She knew she was dreaming. She knew other things too: her name is Hope and she had come to this strange schools with high hopes, now the place had lost all its attraction, her mission of visiting all the statues, nook and crannies of the place only filled her with dread; She had an old friend, a janitor, who died under what possibly is the mysterious situation to ever happen in SMH (and that is saying something); Angel, now a stray dog had followed her into the hostel the weird night before; there were rumours that school might shut down on account of suspected animal attack.
She was lucid, she was herself, she should be on her bed at the moment. She knew that much.
In the dream, however, she was walking in a dark hall, a dog prowled behind her, a large shaggy beast, it wasn’t Angel, it was pitch-black bulldog. Her height, however, the feel within the body, long shadow on the cold floor... The body was different, a man’s. Santiago’s infamous walking stick pounded proudly on the rocky floor as light from a flame torch licked off the rocky wall of what looked like an ancient hallway. The walls were made with old cracked reliefs, in which intricate waves form the background indented by faces and figurines. The faces glowed dull yellow, brightening as the man approached. Over his were gems lining the ceiling glowing ahead like golden stars. There was something regal about the place, the way it acknowledged his presence. Mist rolled towards him like foamy waves of the sea from the wider cavern ahead, receding and approaching in an intricate wispy dance to the tinkling sound of water.
At the end of the long tunnel, Santiago entered the vast misty carven. He could tell by the reverent architecture, the many chambers opened in rows in each tiers as they wall rose to a dizzying height where the light of the moon flitted through as if from a skylight, and the bones that gleamed faintly in the ignited light from within the smaller chambers. It was all amazing, everything.
The man laughed as the first shadow came to view, displacing mists with every step, then came more, ancient souls all trapped by the mystic land, all waiting for him, awaiting freedom. “meus escravos leais,” said the man as he continued on, flanked on both side by inky dark bodies, taking familiar shapes. From his lips which weirdly were Hope’s was the fetor of alcohol, there was a stagger to the gait too, his vision swayed. He squinted his eyes and felt immense joy at the sight of the woman between the slabs. A very familiar figure, standing out there in the same pose, grace and look of the marble angel by the lake, but for the wings. She stood between two slabs, each on a spiral in which water flowed only to meet between them as the etched loops linked like infinity sign in the middle. She turned her face to see him, soft wind blew her hair. It was Santiago’s dead wife come to life. Her pale face resolved in a brilliant smile, she ran towards Santiago still clutching her bouquet, and hugged him. The hollowed out voice, called his name and kissed his cheek. “meu amor, senti sua falta.” Santiago croaked as he kissed her back. Death couldn’t keep them apart. Not anymore.
The scene resolved into a semblance of her room, then as if undecided resolved into the dark charnel again, two pair of eyes glowed between the slabs, those eyes were hers, reflecting from the mirror. Hope saw her face, almost porcelain, with dull yellow flames for eyes. Something touched her shoulder and pulled her through empty dark space with flash speed. “set them free!” her dead mother whispered in a coarse parched voice. Hope wanted to reach for her. To see her, touch her like Santiago who found a way to keep his dead wife alive.
*******
She hit her bed, eyes popped wide open to see Kenny Badmus or an imitation of him standing at the doorway that night. It took a moment for her to catch her breath, and throw her coverlet aside. She knew what was about to happen, and she had expected it. Had she not slept tonight with her school clothes on? Has she not paced the halls retracing the first night the shadow led her to the apparition of the hanged man in Louise’s hall? She was expecting it, an opportunity to get answers. She didn’t want to do it, but she had to. Two lives were depending on whatever she could do.
YOU ARE READING
SANTA MARIA HIGH (COMPLETED)
Paranormal...are you afraid of the dark? When Hope Mark lost her foster mother to cancer and had to move to a new school, she never thought much of SANTA MARIA HIGH. Other than the fact that the fact that the school was in the most beautiful Manor, with tall...
