This Darkness Mine (8 page)
The reason you cannot see his face is because he is wearing a mask.
It has two politely curving horns and you can see where the red paint has thinned out over the years, newspaper print showing through here and there. You can also see the smile, the way the papier-mache lips curve, ever so slightly and ever so politely. He’s a gentleman at a soiree, sharing a sly, underhanded joke with you. He sits where he sits, by the aisle, in the pews, not saying a word, simply waiting. The eyes of the face under the mask are old, wise and bright. He checks his watch, a second-hand purchase telling him a time that is not the time. Whoever he is waiting for, this man, they are late, very late. He tugs at his cuffs with those delicately manicured fingertips and a breath of exasperation escapes him once more. The eyes in the mask catch the light of a memorial candle. Those eyes, those old bright eyes.
You had better not keep him waiting long.
Not this Fallen Angel.
******
This place is a quiet place. An empty place. Empty of people but not of life. Perhaps, you will pass through it one night, walking your dog or returning home, drunk. Maybe, arm in arm with a woman. Beautiful and young, perhaps.
If you do, spare me a glance.
I’m always here.
In that gutted hollow excuse for structure, last on the left, around which torn yellow tongues of danger tape snap, whisper and lie. Soot stains scurry across the foundations when the wind blows hard. You’ll see a light inside, dim and low, and a figure flickering as if on fire. He sits at his desk, never moving from it, he is working hard through the night.
Every night.
Ever diligent to that purpose which he serves.
This darkness mine.
“These fragments I have shored against my ruins.”
T.S. Eliot
Acknowledgements
I hope you have enjoyed this novella and will be interested in trying some more of my titles. If you did enjoy, I would greatly appreciate it if you left a review. A writer is nothing without readers like yourself and their support.
I would like to thank the following for their help and support:
Celeste Ramos Bjork-Larsen, for taking on this strange and peculiar piece of work and helping me to make it fit for public consumption.
Athanasios Galanis, for producing a moody and atmospheric piece of cover art that perfectly reflects the moods that inspired this novella.
I would also like to thank Jim McLeod and Chris Hall for their ongoing support and friendship. These guys set the standard for the Horror genre as reviewers and enthusiasts.
My thanks to Indie Writers Unite and the Booze & Books groups on Facebook for friendship, laughs and innuendos shared with all members thereof.
My friends are my family and this book could not have been done without them as ever; Ruth Latchford, Jez Joubinaux, Evie Joubinaux, Kris Dyer, Jason Brawn, Dolores Harrington, Mark & Tori Waddington, Sandra Norval, Adrian Chamberlin, Dean M. Drinkel, Misty Jo Hughes & Ann Giardina Magee.
About the Author
G.R. Yeates is the critically-acclaimed author of the Vetala Cycle books. He has been accepted and published in small press anthologies including Phobophobia from Dark Continents Publishing and Horror for Good from Cutting Block Press. He was born in Rochford, Essex and went on to study English Literature and Media at university. He has lived in China where he taught English as a foreign language and he now lives in North London where he writes every day and sleeps very little. He considers his influences to include H.P. Lovecraft, Thomas Ligotti, Ramsey Campbell, James Herbert, Guy N. Smith & Shaun Hutson.
G.R. Yeates
can be contacted at:
[email protected]
Other titles available by
G.R. Yeates
:
The Vetala Cycle - A Collected Edition
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