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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1068779-The-Love-and-The-Soul
by Sirkul
Rated: · Other · Mythology · #1068779
Love remembers, the soul forgets.


It was the middle of February and a bitter cold had moved in from the Pacific Northwest. Even for the climatically fickle state of Colorado, the weather was unusual, dropping into the low 40’s as a midday high. The streets were lined with ice; a light snow had been falling for days when I discovered that a new theater had opened on the Westside of Colorado springs.
I wondered how I hadn't noticed that it was being constructed.
It wasn’t one of those mega-plexes that seem to be taking over the world these days. No, this theater was done in the style of the 50’s theaters. A grandly lit marquis displayed the current films in decadent letters, displaying apparently only two screens. An old style box office jutted from the front of the building, flashing yellow bulbs moving around the windows. Pulp art signs advertised the films that played on mini billboards set against the walls.
It was unlike any theater I had been to before.
The ticket seller was a lanky skeletal looking man, hunched over and murmuring. His eyes were like the box office, set out of his head. The sparse gray hairs waved in the wind from an electric heater mounted on the ceiling. A red sheen glinted from his forehead as he parted his lips in a cadaverous smile.
“What are you here to see?” Even as he finished his sentence his features seemed to grow more pronounced, as if his eyes were actually extending from his head, followed closely by those awful teeth.
“The Loving Dead, Please.” I was trying to be as pleasant as possible.
“Four dollars, Madame.” His smile grew wider and it was in my attempted avoidance of eye contact, I noticed he was wearing a tuxedo. It was not the bright black of a new suit, however. This tuxedo had embroidery on the sleeves and collar and appeared to be the faded black of clothing many years old. I had seen statues in museums wearing similar looking suits.
He handed me my ticket and change, his eyes seemingly glowing in the reddish light.
“Enjoy the show miss, It IS opening night you know. I believe that you’ll only be one of the few in attendance, however, what with this ghastly weather and all. Unfortunate for such a splendid holiday. Don't you agree? ”
“Holiday? Oh, yeah.” My voice dropped at the recognition of Valentine's Day. "I had quite forgotten actually."
A look of alarm spread across his sunken features.
"Forgot? But, how can that be possible? Who forgets Valentine's Day, but the forgotten? Are you one of the forgotten, miss? I don't see the mark, so you must have been lucky thus far. However, should we continue this chatting, you will miss your feature. Enjoy the film miss. And do be careful in your departure, what with the weather and all." His sickly grin made me shiver.
I managed a polite "You too." while moving towards the main doors.
An usher directed me to my theater, his little glowing wand lighting the low-lit hallways approaching the individual theater doors.
"Your theater, miss." He said as he propped open the door to let me in.
"Thank you."

As the door shut behind me, my eyes took their time adjusting to the light, a pale yellow glow illuminating off of hanging tapestries on the walls. Glints of every color sparkled in the pale light, dancing in the eyes of the patrons, some whose faces held wonder, others horror.
The hallway I was standing in was long, curving at the end into darkness. I wondered how deep in it led, whether the screen was around that looming bend or if it went on forever.
I noticed a few other patrons here and there up the hallway, some with heads down, scurrying past the looming artworks while others seemed struck with awe, mouths hanging open as they slowly moved down the hallway.
Due to their size, I hadn’t yet perceived what the tapestries depicted, only that they were beautifully designed.
The hanging immediately in front of me had a great being that nearly filled the entirety of the embroidery. It looked massive, it's body seemed carved like that of an athletic young man. In one of its hands it held a quiver of quills and a bow, in the other, a mask resembling the common appearance of Cupid. An eerie green hue seemed to come from behind him, shimmering in the light as the heaters kicking on rustled the tapestry. It had a face, most definitely, but this god-like creature was not designed with humanity as its inspiration.
The face seemed like an illusion, out of place on such a muscular body. The features were there, without doubt, but they were not prominent like those of a person. They were more like shadows, as if, should I turn away too quickly, my eyes would never find them again. The mouth was a grin, not unkind in it’s way, but at first glance appeared as a scowl, the type that could peel skin from bones.
Atop the head there sat a crown of liquid flames, seemingly swaying in an unseen gale, resembling.
The creature was a biped, staunchly braced on legs seemingly carved from wood.
I had never seen anything like it.
Gathered around the base of the creature were perhaps 50 small winged replicas of the giant beast, all carrying similarly crafted bows and quills.
As if they had just appeared, creatures in the background caught my eye. These were beautiful, nymphs being the word that came to mind, nimble and lithe they seemed to dance through the sky, some floated on translucent wings near the face of the beast, whispering in his mistakable ears. Emblazoned in the shades of ocean waters, they blended in with the Mediterranean sky that silhouetted the beast, their bows and arrows glistening opaquely.
I could have sworn they were flitting here and there in the picture.
I wanted to touch this thing, to see what it was made of.
As I reached out to touch the bottom, I saw a man standing immediately next to me.
“Oh, Excuse me.” I went to step around, but he stepped back, beaming.
“Miss, Is this not an exquisite piece of work?” He had an accent that sounded like a Romanian vampire from one of those movies. His face was pale, his features forgettable. His looks were reminiscent of the floating beings from the tapestry, yet seemed somewhat familiar to me. A faded memory of something I couldn't quite seem to recall.
“I agree,” Looking to my watch for effect. “The show’s about to start. I should be going to my seat now.” I again moved to step around, but as I did, it seemed he was already standing there.
“Do you not know, Miss, that the posted show time includes 20 minutes margin for patrons to take in these marvelous works? I do believe that information is on the ticket."
Looking at my ticket, it was in fact listed there.
"Oh."
"I believe we have met before."
"What?" I scoffed.
"We are all children of Chaos. Humanity especially lays claim to that lineage. I was her first born, brought together from Night and Hell. Cupid."
"I, umm...don't really know what to say to that." This guy was getting stranger by the minute.
"I take it you don't know the history of the tapestries. By the by, you may touch it if you would like. Human hands cannot destroy the works of gods."
"No thank you, I'm quite alright."
He shook his head.
"You are so familiar to me..." He trailed off, his hand reaching out to touch my face as I took a step back.
"You remind me of my Psyche." He said, a look of sadness spreading over his face, his arm dropping to hang limply at his side.
"Sir, I really need to get to my seat. I desperately want to see this film." Getting as far away from you as possible you PSYCHO I add in my head.
His face straightens, his eyes becoming a piercing glare.
"I said Psyche. Not Psycho. You should really be more careful about your thoughts. They will betray you, as they did me." He began to pace.
"Besides, you will not miss your precious movie. Time is on hold for the moment and before you object to that idea, why don't you take a look around you? As you've been plotting your escape, you've forgotten your surroundings."
The patrons in the hallway were frozen, some in step, some with arms up, reaching to the painted idols on the walls.
"But.....How?"
"Time is inconsequential when you can control Hades. I am answering no more of your questions. I have come to bring you this." Reaching into his coat, he removed a box, ornately carved and gilded with gold.
I knew this box...but could not recall from when.
He saw the flicker of idle recognition in my eyes and grinned.
"So you remember, not consciously, but a part of you remembers..." He whispered.
I reached out to touch it, but he pulled it back sharply.
"You have already opened this box. That is why you are here. I have come to take you back."
"Back to where?" My throat was dry, my voice creaking out softly.
"I must awaken the soul. That is the only way." He leaned in and kissed me.


I awoke with a start in my dark room, shaking off the lingering effects of sleep. Looking over, the other half of my bed was filled with a human form. I could not recall who it was, a disturbing fact. Reaching over to turn on the light, a hand grabbed my arm.
"If the light is turned on love, it will flee." With that he let go, turning in the bed with his back to me.
I sat back, this feeling uncannily familiar.
When his breathing had slowed to the labored sounds of sleep, I turned on the light, viewing the man from the theater.
He awoke with a start and disappeared, a look of sorrow on his face.
I blinked and rubbed my eyes.
When I opened them, I found myself standing in the hallway in the theater.
This time however, I was alone.


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