2013 -- 5.2 (Spring) Fiction

Eternal Revenge


As it goes I seek revenge, not of the lightest kind, where as one has had a jest played upon him, but in the sense of avenging what has been stolen from thyself. I have been robbed!

Where be the armed guards with shackles as to chain this thief and remove him, so that he not rob others as he has robbed me. Is there no justice?

Oh, Ruby lips that look to be as soft as rose petals, hair as brown as autumn leaves, cascading down her back, skin like that of a porcelain doll, and a bodice so slender with curves of a well developed maiden. Thus, behold an angel that had fallen out of the skies, right into thy arms.

Yes, as soon as I laid my eyes upon her, I claimed her to be mine, having her devote her love to me.

Loyal, complimenting her uniqueness, pronounced loi-ale, had promised her love to me and only me. We were inseparable, and we had an indescribable love. Then he thrust himself into our lives, so unexpectedly, but as always the ways of a thief; coming and chilling you with the swiftness of the wind. A poor beggar boy, whose visage of youthful looks was to be admired, something of him she of course enjoyed; thus stolen glances would imply.

I could only find one way to repay him, to repay them both, for I had come to realize their love so great, that nothing simple could destroy it. It was all to come about perfectly on the warm afternoon day, in a far away meadow, where lovers could live and rest in peace.

“Dermutio and my dear Loyal,” I greeted the two, with the utmost glee. If only to hide the need to spit.

“Ah Sir Vintner, you have requested that I and my lady join you on this beautiful afternoon in this lovely meadow, might I add,” he replied as his eyes lustfully glided over the meadow, with a grin only thieves and beggars wore. As for thy lady, she were as beautiful as I remembered her. Though did not, I recall the look of content as she glanced at her husband.

“Yes, you and your lady. I have come to admire your love and passion for one another, and bare a gift.”

I watched as the two lovers looked to one another, an unsure look passing over their faces.

“Do not take my words as an insult to you good sir, but as you are a man of little means, I dote on the opportunity to aid you in seeing to the well-being of thy fare maiden.”

As he stared into my eyes, I could see he wanted nothing more than to achieve this, nothing more than to keep his sweet Loyal from departing from his side.

“We gratefully accept Sir Vintner,” he agreed, as I moved forward to their long lasting gift of happiness. “Only a lowly man would settle for vengeful deeds, but you reciprocate with kindness.”

“Oh my dear friend, I would do nothing of the sort, revenge, what a wasteful deed, indeed. I seek only to aid your love in blossoming, to something more beautiful than what is.”

“Indeed Vintner.” I leered at him, as he informally addressed me. Then fought against my discomfort when Loyal leeched onto him with such love and compassion.

“I care dearly for my Loyal,” Dermutio doted. “She is my light and my peace, she is my happiness. A wonderful life can only come to me with her presence.”

“Oh how you drown her in compassion, oh what dying love. I only ask that you let me do the same onto you both.” I interjected, as I heard the stream that signaled our nearing to the lovers hut.

As we approached the hut, Loyal gasped her excitement, I could not help but notice as her supple breast moved with the gesture.

“It is to your liking Loyal?” I asked her, as I assumed she would. Woman always pursue treasure, but not all treasure is silver and gold.

“Yes, oh yes,” she replied.

Her eyes traveled over the stream that flowed beside the hut, and smiled brilliantly when a fish would fly up from the stream to greet us.

“Dermutio, if you’d please indulge me with your perception of revenge.” I welcomed him,  opening the door to the hut allowing them to view it with looks of pure pleasure.

“Oh Vintner you have out done yourself, as for revenge, it is disgraceful. How one can stoop so low, hmph, I will never know. A man of poor status indeed.”

“Poor status?”

“Poor status,” he confirmed, as we moved to a far back door. Which held their true gift.

“Oh but my friend, even the wealthiest of men could resort to such an act.”

“Rich in earnings and belongings, but broken and poor at heart.” In hearing this I caught his eyes and there I gave him a luring look of understanding. I could not deny him of how true his words were.

“In that my good and wise friend I must say I agree. Now, let us all continue this way then. I have built a cellar for you.”

“A cellar?” Loyal questioned.

“A cellar,” I confirmed, “You both know well that I birth the best wine there is to be created. So I gift you with plenty. Unless you are those who do not welcome the act of drinking.”

“I apologize in saying I do-”

“Oh no we’d love to gaze upon your kind givings,” Loyal interjected with greed, and hesitantly her dear Dermutio agreed.

We moved forward into the dark dank cellar, and my pulse quickened at the sound of water droplets dripping crashing to the ground like 2 ton boulder. The periodical drops making a sound as if to say time was running out, and that the moment was coming. I quickly grabbed a flambeaux, and continued forward. As we passed many bottles of wines, the sound of droplets rung in my ears.

“Vintner, how on Earth do you keep thieves from getting a hold of these bottles?” Dermutio questioned curiously. I reached into my cloak and pulled out a sturdy lock.

“With this my dear Dermutio,” I answered positioning the lock in the glow of the flames, he nodded with his mouth taking form of an “O”.

“Lock the doors with this sturdy lock and nothing enters,” he replied.

“Do not forget my friend that nothing can exit as well. I should indeed thank the smith for aiding me this very day.”

I waved them forward, toward the end of the cellar where there was a small opening embedded in the ground, the gate-like opening purposely left open.

“Take this flambeaux and descend, indeed what you see will be to your liking,” I beckoned Loyal. She of course quickly grabbed onto the the flambeaux and entered the small room below, her trust encouraging me to move forward with this. As for Dermutio who lingered like the cunning fool he was  at the top, I gripped tightly onto the lock in my hand and quickly struck him on his temple, causing him to tumble into the opening, and hitting the ground with an animal-like groan. Loyal was horrified and released and awful fear stricken screech, realizing too late that there were no such bottles of wine in that room below.

I shut the gate and clamped it shut with the lock. There were two clicks, and I watched as with perfect timing the water from the stream began to pour in from a well carved whole in the wall, with pressure from the fast flowing stream above. Loyal ran past her unconscious love, and moved toward the opening of the small room.

“Vintner what is the meaning of this?” she questioned me with a satisfying look of terror.

“Why it is your gift dear Loyal,” I answered her with a smile, as the water now reached her well above her knees, and I noticed yet again that she did not tend to her dear beloved, who was now drowning in the deep depths of the murky water below.

“Gift?” she asked grasping the bars.

“Gift,” I confirmed. “This is my gift to you in honor of your love for this man,”

She shook her head, “I will be with you, I would very much like to be with you. I feel nothing of the sort for him,” she replied. This aroused something dark and horrible inside of me. How dare she play me for a fool? How dare she not accept this glorious gift I am presenting to her?

As now the water reached her bosoms, at last I answered, “Enough!” I reached in toward her, but she recoiled. “Oh my dear Loyal, if only you had been to me what thy name suggest,” it flowed now at her beautiful neck, “then and only then would we be happy…”

“Please!” She stared at me terrified, thrashing and wildly shaking the bars that would not loosen, as now the water began to engulf her face, and I stood quickly making my way to leave this cellar, as I could hear the water flowing behind me.

“But now, dear Loyal, may you both drown in each others eternal love.”

Bio: I got my inspiration to write this from the short story by Edgar Allan Poe called “The Cask of Amontillado” that I read in my ENC 1102 class this year. I feel like this was written to the best of my efforts, and I hope that I not only get this published in the magazine, but also that whoever reads this enjoys it. Also the format or the story should be kept the way it is, because some words italicized in the story has meaning.