Invasio Domus

The corrugated foil, which shrouds amorphously the inevitable sensations of my futurity, has withheld many things from my discrimination and I find only woe, in what I seek to borrow. I can barely saturate my lips, to expose the lore of my present disquiet, for in the insufferable burden of the forlorn heart, there is that staple providence of personal fortitude, which becomes at length, a vigorous cynicism of intercourse. Only until this very minute have I given a portion of my rumination to any being, and I feel it is unfortunately too late to conceal the ordained professions, which must ensue my discourse. The tale of my sorrow, begins on a pleasant albeit wistful night, when I had forsaken my husband, to his lounge in the parlor and found sufficient serenity in the comforts of my chamber. It was my unusual privilege to be in the ambivalence of converse and utter silence, but on this night, all the susurruses and strums of the globe, made me uneasy. I would perhaps read a book, or indulge in the idealism of nostalgia as I perused old photographs. In the final result of the audition, I gathered photographs of my husband and perused the iridescent adventures of each familiar discovery. The cold humid textures of London, in the compliments of the South African Savanna; the imagination is quite the delightful thing! As I continued to pursue my fancy, I heard my husband, scream, with an unbridled devotion of intensity. It was only a scream to be expected in the terrors of the moribund, something beyond the agitation of the nerves, something from the unfringed depths of the soul. I ran down the staircase, but as soon as I had some advantage of sight, unto the parlor, I found two men, in the leisures of converse, and upon the floorboards in their proximity was my husband, incumbent and eerily still. I covered my mouth, for I feared that the terror which engorged my senses, would soon, throb my core and I would surely shriek. Shivering and weeping, I receded gently to a more slender circumstance of my vision, and inspected the men. There was one man, who was possibly six foot at height, dressed unusually motley, with a black shroud upon his face, something which was mutually adopted, for the venture. The other man was considerable lower in altitude, with a more passive composure, a uniform culture of fashion, and alas! A dagger to his possession, dripping with fresh crimson blood. Here I wept with a soft moan, which disturbed the converse of the men. It was still, and then I heard the voice of one of the men speak,

"Perhaps he was not alone tonight" and then I heard their footfalls assigned to my residence. I continued to recede, with a rushing saunter until reaching my chamber, I confined myself within a wardrobe. Now I could hear their approach, and again I covered my mouth, while I glanced into a dimunitive aperture in the timber of what felt like my casket. I could here my heart pulsate, and with each violent percussion, I felt my sentience, became more lucid, and my horrors more alive! I watched as the taller counterpart spoke,

"There must be someone here, I shall check the wardrobe, that garment sticking out at the bottom is quite suspicious" I bit my lip, until a faint taste of blood, transiently smeared my pallet and now, my fears made me courageous, for before he could open the wardrobe, I opened it myself! And with a hysteric chuckle, I rushed out, but could not escape the embrace of his friend.

"This loony thinks she is clever hey!" Said the short man, who I now found to be of steady build. I remember, I was numb and had lost the very surge of my existence from my limbs. Now the man, pulled my hairs as if to expose my sculp, but I only moaned, for the thought of death, had darkened the expression of my prejudice.

"Bind her in rope, make sure she doesn't move" said the tall man, with a guttural cadence, of sinister reverberation. Many hideous suspicions raced my mind, when my capturer revealed that signature knife, and after a tacit adjuration, abandoned me with a saunter across the room, cutting pieces of fabric and binding me with acute dexterity. I surrendered, and could only think of my poor husband, and the unending fornications of my macabre vision. I was carried down to the parlour, by the tall man, with my hands and feet bound, and a cloth stuffed into my mouth. Their discussions endured, in the practice, and for my final torture method, I was laid next to my husband, who had passed. His glassy eyes were wide and adamant in their perspective, and his visage was rigid with a pallid coldness. Through the occlusion of the moist cloth, I screamed, in the rejuvenated intensity of emotional agony, and its duration now irked the two men, so that at intrusive intervals I could hear the words,

"Silence you loony, silence or you will be next" and squatting upon me came the short man, exposing the crimson knife to my eyes. It was in vain, for in this moment, I could not be oppressed by the accomodations of law, nor could I adequately grasp the fabric of my conscious.

"Ferdinand, we have what we need, let us leave now!" Said the tall man, reaching for a full sack, which denoted the purport of their visit. They ran off, with intense legerity as I wriggled to my husband's corpse, and rested my head upon it, screaming until a sudden ache arrested me. I averted my head to its anatomical provenance, and indeed I had been lancinated in the rib and slowly I bled. Darkness slowly fell upon me, like the lethargic tones of the nocturne and my lucidity withered. I awoke to the sound of a woman, who I fancied to be the angel who receives the dead in their parting, until the words became clear,

"Can you hear me, you will be well I promise you".