passing in chilled silence. Then, as quickly as the feeling of dread began it passes and Audrey continues. “Often times, Death is the hardest and most prescient emotion. It is unsurprising that you choose this card first. Go ahead, dear. Choose the second card.” Once more, Audrey’s hand floats above the tabletop as the choice is made. The second card flips from the middle of the row, showing a silver-leafed wolf partially obscured by a gold-leafed shepherd. Both are howling under the sightless visage of a face painted across the white sphere. “The Moon,” reacts Audrey, her hand withdrawing to clutch her arm, “represents fear, it represents the imagination- often manifesting our doubts and desires. Loneliness, fear of the unknown- Abyss.” Audrey slowly caresses her shoulder. A drop of moisture appears suddenly on her arm. “Truly, I know not the loss and sorrow you bring, but it is palpable. You don’t know how to live without her, understandable given how fresh a wound- yes, yes this was recent. You poor dear.” Her eyes glisten as she pauses. The moment of tender silence is brief. “The wolf howls in the night to communicate with those they’ve lost or are looking for. Sometimes it is to ward off intruders to their territory, but often they send signals to the pack that they are near. A primitive form of telephony. You wish to send your loved one a signal, or perhaps for her to send one of her own back to you.” Audrey looks up from the card. “Your mind is focused. The intensity with which you wish to be heard- wish to hear from her-” A pause. A shiver. A spasm. “She is here with us. Do not be distracted. Choose your next card.” Her hand hovers. It slowly guides over to the unflipped card between Death and the Moon. She flips the card, revealing a nude woman beneath a shining golden star. One leg extends into a pool of water, while the other kneels against the soft earth. From each hand, the woman pours water onto both the pool and the earth. Unlike the other two cards, this one is rotated such that the bottom of the card points toward Audrey. “The Star. Reversed,” Audrey says flatly, an echo of emotion stifled. “Is there perhaps something unfinished you had with her? A grief, or a burden shared between you that you feel guilt for? A reversed Star signifies self-importance, sometimes arrogance or an inability to commit. Were you- were you married or- no, you were engaged. I see. No, no- I don’t mean to pry. I would never force you to do what you were unwilling to do, love.” Audrey’s arms cross, her hands on each shoulder now as if battling a chill in the air. “I apologize. The spirits near have sensed greater emotional depth here, the reaction tends to sap the warmth from a room.” As if to emphasize her point, each word spoken puffs a light mist of visible air. “I will remain. The cold does not bother me too deeply, and it is in service to the spirits that I bear it gladly. Please continue.” Audrey’s hands reluctantly return over the two remaining cards. The fourth card in the row now. She flips the card. “No…” A dark hush falls, the dim lights darken. The veil of silence lifts, light returns. The word snuffed out as quickly as it’s spoken. The card revealed bears the silver body of a topless man with black, furry legs crossed in a sitting position. One hand is raised beside his goat’s head and horns of gold. Beneath this goatman are a naked man and woman bearing small golden protrusions from their foreheads. “The Devil,” Audrey continues, tone neutral. “This card is dangerous, though perhaps not for the reasons you perceive. Many would see the Devil and immediately think ‘evil’ and ‘corruption’, however these are hasty assumptions.” Audrey’s finger toys with the card. “Depending on its orientation, standard in your case, the Devil might represent anger and violence. Perhaps a visceral reaction to some horrific event, like lashing out to those around you. It is okay, this is a natural reaction to loss. Comfort does not come easy to one who has lost so much.” The card spins in place as Audrey fidgets with it. “When rotated in reverse, however, the Devil might represent an evil deed or weakness in yourself. Deceipt. Pettiness. Guilt. Murder.” Audrey leaves the card half-rotated. Her hand shifts over back to the previously flipped card. “The Star has a hidden meaning in the transition of the woman from earth to water. At times, one might see this as a transition from one realm to the other.” Madame Audrey clutches her arm, which now moves with purpose. The flesh of her skin prickles as the temperature drops further. “But! It can equally represent the transition of one’s life through a major event.” Whispers indistinctly echo in the space around Audrey. “M-Marriage,” she stutters. Eyes glistening, her hand slams down on to the card. A trickle of blood runs down her ear. “Loss,” she moans. Tears fall in streams now. She draws her hands back and clutches at her ears. “Tragedy,” she chokes. The final card flips of its own accord, depicting a silver tower borne out from golden clouds. Fires appear where there are windows along its height. The card spins in place, stopping momentarily each rotation. The whispers grow louder, more distinct. “Often seen as the Tower of Babel,” says Audrey matter of factly with tears now freeflowing from her eyes, “the tellings are wrong. For God did not simply destroy Babylon. The stories say that as we united together, that we became a threat. That God could not stand for us to be so strong that we could live without Him.” “Audrey?” Audrey returns her arms, crossing them tightly across her waist. All five cards begin to spin in place. “And so great in their union were the people that God sought to confuse them. No longer could they speak to each other, for each person now spoke a new language. Mothers heard their babies cry but their soothing gave way only to despair.” Her hair begins to stand tall as if in a frigid gust. “So close were the people, that this inability to speak hurt them terribly. Shattered them. Caused a rift in them that would break any ordinary person. But they were not ordinary people. They were strong.” “Audrey.” The cards stacked in the deck begin to rotate randomly in place. “After ‘His’ work was done, the people were scattered. Ripped apart. Flung across the world so far that there was never a hope to reunite.” The cards spun faster, faster. A wind swirled around the woman, lifting the table skirts and knocking trinkets off of shelves. “Together, in health and even in sickness, they were too strong. The punishment was unceasing-” Audrey’s tears begin to turn red. They merge with the puddle slowly forming on the table. “Audrey!” The cards stopped. “Til on death, did they part this world alone.” “Hello dear,” says the woman, “I’m very glad to see you. I knew of your arrival for some time and- Oh, the spirits are excited. We have spoken before, haven’t we? It is odd that I could not foretell such a recurrence. The curse of clairvoyance is my sight is ever focused in the future, and perhaps less so on the past.” Audrey settles herself on the tabletop. She places a coaster over a small red stain in the embroidered purple fabric and grasps at the clothed object beside her, revealing the crystal sphere beneath it. “The memories return slowly now. The spiritual energy all around us speak of- of Revelations. Y-Yes, a powerful feeling.” Audrey traces a finger across the sphere, which swirls with a vortex of sparkling mist within. “You are here to speak to her. The spirit lingering in transition from mortality to the beyond. She is stuck. She cannot cross over. She… she is waiting for you.” “She blames you.” The sphere swirls even quicker, mist condensing into moist droplets on the crystalline surface. “And she misses you.” Clarity comes to the sphere as the mist collapses into a small point. Now a glasslike marble, like an infinitoid in which only a single grain of time waits, the sphere pulls. A single set of eyes peer from the sphere. “Those eyes…” says Audrey, softly. Disbelieving. “I know those eyes, but I cannot know them?” Soft eyes, full of strength and concern. “Concern for what?” The cloth covers the sphere once more. “I apologize, for the spirits can at times play cruel pranks if left unchecked. This is why the tarot reading was important. To- to clarify the mind from intrusive thoughts and feelings. To keep away trickster spirits!” Madame Audrey places the crystal sphere on a nearby shelf, out of sight. “Let us try something else,” she says, pulling a vinyl record player from elsewhere, hidden on another shelf. “We shall instead attempt to let the spirits speak to us through the winds themselves. For this room is a Portal. Spirits can enter the material world through such a Portal, and in doing so can interact in small ways with us here- but they need guidance!” Audrey smirks as she fiddles with the record player, retrieving a large disc and placing it under the needle. “This vinyl is special,” she continues. “For though it plays a soft melody, it cannot overpower a message from beyond. Observe, as the spirits guide the tunnel of air into voices we can hear.” She places the needle against the record and starts the machine. Soft sounds emit for a brief instant before a much louder, stranger sounds echo forth. Timed in a rhythm, they replay again and again the same notes as if through a modulated organ, when suddenly voices start to emerge. The voices stun Audrey in place as they sing. Her already fair skin pales further. They were not the voices of the dead, not at all. This was a single voice, and it was singing. “Come on, come on,” sang the voice. “Turn a little faster.” Emotions flit across Audrey’s face as she shakes violently in place. Like the spasms before, she is enraptured in motions completely beyond her control. Her mouth opens, silently screaming. “Come on, come on. The world will follow after.” Regaining brief control, Audrey claws at the record player, searching for a mechanism to shut off the machine. She attempts to yank the power cord that does not exist. “Come on, come on,” sings the voice, undaunted. “Because everybody’s after love.” She screams. A cry of raw fury. The needle rises violently, snapping under Audrey’s malevolant force. Silence bathes the scene as though the tune of a crypt. A deep, terrifying silence that haunts even the abyss. Breathing. Shallow, fitful breathing. Lungfuls of air passing through clenched teeth as though through stubborn chimes. Her mouth opens to scream. The void consumes it. “Hello dear,” says the woman, her eyes and ears bloody. “I’m very... glad to see you. I knew of you. Your arrival, that is... for some time and- She is waiting.” “Audrey? Can you hear me?” “No.” “No? She said ‘No!’ I heard it this time, Sal!” “Get. Out.” Audrey grinds the words beneath her clenched jaw. “Audrey, it’s me!” “No.” “It’s Glen, your husband! Audrey, can you hear me?” “I... refuse.” “What? What do you refuse? Do you refuse me?” “Refuse…” “Baby please, please talk some sense to me. What’s happening?” “No,” she growled. The room, an inky black void surrounding the tattered cloth-covered table, drips on to Audrey’s incorporeal form. “I refuse.” “What do you refuse?” “To die!” “Hello dear,” says the woman, “I’m very glad to see you. I knew you would arrive for some time now and have anticipated our conversation.” The woman wears an embroidered bandana of purple over her messy brown hair. Silvery earrings shaped like crescents adorn her ears, matching the numerous bangles and her general ensemble. She is missing a ringfinger on one hand. The table shutters. A muffled voice, as though gagged, attempts to find air. “Allow me to introduce myself, as you have been made clear to me for some time now. A blessing of my clairvoyance, you understand.” Her hands slip below the table. The sounds of struggling rise. The creaking of wood and bone. Words, lost beneath a choking cough. Then silence. From beneath the table, she pulls a finger bearing a tarnished ring with a simple blue stone covered in some unrecognizeable material, dried sha des of brown and red. “You now listen to Madame Audrey. Soothsayer. Speaker. Of the dead.” Audrey’s voice strains. “Beloved... to those who have passed on.”

As the title states, I'm hoping to post some short stories and interact with some folks for tips, tricks, and critiques. I don't often get time to write, but I'd like to build up those muscles and organize my tacklebox of a brain into a more organized dispensary of fun thoughts and ideas. Dunno what else to put for an intro, but I'm also planning on posting a unique "2nd Person Perspective" story I wrote awhile back as my first piece; named "The Seance" and is about a woman allowing you (the viewer?) a moment's conversation with the world of the dead. Or... maybe something else entirely?