At the demon’s ball. Gothic. Natalie Yacobson

t the demon’s ball

      Gothic

      Natalie Yacobson

      Translator Наталья Николаевна Лилиенталь

      © Natalie Yacobson, 2020

      © Наталья Николаевна Лилиенталь, translation, 2020

      ISBN 978-5-0051-3438-7

      Created with Ridero smart publishing system

      SHADOWS BALL

      Devilish dreams

      In them you are everywhere

      Sunny rose

      In this eerie darkness.

      Eternal spell

      Here above the edge of darkness

      You are my curse,

      Angel of beauty.

      Everything around is here forever

      Darkness and this blood

      You alone are mortal

      but only you are my love.

      The bright light of lightning for a moment illuminated the castle on the hill. The building was beautiful, majestic, full of dark magic and secrets. How much terrible was in it, how many nightmares that settled there, turned its fabulous beauty into the embodiment of evil.

      Running down a narrow stone staircase, Emily once again found herself in a huge hall, plunged into deep darkness. Only the light of lightning and the flickering of the candle threw reflections of a mysterious light on her beautiful face. It seemed that the very night, patronizing this world of nightmares, was laughing at her violent fear and eerie fright. She quickly looked around. There was only anxiety in her heart. The look, darting from side to side in a fit of fear, did not notice anything. But the danger was somewhere nearby. Every rustle made her flinch, like a doe, feeling the pursuit of those who hunt for her life. A sound sounded behind her, and she turned around, alarmed, but behind there was nothing but one ominous darkness and a frantic tremor of her own heart, transmitted to her, making the fluffy skirts of her white ball gown and long curly strands of her blonde hair that stood out from her delicate hairstyle.

      She was afraid that they would return again, appear right out of this void, like ghosts, to destroy her once and for all. She thought she deserved their revenge. After all, he gave her this black gift, and she put him to death for the second time. Like instant flashes of lightning, pictures from the recent past flashed in her memory. Now they seemed to her just a dream. However, they were reality itself, as were the glare of flashing lightning. They disappeared like lightning, leaving nothing behind but an oppressive silence, preparing a new burst of dark light. The picture of how she enters the hall, sparkling with her beauty in the bright light of candles and the celebration of the ball, will never disappear from her memory. The crowd parted before her, he came up to her, and she danced with him. She is frightened by his fiery eyes, and then she desperately tries to escape from the circle of the dead or the fiends of hell themselves. It seems impossible for her to escape her own death. Until now, there was a roll of horror itself in her ears, her insane cry of pain and fear. She broke free of their crowd and ran away, but horror flashed in her blue eyes as he blocked her exit from the hall. Then, in a fit of fear, she grabbed that sparkling dagger and plunged it into his heart. Until now, his scarlet blood glowed with pain in her eyes.

      Suddenly, in the wild whisper of a thunderstorm in the very silence sounded:

      – Emily, Emily, Emily!

      Emily looked around anxiously, tears now glistening in her frightened eyes, but why, could she admit it to herself.

      Suddenly a dark figure appeared behind her, and clawed paws touched her bare shoulders. She turned around, no one again. Maybe the danger was left behind, or maybe it was already sneaking up on her.

      Suddenly, all the candles around them burst into bright fire, filling the huge hall with warm light.

      “Emily,” came from behind her, and she turned around. Her fear instantly passed when she saw such a familiar and beautiful face of a young man standing in front of her.

      “I can’t bear it any longer,” she said, and her frightened voice echoed with a sonorous echo in the silence of the huge hall, “I don’t want to live in this gloomy fairy tale anymore.

      “You don’t want to see the truth, Emily,” he tried to argue.

      – No, not me, you don’t see it, – burst out from the beauty, – yes, you saved my life, but you took me to hell on earth. You snatched me out of the hands of my dreams, like a monster from a fairy tale, you threw me into a world of secrets, and now you doubt whether you acted wisely or just in you, at last, pity woke up. But creatures like you are incapable of experiencing either love or pity.

      – You’re wrong, Emily, – he objected, – I tried to overcome the darkness, I wanted to give you the happiness that this world denied you.

      “No, I will no longer stay here in this blue hell,” she said more than emphatically this time. – I want to save my life, my soul. Today I am leaving with or without you.

      Her accusing voice rang out loudly in the dead silence. He, unwillingly, turned away from her. His eyes, filled with blood and fire, became insidious and sinister, a noble and beautiful face was distorted by a grimace. Pain pierced his body, and the all-conquering thirst for blood took possession of him, but the pain of his heart, where the love for the bright angel lived, was even stronger.

      – What’s the matter? – burst out from Emily.

      Even her voice, so beautiful and so beloved by him, could not stop his torment, but he could defeat the power of darkness that possessed his mind.

      She looked at him, but what was happening to him. His long brown hair fell in a silky veil over his shoulders, he was as pale as death itself, and even his beauty could not hide the anguish that distorted his face. He cried out, clutching his hand.

      “I’m sorry, Emily,” he whispered. – I am no longer eternal.

      He raised his dagger and thrust it into himself. His body fell to the marble floor, but she involuntarily ran up to him, what was in her soul turned out to be stronger than fear, love remained invincible, and she bowed before him, he was still alive.

      “I’m sorry, Emily,” he repeated.

      “No,” she dropped to her knees next to him, and her blue eyes were full of tears.

      “Don’t die,” she whispered, running her hand through his silk-soft hair and looking with a painful gaze at his young and handsome face, which already had the imprint of death.

      He was dying, but his trembling hand passed over her beautiful face.

      “Don’t cry, Emily,” he whispered, “my death is not worth your tears, take this and run. Rather, run away from here, you can leave, just don’t look them in the eyes, the power of death is hidden in them.

      He put a golden cross in her trembling hand, the gold shone in the light of the witch’s night.

      “I release you from our curse, my love, Emily,” he said, and her name echoed with some magic sound in the magical silence at the moment of his death. She involuntarily cried, but it was already useless, it was pointless to hug the cold corpse to her, and that beautiful face that she once loved so much, she had to save her life, although his death itself called her with him.

      She ran out of the bright room, where once the joy of the ball shone, but now only peace and silence reigned. In the darkness of eternal darkness and evil, her bright beauty shone, the beauty of a beautiful angel. Suddenly she froze in place. In the gap of the stone stairs, he stood, the one who had already been dead twice and had risen in his devilish beauty. She looked into his fiery eyes. The chain of gold cross slipped out of her hand and hit the stone floor, and she, unwillingly, approached him, but his cold gaze did not express anything except the pain hidden in him.

      “Forgive