The Story Blog for the Mead Legends LARP (www.meadsa.co.za)

Event 15 – Cold Memories

Almira sat alone on  the porch of her ramshackle hovel on the edges  of Domicile Veneficii. In the distance she watched  the glimmering red sun slide slowly to rest across the distant desert sands.  She was busy dozing off thinking of her younger days, filled with fond memories of warm nights in tavern halls and even warmer nights in the rooms upstairs.

For a moment she lost himself, deep in nostalgic thought, when she was jerked back to reality by the creeping chill of the evening air. Not buffered by youth’s vigor, the cold got to her sooner these days. ”Time to turn in” she mused to herself, as she sipped the last lukewarm dregs of her tea from the old clay mug. She rose slowly from her seat, grasping her battered cane for support. She placed her mug delicately upon its place and made her way across the tiny room to her bed. She placed her cane upon its hook and pulled her blankets across her elderly frame. She rolled to her side getting comfortable and was about to drift off to sleep when a cold breeze started to creep along her back.

”Darn window” she muttered as she flung off the blanket, she crossed her room to a window, scarcely more than a pane of glass sandwiched in  a wooden frame. Its rusty hinges complained vigorously as she drew it shut struggling to secure an ancient and rickety latch. She was heading back to bed when the cold once again blew up around her; annoyed, she turned around grumbling about the latch and strange weather.

Her mutterings stopped suddenly as she stared into the face of an old friend, only this one was gaunt and near translucent, wreathed in a blueish mist. The figure reached out to touch her, but she was already dead, her face frozen between surprise and recognition; frost already slowly creeping along the peripheries of her features.

The ghastly creature stared long at her body through unseeing eyes, opening its mouth as if  to say something but no sound did it utter.  Its hands clutching at its face it turned with speed, passing straight through Almira’s bed and wall, its horrific screeching echoing into the empty night.

– Written by Duane Havenga –

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