Gothic Short Stories

The Priestess: Vows Unheard But Never Forgotten

*Inspiration from "Merry Madness" By Dead Sound

In the mist of the night, the moonlight glimmers down upon a structure within the forest of a foreign land. A harsh and freezing winter was coming to shroud the forest and freeze over the mainland, yet the Forest remained untouched by the snow but frosted over along the trees and grass around. This structure, although dimly lit was surrounded by large trees, too tall to see the tops, the structure itself was of black brick and blue stained glass windows. Shadowed and hidden within a deep and dark grotto, forgotten by time, but maintained by its inhabitants. The structure and its people were protected by the blessing placed from its original inhabitant, only known as the Priestess, motherly to all whom sought her guidance, but had the ability to hide her civilization from those who sought to destroy it as it was not of the same common laws of the normal world, freed of most pain and suffering, with a trade off for something much more sinister.

Gathered around the moonlight that beamed from the heavens, followers chanted prayers to the Priestess in the hopes that she would bless her true followers with eternal life as she had done to her children of the night so many years ago. Among these beings was a man who was only known as the Prophet to the people but as Dawson when in private. He was not the first to become a Priest so suddenly, as his mother before him had done so, as he was the only descendant of the 'late' Priestess figure, he would take her place until he had gotten a female descendant who would promptly replace him. Dawson was not scared of being replaced, as his grandfather had been by his mother, so young, but so willing. Dawson's grandfather had raised him up until the day where Dawson's mother took his role as the Protector Priestess of the tribe. He taught Dawson what his purpose of existence was, to be a strong hunter for the tribe or to help the tribe repopulate.

As the chanting began to die down, and the sun began to peek through the trees, all of the followers retreated into their homes, all but one, Dawson. Dawson always had a liking for the sun, for the warmth it gave off and for how brightly it lit up his home. He understood the others for going home as the tribe has been nocturnal since its founding, but as the New Priest or Priestess must guard the town during the day, as there is more danger that lurks in the day than in the dead of night. Dangers that were heard loud and clear in the mist of day but silent and dead in the night, among those being the bout of other men. Men who could not allow their own monsters to live among them as one unified form of life. They were the reason for The Priestess and her tribe's retreat into the Wendigo woods, the most dangerous part of the land. It is said that men who ventured from the town into these woods, would never return as the same being. Dawson never really believed in all the stories of men went missing if they ventured too far from civilization, he was more interested in the stories of his ancestor, The Priestess.

She was his favorite story to tell to his people, and the person he hoped to become when he had come of age. The Priestess was a woman who brought peace and prosperity to the lands of the men, women and monsters all alike. The Priestess had wrote about the stories of how man and their monsters had lived in prosperity together with their merry madness for thousands of years, but as time grew on, so did the tensions between the creatures. Man had begun to purge themselves of their monsters and differences, as this was going on the Priestess with pain in her heart turned to her darkness to protect her people and evacuated those that man had deemed as different into her forest. The Priestess had asked man what they were to do if their monsters had fled and had been rid from their lives. She received no response, but she watched as man had lost their sense of merry madness and become dull, and square. There was no laughter, there was no sorrow, there was only tolerance, and silence.