large/8432/short_ghost_horror_12_1102_64kb_mp3/ghohor012_07_eachmankills_glad_um_64kb_67
large/8432/short_ghost_horror_12_1102_64kb_mp3/ghohor012_07_eachmankills_glad_um_64kb
English
8432
Susceptible to suggestion. Had I been confronted with an Eve, I should have run like hell. To him, though, she was cloaked in mystery; hence, more desirable. What better choice for him ultimately than Ria? That Ria had to die to achieve her happiness is of no real importance. Life is a transitory thing anyway. SUCCEPTABLE TO SUGGESTION HAD I BEEN CONFRONTED WITH AN EVE I SHOULD HAVE RUN LIKE HELL TO HIM THOUGH SHE WAS CLOAKED IN MYSTERY AND MORE DESIRABLE WHAT BETTER CHOICE FOR HIM ULTIMATELY THAN RIA THAT RIA HAD TO DIE TO ACHIEVE HER HAPPINESS IS OF NO REAL IMPORTANCE LIFE IS A TRANSITORY THING ANYWAY
hes. "We must bury these dead, that they may sleep in consecrated ground." I couldn't. I had to see her again before it was done. She lay, small and fragile as ever, her face calm, only there was no trace of life now. She was still and white, as only the dead—the truly dead—are. Tod's arm was flung across her chest, as if to protect her. I made myself move the arm, resting her head upon his shoulder, where it belonged. Then, as I looked, there was just Maria. Tod was gone and only a handful of dust lay piled up around the stake. It was enough. I slammed the lid shut. Looking back now, I can see it was all for the best. Ria was different—apart from other women. A dreamer, a mystic, too easily influenced by the bizarre and un-normal. I, on the other hand, am practical almost to a fault. Had she married me I might have crushed in her the very thing that drew me to her. In time she might have grown to hate me. Hunter, on the other hand, was a student. Introspective, given to romanticizing. LY AFTER A TIME HIS FACE THE COLOUR OF ASHES WE MUST BURY THESE DEAD THAT THEY MAY SLEEP IN CONSECRATED GROUND I COULDN'T I HAD TO SEE HER AGAIN BEFORE IT WAS DONE SHE LAY SMALL AND FRAGILE AS EVER HER FACE CALM ONLY THERE WAS NO TRACE OF LIFE NOW SHE WAS STILL AND WHITE AS ONLY THE DEAD THE TRULY DEAD ARE TOD'S ARM WAS FLUNG ACROSS HER CHEST AS IF TO PROTECT HER I MADE MYSELF MOVE THE ARM RESTING HER HEAD UPON HIS SHOULDER WHERE IT BELONGED THEN AS I LOOKED THERE WAS JUST MARIA TOD WAS GONE AND ONLY A HANDFUL OF DUST LAY PILED UP AROUND THE SPAKE IT WAS ENOUGH I SLAMMED THE LID SHUT LOOKING BACK NOW I CAN SEE IT WAS ALL FOR THE BEST RIO WAS DIFFERENT APART FROM OTHER WOMEN A DREAMER A MYSTIC TOO EASILY INFLUENCED BY THE BIZARRE AND UNNORMAL I ON THE OTHER HAND AM PRACTICAL ALMOST TO A FAULT HAD SHE MARRIED ME I MIGHT HAVE CRUSHED IN HER THE VERY THING THAT DREW ME TO HER IN TIME SHE MIGHT HAVE GROWN TO HATE ME HUNTER ON THE OTHER HAND WAS A STUDENT INTROSPECTIVE GIVEN TO ROMANTICISING
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