On The Church Steps
On The Church Steps  bag stories
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malarkey @B_malarkey_s {IG} πŸ‘ΎπŸ’ŽπŸ’ΏπŸŒˆ
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One should be careful when taking a bag from a formidable stranger.

Note: I've been reading lots of gothic lit, can you tell? ;)

On The Church Steps

My friend- will you please listen to my tale? I don't mean to disturb you I truly don't- but I fear I will be driven to halfway to madness if I don't get this off my conscience... you may choose not to believe me. I wouldn't blame you.

The eve this happened- this awful story... it was lonely, baleful, but clear as anything.

The sun had just set over top of the wooden rooftops of the cramped streets of that fair town- there was just a little bit of orange over the horizon. I couldn't forget it. How it lit up those four opulent spires of the church.

It was the grandest building in the town- towered well above the rest when it still stood- gorgeous thing it was. I know it well- I went every Sunday when I was a boy.

I just had turned to cross the street- I was coming home from my job at the bank, see- when I noticed a woman walking up the steps, holding this large white sack. Looking back- I should've guessed it was trouble- with that huge black cloak obscuring her.

But truly it was what she was holding- that bag. I had assumed it was some sort of donation.

I paid no attention- Lord how I wish I had kept it that way- she knocked but four times. Slow and heavy... dragging on each one. I wasn't looking then, so I didn't see her hand.

At those knocks I had stopped to observe, no one- not even the kindly archdeacon came to the door, which was rather odd for him. "Alright, Miss?" I asked.

She stood at full attention. Her hand falling to her side.

Her head turned.

It is too horrid to recall! Lord- the blue skin- those thousand eyes- those strings of red hair... those teeth from her lower jaw, I could feel them wrapping around my very neck! That sinister purple glow from the marks like those Norse tattoos running down her cheek! A villain!

This.. thing... this woman, walked toward me- each one of her eyes darting in a million directions; I had no emotions... no thoughts... blood left my face and surges of fear lept to my arms and legs.

Her arm extended- holding out the ivory sack with a golden emblem to me. Her claws... they touched my hand, my friend..

Her mouth opened like a rusty hinge, nails scraped on a chalk-board as she croaked: "Deliver this to the Archdeacon. For it is the greatest tithe of them all."

I had nothing to do but take it.... I can still feel Its sizeable weight... and like that the... the thing, the villain vanished! She left to I know not where... Lord as my witness she was truly there, my friend.

Upon seeing what was inside, You must believe me... My friend... I saw the broken halo... the singed wings... the poor things cries... the splotches of purple and green skin starting to form on it...

Its cries seared my soul brighter than the fires it must've landed in as it hit the stone step. I left it for the Archdeacon to find.

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