Til Dusk Do Us Part

The elegant and noble gaze of Caul Ebb remained transfixed on the smatter of blood and gore that coated his hands. A corpse lay at his feet drooling bile onto his well polished shoes. The face was unrecognizable and barely attached to the shredded remnants of the body. The grey flesh hung limp and bloodless, fluttering like flags in the wind. Caul watched as liquid trailed down his fingers and dropped like rain watering the corpse beneath him. The night’s wind gifted him the putrid pungency of death in a vile breath of a breeze. At the horrific sight of such destructive desecration, Caul sighed.

“Not another one,” He muttered. His own ears twitched in repulsion by the unnatural smoothness of his voice. The effortless enthrallment of his speech nearly bewitched his own soul. He bit his tongue to keep from speaking again, thus the night grew silent and unnerving. The moon peaked around the dark clouds that veiled the stars of heaven, and the faint light shone down on Caul like a beacon highlighting him and his depravity. The moonlight shone to Caul’s eyes like sunlight would to mortals. He longed to creep away from the ray of reflected light. All of his essence wanted to lurk in the darkness and remain shrouded in shadow. Caul reigned in his impulses and remained in the light. 

He leaned down and picked up the body with ease and grace. He held it out far from him, so that its leaking vitals would not further stain his apparel. Instead it would only leave a crimson trail to tell the tale. After countless steps taken at a pleasant pace far quicker than any natural creature could walk, Caul laid the body upon the fields behind his home and searched for a shovel. Scatters of stones lined the fields in ranks upon ranks stretching to the horizon. Caul returned to the body and began to dig. The hole was dug with swiftness yet Caul bore ever the poise of nobility. Yet as he crawled from the hole to bury the body, he sighed again. He had forgotten a casket.

Caul brushed the dirt from his hands, and strode across the field towards his cabin. After a swift disappearance, Caul returned with a hatchet in his hands. With a brief glance at the field, he turned towards the border of his land and walked towards the forest. Picking a tree with a fairly large trunk, he wrapped his arms around it and tugged. The roots split the earth and rose into the air as Caul lifted the tree onto his shoulder and began his walk back to his field. The moon rose high into the sky as Caul stripped the tree of root and branch. He piled the excess in a bundle and the mighty trunk he began to carve hollow. He split it into two, working only with one half and that proved to be more than plenty. 

Caul lifted the corpse and placed it gently into the hollow trunk. Its length was perfectly fitting for the corpse; only an inch of excess on either side. He folded the arms of the corpse across its chest and carefully adjusted the head so it seemed a more natural resting. The legs he straightened out, and the garments he shifted to cover the more grievous wounds. He then covered the makeshift casket with a layer of bark like a lid to a casket. Caul then lowered the thing into the earth and covered it again with dirt. 

He returned his tools to their place and set the unused wood beside his cabin in a pile he wished he would not have to use. Caul returned to the field and embedded in the earth a stone and carved on it the month, day, and year. When he had finished he stood up and rested an open hand over his heart. He swept the hand forward and downward towards the resting place of the thing he buried. It was a gesture of the mortals of the land; a gesture of deep respect and love. Someone had loved whomever he had buried, but his heart could not mourn. It had long stopped beating and remained within his chest as a cold and useless thing. 

Caul silently opened the door to his cabin and stepped inside as the moon began to creep westward in the sky. He removed his shoes, scrubbing them clean before giving them a new coat of polish. His clothes were still stained, and thus he removed them and let them soak in a bucket of cold water. He washed himself as well, removing matter from beneath his nails and cleansing crimson from his hair before it clotted more. He stooped over a sink, clutching heavily to the thing. He resisted the idle thoughts lingering in his mind. He would not speak of them, nor would he dare think them if he could. 

He clothed himself again, and hung up the old garments to dry. With not else to do, he put on his shoes like a proper gentleman and sat on the porch. He brought over the trunk he had unearthed earlier and began to carve. He chose an elegant design in his mind and whittled away. Bits fell here and there, and he had to stop to sharpen his knife twice. As he whittled, he heard a whistling far off that slowly began to grow louder. 

A woman of sorts ambled her way towards the cabin from the woods. She stood tall and seemed to drift over the land with hardly a trace to her steps. Her dark hair fluttered as she walked, like shifting shadows in the night. She carried with her a basket and from the scent carried in the air, she had gathered things fresh and delectable to their kind. 

“Evening love,” Caul said, finally setting down his tools. He stood up as the lady stepped up to the house. She smiled at him with charm and elegance, and her eyes sparkled like the light of a dead star piercing through the void. She set down the basket and embraced him. 

“Hello darling,” Her words danced in the night, melodic and enchanting. She lingered there in his embrace for a moment, before retrieving her basket yet again. Her gaze fell on Caul’s shoes. She held one hand out, gesturing him forward. Caul gingerly held out his arm, and the lady grasped it and rolled up his sleeve. 

“I didn’t-” He was cut off by a ‘shush’ as the lady inspected his arm. She gestured for him to present his other arm and he obliged silently. She looked up at him with an inquisitive look.

“There’s blood by your ear,” she said. The charm of her words compelled him to reply.

“It’s not my blood,” Caul said.

“Of course not,” The lady said as she wiped away the spot of red. “It never is.” She looked him in the eyes and he felt the shadow of his soul shudder in her stare. Her gaze softened, in the silent acknowledgement of her knowing of what happened. A smile tugged at her lips, not out of mirth but rather in loving understanding. He asked with his eyes, How did you know?

“Your shoes got a new polish,” She said in a mesmerizing matter of fact way. Before Caul could sigh, the lady pulled him close into an embrace again. Caul tensed in the embrace, refusing himself the acceptance. 

“It changes nothing, darling,” She said.

Caul sighed. “I know, love, I know. I just-”

“Uh uh uh.” She said, cutting off his words with a stern look. “No.”

“I wasn’t always like this,” He said. 

“And you won’t always be,” She replied.

He sighed and leaned into her embrace. He mumbled a response that was further muffled by the embrace. The lady released him from the embrace and held his chin up so he looked her in the eyes. He closed his eyes to avoid her gaze, but she refused to let him go.

“I wish I was better,” he said. He opened his eyes and instead of the stern gaze, the lady again smiled with understanding.

“You can be better,” She said. “And I will love you while you try. Tomorrow is another night, you still have time. Even more, the night’s not over, so don’t waste it.”

Caul nodded slowly.

“Good.” The lady said, letting go. “Now bring the wood inside so we can start dinner.”

Caul turned towards the bundle of branches and roots.

“No no, darling.” She said, pointing at the makeshift casket he had been carving. “Bring it inside.” 

Caul began to protest. “I wasn’t done-”

“You can be better,” She said leaning forward so he heard her all the more clear. “Do not carve a casket for a corpse you have not killed.”

He longed to creep away from her words. Every part of his essence wanted to hide away; to lurk in dark acceptance of his nature and shroud himself in the shadows of self-loathing. He reigned in his impulse and sighed. Caul straightened his posture and nodded. 

“Alight, love.” He said. The lady smiled and went inside. She was followed soon after by Caul dragging with him the unfinished casket and soon to be firewood.