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Only years before have I heard this sound. This horrible wailing. I had done all I could to block it out. I had covered my ears and sang at the top of my lungs. I had closed every window and wrapped my head in blankets. Yet the horrible wailing never stopped. When it had, the first cries of my new baby brother had started in its place. I hadn’t had to go up to the birthing room to know what had happened. My mother had died giving birth, and the Banshee had been there to wail her horrible warning.
Now this same wailing was echoing through the house, through my room, and into my partly deaf ears. It was a beautifully horrifying sound. I coughed up a spew of blood, waiting for it all to end. I was dying of fever, and we all knew it. Even before the Banshee had started, we had known it was coming. The Banshee. The stupid Banshee! Announcing our deaths to all in the house! Why couldn’t we just have nice deaths? Quiet deaths? Peaceful and gentle?
That Banshee! I wanted to rip out her throat so she could never sing again! Heck, why couldn’t I? I was dying anyway. What did I have to lose?
Though my body was weak, my vision blurry, and my lungs burning, I pulled myself out of bed. The Banshee’s wail was getting louder. Did that mean my death was getting closer? Or maybe she knew of my intention. Whatever the reason, the wail would soon stop by my own hand.
My Papa and two eldest brothers were out hunting up some food while my third eldest and youngest brother remained here with me. With this said, I managed to make it down the stairs without being noticed. Once in the kitchen, my brother spotted me.
“Duana, what are you doing? You need to rest or you’ll get worse!” My brother exclaimed, coming to my side and catching my arm.
“What’s the point of resting?” I demanded, “I know you hear that Banshee too! We both know my death is coming.”
“Then let yourself have a peaceful death,” He begged.
I was getting annoyed, “I shan’t have one until that Banshee is gone!”
“Are you daft? Duana, you cannot attack a Banshee! The Faeries will surely torment you for it!”
“I’m dying anyway! I might as well take that evil spirit with me!” I screamed, yanking my arm from his hold. Without further argument, I made my way to the door.
“Duana, please don’t do this! What am I to tell Papa?”
“Tell him that no one will be bothered by that Banshee ever again!”
I flung open the door and stepped out into the frozen night air. My breath danced in front of me as a full moon shown down from the starry heavens. Now where was that Banshee? Ah, there she was. She was in her grave cloak; the cloak of the dead. Her fair hair was hanging around her hauntingly lovely face. Her eyes held a dark horror within, as if they themselves were the cause of all death.
How dare she allow herself to be seen the night of my death!
Behind me, I could hear my brother’s intake of breath. This was probably the most exciting and terrifying moment of his life. But to me, this was the moment I’d quiet the Banshee for eternity.
The Banshee’s wail picked up volume as I started towards her. My legs wobbled, my lungs were bursting and burning, my vision was swirling around me. No, I can’t die now. Not until I killed this Banshee; This witch; This Faerie; This Evil spirit. She’d die with me. I’d make sure of it. I was almost within reach of her when my body was racked by a coughing fit. Blood sprayed out at the ground as my whole body lurched with the violent motion. I hit the ground, feeling my body scream in pain. My vision was fading, but I could see her. She was staring down at me, her song reaching its momentum. No, not yet. I cannot die yet. Not yet.
My body was failing as more blood pooled beneath me, my mouth feeding it like a faucet. My vision blacked out and I could feel my soul leaving this world.
It took me a second to realize the Banshee’s song had stopped. Had she gotten tired of wailing? Had the moment of my death finally come? Either way, it did not matter. It was finally quiet.
If only that Banshee had gone down with me.
- by Kiamoranani |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 10/13/2008 |
- Skip
- Title: The Banshee
- Artist: Kiamoranani
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Description:
Just a random one-shot I wrote when I was reading up on Irish folklore. And for anyone who questions my spelling of 'Faerie', well, it's not wrong. That's how it's actually spelled. Look it up. And yes, the Banshee is classified as a Faerie.
Anyhow, please read and rate. I'm open to constructive criticism! - Date: 10/13/2008
- Tags: banshee faerie folklore death
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Comments (4 Comments)
- Zevraii Targarus - 05/14/2009
- sweet! that really rocks! For somereason it reminded me of the banshee from halo!
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- xblackxflag666 - 10/13/2008
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BUDDEH!!!!
yays! thats rele rele rele rele rele gooodd.... ^-^ - Report As Spam
- Emily_Shirley - 10/13/2008
- THATS GOOD! u should add more. or put in more detail. its a little short. but bits still amazing. also a little sad. 4/5. if anyone reads this please search emily_shirley
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- Kibavampire - 10/13/2008
- That was really cool! You should consider being a writer!
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