The wind blew mercilessly upon the thin frame of Elvira Husseynov. The cold air poked her like a hundred blunt needles where her stola hung loosely over her breasts. Nevertheless, her nimble feet wiggled in delight as they skipped over the autumn leaves. The deserted mansion that drew her eyes was nearly camouflaged by the orange and brown colours of the harvest season.
Elvira turned around the corner to find the wall that hid what used to be the small study of the late viscount. Nobody but her grandfather, Léon, had been permitted there since the accidental death. Even then, he was only allowed there for collecting information for the viscount's memorabilia. However, that had never stopped Elvira from coming in.
She pulled out a nail file from her purse and proceeded to pick lock the door that showed her to a corridor with statuettes and drawings of gods and goddesses upon the side walls. The apprehensive looks the faces gave her made her queasy. The blazing eyes were waiting.
Elvira turned and saw the entrance to the study, but then she balked. Esoteric chanting and mantras could be heard from behind the door. It reminded her of the way oracles raved out prophecies after breathing in toxic gas. It was an impetuous sound; the song of a man going through purgatory.
Elvira peeped through the square window on the door. Her heart stopped beating, and disgust, hostility, and agony surged through her bloodstream in the tragic finale of her morale and discipline. The anguish was unbearable and her body shook from head to toe. Léon, her caretaker, the man who she had trusted all her life had betrayed her and their religious faith. Elvira was told her whole life that consummating before marriage was a sin. It was a terrible lie. Léon's naked body was entangled with a maid no older than 16 years old. They heaved together in sync and he grabbed her body roughly and the girl cried out in ecstasy.
She didn't know how she moved, but Elvira suddenly found her herself inside the study with a familiar bicycle spoke in her hand.
"Elvira!, Léon yelped in surprise. He squinted in her direction through the dim lamp light. A dew of sweat dripped down from his forehead. The maid grabbed a handful of clothes and skittered out of the study. Meanwhile, Léon stuttered out an explanation and fumbled around for his glasses. Elvira did not hear him.
Her clammy hand clutched to the bicycle spoke tightly as she remembered the time when she was alone with the spoke in the same room just a few months ago. Stolen kisses and hushed affections had branded her for life. She had missed her menstruation for a week when the melancholia began to sink in. Death was not the greatest loss in her life. Her greatest loss was of what died inside of her as she lived. In the English language there are orphans and there are widows. There is no word for a mother that is forced to abort her child with sharp objects. In oblivion to the heartache a woman could feel, Ambrose had kissed her forehead and told her that nobody would ever find out. As if that was the worst thing that could happen.
It was only after she'd lost everything that she realized she was free to do anything. Elvira stole deeper into the room and plunged the spoke into Léon's all-too available heart. "SINNER", her mind screamed. How perfect it was that the same device used to kill her baby was being used to kill the depraved man behind the mask of superfluous wise words! A faint gargling sound escaped Léon's lips as she plunged again, over and over.
Elvira soon began to take morbid delight in the activity. She loved the way his blood gushed out and spilled over his chest. She knew what she was doing was wrong, but she enjoyed being libertine and capable of killing away the evil and affliction in her life. It was if she had fantasized about the way his eyes bulged out of its sockets for centuries.
Elvira dropped the spoke and wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. She looked down to find shameful blotches of carmine blood on her stola. To hide the evidence, she threw on Léon's black pallium that lay on the floor. She then walked out of the study to find a place to wash up.
Elvira entered the corridor of statuettes on her way out and then stopped in surprise. The statuettes and religious carvings were moving. They initially seemed to be arguing among themselves and the goddesses' faces looked terribly distraught. The gods looked absolutely furious! Suddenly, they all stopped short, and turned to glare menacingly at her. Elvira was on the ground before she could comprehend what had happened. All she could see were bared teeth and raised weapons. Multiple hands were reaching towards her. They were ready to strangle her... and black hypnotic eyes carried her away to the hands of Hades. Elvira could almost hear a woman's cry of anguish, similar to the one she let out when she realized that she would have to abort. Almost, but she couldn't be sure...a wave of ethereal hands was smothering her away to a horrible, horrible, dream like state...
Her eyes opened wide and Elvira could see that she was lying on a bed at the local hospice. Her pallium had been removed and the vivid stain of blood could be seen from heavens away. It stood out like an elephant in a room. Unfortunately for her, the stains did not go unaddressed.
"Elvira", Basil said tenuously. Her name came out so pained from the healer's mouth that Elvira's heart sank. Basil had thought so highly of her before! And now, the once glowing kind eyes were gone. A lump formed in Elvira's throat. Basil had not looked into her eyes. She had the eyes of sinner. Elvira was sure that he knew about everything that had happened. He also knew about her abortion now from examining her body! It wouldn't be long until the whole town knew and she would be punished.
Was Elvira's crime really worse than Léon's? Of course not! Elvira wanted to cry out and wring out their necks until they believed her. Her trust was broken! Her heart had been ripped out of her chest and kicked around like a deflated football! She was the victim! But Elvira bit her lip and said nothing.
Basil said nothing for a long time. The silence seemed to stretch out for hours. Finally, Basil just walked away without saying anything else.
At dusk, Elvira began to walk down the deserted route to Ambrose's house. The wind blew across the unpaved ground and formed a cloud of sand and debris in the air. Silhouettes of tall barren branches swayed like the grasping fingers of unsettled corpses. When she arrived, she told him everything that had happened. He did not look shocked or upset with her. Instead, he looked to the ground and crossed his arms. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep thought.
"We leave tonight", Ambrose said simply.
On cue, Elvira began packing as many necessities as possible, but only packed his belongings in fear of her possessions making her traceable. Her mind was in a frenzy as she packed. Every thought rushed too quickly in her mind for her to remember. She was paranoid and uneasy. Who knew when her trial would be? When more evidence showed up for both her adultery and her homicide, she would be burned at the stake at once! Or worse, she would be skinned alive in public! The thought troubled her more than seemed possible.
The autumn leaves crunched once again under Elvira's bare feet but, this time she was very bitter. Every movement in the forest startled her as if someone was watching them. She found herself looking behind her shoulders in fear. The moon shone like back-lit alabaster high above their heads. It cast an unhealthy white shade upon Ambrose's already pale face. She wished Ambrose would say something. The silence seemed eerie and unnatural. He had always been a talker.
They carried on for what felt like hours to a destination that Ambrose kept secret. The silence bothered Elvira so much that she could hear the anguished cry of a woman again. Oh, why did she recall such things! Nothing would be better than to shove these memories aside and start afresh!
Ambrose decided that they should camp out for the rest of the late night. Elvira dropped her luggage beneath some undergrowth, and decided to take the first watch while he slept. An hour later, Elvira saw a silhouette of a man walking towards her. She held her breath and sat still in fear. Then, she saw who it was.
"Oh, Ambrose, it's you", Elvira said. She exhaled sharply but did not relax.
"Ambrose?" she asked hesitantly. He was naked, but that wasn't the most abhorrent part. His erogenous zone was replaced by the bicycle spoke! She also saw that his eyes were ablaze like the angry statuettes in the deserted mansion. It was as if he was possessed by angry gods! His black hypnotic eyes frightened her so much that she had to turn away.
Suddenly, the black pallium was flung over Elvira's head. Elvira screamed and cried for help, but to no avail. She was completely blindfolded and her voice was muffled. Abruptly, Elvira could hear the same esoteric chanting that she heard outside of the study just days before. Now, however, the chanting had a sinister and foreboding tone within it.
Then, a pair of brusque hands ripped away her skirt, leaving her legs exposed to the frosty air. Elvira began to thrash around violently but Ambrose wouldn't budge. The chanting became louder and louder until a sharp stab impaled Elvira starting from her genitals. It was so quick and swift that Elvira didn't even have the chance to shriek! The spoke penetrated through human flesh like a hot knife through butter. Her corpse just melted into a pile of blood that camouflaged with the vivid crimson stained ground where the bicycle spoke had dismissed sinners like her for centuries.
The End
Afterword by Prama
Léon wasn't merely having intercourse in the study of the mansion. He was performing a sexual ritual or called "Hieros Gamos". This is a ceremony involving humans enacting the conception of gods through their parents' holy marriage. This was an actual practice in Ancient Greece since the creation of Zeus. Today, many religions across the world hold rituals and ceremonies similar to this.
Once Elvira killed Léon, the gods became infuriated with her for interrupting the ritual and killing their devotee. They took their revenge on her through the body of Ambrose, the quarry worker that Elvira had been having an affaire with. I deliberately named him Ambrose because it means 'servant of god' in Hebrew. The name hints his use in the short story.
The reason that Elvira killed Léon is because she had been forbidden to have affaires due to the custom of the people living in 19th century Greece. Elvira became infuriated when she saw that Léon betrayed their faith. Her anger peaked so high because as punishment for becoming pregnant before marriage, she unwillingly had to abort her child.