Chapter Nineteen: What Dark Things Love

     Sunday.  The air is biting cold.  Raven has shown us where they sleep . . . in the family crypts, deep below earth . . . we prepare . . . Leon has promised not to drink but a few drops of some of his “medical elixir.”  We may yet persevere.  My will is intact, strong.
     An entry in my new diary, which shall soon be another page in this story.
     And so it went that we explored the crypts, not obviously tenanted, but, a place, Raven said, “that dark things love; the gloom, the grave, and the poisoned grove.”
     Water trickled as from under a crevice, into the crypt . . . it seemed not to slow outwards but to swirl unnaturally, catching us unawares in sponge-like pools that sucked us down . . . and so we stumbled as we waded, carefully.
     “The presence of Evil creates such things – illusions, delusions, and a strange delirium in natural things,” said Raven.
     He led us further. Down, down, into the very watery heart of the grotesque, watery tomb.
     “They sleep in one of these crypts . . . harken . . . see there . . .”
     He pointed to a crypt half-broken.
     “In the struggle to flee the light, they cracked this one.  I am certain one of them sleeps there.  Look.”
     He instructed me to hold the torch as he and Leon moved aside the great, cracked marble.
     Inside, there indeed slept my ‘dear benefactor’ Esteban – adorned in his silks and gold, a diamond of illustrious size on a finger, hands crossed over chest.
     Raven procured his arrows and stabbed the fiend without thought.
     “Here, take this ring,” he said, “I shall have use for it later.”
     The body was doused with Leon’s bottle of liquor – which he had with him despite his promises, for he said he always kept it “handy,” and fire did the rest for us . . .
     The same was done with the detestable younger male’s coffin – except he opened his terrible blue eyes when we set the stone aside.
     “Quiet now,” commanded Raven, and this time Leon took an arrow and pierced both heart and then set the whole thing ablaze.
     “And now, let us leave before this fiery inferno destroys us!” Leon exclaimed.
     “But what about Lynoria?” I asked.
     Raven looked at me.
     “She travels fast.  She no doubt has already transformed from this water to mist . . . we must follow the misty trails, the fog . . . seek any caverns and places full of dark dews and dank smells . . . that is what she loves . . . depravity . . . Come let us go . . .”

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