Banshee

 

“But I’ve heard her!” A tall broad redhead screamed at me, throwing a carrot at me. I dodged, letting the carrot hit the mud with a thud. As Ii turned, she tossed a turnip. I caught it, tucking it into a pocket as I shook my head.  

I starred at the woman, her hand gesturing in the direction of the local graveyard, sincerity, and anger in her green eyes. Spit touched her lips as she yelled at me, proclaiming her experience to the village. They all watched, eyes peeled to the two of us as we stood off in the middle of the road.

A slow breath slid out of me as I tried to calm down. “I don’t really care. If you’ve heard her, that means it’s already too late anyway.”

“You’re a coward!” she screamed. This time a potato was hurled wildly at me, flying to the side and hitting a villager in the shoulder. 

“Fine. I’m a coward. Can you stop throwing food at me?”

We stared at each other, long moments of anger stretching into a deep distrust. “You’re supposed to protect us!”

“No. I’m not.”

“But you’re a Guardian!”

I walked closer to her, closing the distance between us. My eyes stared into hers, shifting from human to something else. “We guard them. Not you. Do you understand me?”

“You help villages! We heard. You and that thing in the swamp.”

My eyes rolled of their own will. “You’ll need to be more specific.”

“The wisps!”

I thought back to the shimmering light that was a lost soul and nodded. “Sure. I helped a ghost find the way forward.”

“Exactly. Now people don’t drown in that bog.”

I shrugged standing but a foot from her. “Bonus. But it wasn’t the goal. Your people are cruel, manipulative, and murderous. It is never for your benefit. You hear me?” 

“I don’t care,” she hissed. “There’s a thing in that graveyard and if you don’t handle it we’ll banish it.”

My jaw tensed and I looked away. The villagers had come closer, closing in around us in a circle. There were maybe forty of them. Small village. 

“If it is what you say it is, then it’s too late. If you’ve heard her, then she’s already told you what you need to know. Someone will die. You,  or someone in this village. She’s just trying to warn-”

“No. If you kill her, she will stop! She’ll disappear! And we’ll be safe!” Her hands touched my shoulders and shoved. 

“Fuck off,” I growled and moved my arms, pushing her away from me so that she stumbled backward, nearly falling. Hands grabbed me from every side, holding me from moving any closer to her. “Get off me!”

I turned, looking at the villagers. There was anger but there was fear too. My brows furrowed as I felt pity and sympathy for them. One of them would die soon, that was the gift of the creature. I pursed my lips and stepped into the crowd of them, pushing my way through them to the road. 

The woman’s voice carried after me. “Then this death is on your hands!”

“It always is,” I muttered under my breath. I stopped, grabbing the carrot from the mud, and cleaning it off before sliding it into my bag. She swore after me, but no more vegetables came flying. 

The road led down the woods, guiding me from the small village to the church and finally to the graveyard. It was twilight, the sun setting behind the trees. A grey sky loomed, clouds moving slowly overhead, casting shadows in the woods. 

I paused, glancing at the entrance to the old graveyard. My head shook. “No,” I muttered, walking away from the graveyard, footfalls heavy as I trudged towards the road headed east. 

A sigh came from my lips. I stopped, looking down the road, arms on my hips as I thought of the villagers. They were idiots, deluded into believing killing something would save any of them. But the risk they would find a way to banish the woman, to silence her forever, was real enough I had to consider it. 

Most humans were utterly incapable of dealing with spirits but usually managed to hurt them or capture them. Or worse, kill them. I chewed on my bottom lip and then turned back, walking towards the graveyard. 

It was old, stones set up to mark various graves and wooden crosses here and there. I walked amongst them, looking for any hint of disturbance. One grave was fresh, no older than a month in the ground. I paused by it, looking over the simple stone that had been placed there. 

Night began to set, darkening the sky. Stars showed up one at a time, twinkling above me. I sat on the stone fence, watching the eerie fog move in through the trees. It was too cold for insects to be alive, and my skin felt like I had been swimming in a lake by the time the moon rose and its light gave enough to see by.

The eerie silence felt comforting after the confrontation in the village. I turned my head, looking through the trees at their homes. No fires were lit. Blankets were over windows. Anything to make it seem like no one was home soo that the creature couldn’t find them. I shook my head at their ignorance, turning back to the graveyard.

From my bag, I pulled a small silver bell and candle. Exhaling my anger, I pulled in a slow breath then rang the bell three times. “Come to me,” I murmured, repeating the phrase three times, as the bell had run. Then I lit the candle, setting it on the stone to my side, and looked into the mist. 

The fog thickened, growing denser. Beside me the candle flickered, drawing my eyes away from the mist for a moment. When I glanced back, something loomed within the darkness, body moving through the haze with even, careful strides. I couldn’t make out their features, but II heard their voice long before I saw them.

A haunting, melodic wail ripped through the air. It was high-pitched yet beautiful, eerie and stunning. It sent chills up my arms and down my spine at once. It receded slowly before restarting, sometimes at higher pitches and sometimes lower, though it never ended. 

The figure in the mist wandered forward, moving between the rows of marked graves. I stood, watching as she walked, floating preternaturally. Long red hair drifted behind her, seeming to move of its own accord, entangling the mist. She wore a long elegant dress in grey tones, silk and lace, yet it was aged and torn. 

Tears streamed down her face and dripped onto the dress, yet no wetness appeared. I tilted my head as I approached her, trying to find a lull in her wailing to catch her attention. Her eyes remained tightly closed, never opening to look at me. I walked beside her, boots crunching on the grass caught in the frost.

A moment passed when she paused, eyes opening to look down at the fresh grave. 

“Who lies here?” I dared to ask before she could start again. 

The woman turned her head, looking at me. She was ethereal and frightening, beyond the ability of a mind to understand. In one glance she was beautiful, incredible to behold. In the next, she was monstrous, undead and decayed. Both existed at once yet the mind could not perceive her wholly.

I blinked and glanced down to the grave as she continued to stare at me. “Bethany,” she finally replied, voice echoing in the mist.

“Who was she to you?” 

The banshee wailed again, collapsing to her knees, hands touching her face. I knelt beside her, touching her shoulders gently. In my arms, she shook, turning to lean her head against my shoulder, pressing her forehead against my neck. 

We knelt together, her wailing quieting to a soft sob. I moved her hair back from her face, then gently brushed away the last of the tears. “You’re okay,” I murmured, pressing my lips to her forehead. “You’re okay.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, shifting to look at me. “Who are you? Are you from the village?”

I shook my head. “No. Why are you crying?”

The green eyes stared at the grave, tears threatening to overcome her again. I squeezed her shoulders. “The village… they will perish. The well-” she hiccoughed and then let out a deep wail again. Tears poured over her eyes once more, body shaking with each sob. 

We sat on the ground together, me murmuring soft reassurances. “The well? Someone poison it?”

The banshee shook her head. I thought of the anger in the woman, the sharp looks, and the fear in their eyes. “Did someone fall in? Are they rotting in there?”

Her wailing grew louder, a loud confirmation of my fears. She was mourning who had died there, not who was going to die. I pursed my lips. “I need to tell them.”

She nodded and leaned on me. “They’re so… scared of me… I can’t speak… to them.”

“I wouldn’t. They think you’re frightening.”

The banshee sobbed harder. Her hand moved, touching the ground where the fresh grave sat. “Was she family to you?”

She shook her head. “No. She…” she sniffed. “She sang with me. Here. I wasn’t alone.”

A new sadness touched my heart as I held her, rocking her in my arms. “I’m so sorry you lost her. I’m here, though.”

“You will leave.”

“Yes,” I said. “But you need to appreciate what is here now. Trust what it is. You live always in the past or in the future, seeing doom and death everywhere. Yet have you found anything that lets you just be?”

I touched her face, brushing away one tear. “Look at me. Shh. What do you need?”

Her bright eyes looked at mine, glancing down to my lips and then up to my eyes again. “Will you stay? Just tonight?”

I smiled and nodded. “I will.”

“Help me keep from crying?”

My lip quirked into a smirk. “I can help you cry loudly in another way if you want. It would frighten the villagers but it might make you have a night of peace.”

The specter flushed and leaned back, looking at me with both curiosity and wonder. “You would…?”

I nodded and stood, offering my hand to her. She didn’t hesitate but rested her cold hand in mine within a moment. I pulled her to her feet and walked with her to the stone laid into the ground, the burial site of someone whose name had long been forgotten. 

Her lips found mine as we stopped, cold and dead. She tasted like dew on the morning grass, wet as the mist and somehow intangible. I traced her bottom lip with my tongue, softly teasing her translucent flesh with my own, hands cupping her face. 

Fingers pulled on my jacket, drawing me closer to her. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and back, drawing her into my flesh and warmth. The mist swarmed around us, moving with her as I trailed my lips down her jaw to her throat, tasting and nipping as I went. 

It was like biting wet air, yet she moaned in response. I paused, looking up at her closed eyes, face lost in ecstasy. “Can you feel this?”

There was a hint of a nod. “Yes and no. It is real yet far away, a memory of affection.”

I moved down to my knees, gently pulling her with me. She knelt beside me, lips finding mine again. Her kiss deepened, pulling me atop her as she laid down upon the cold stone. Beneath her, old carved words rested, edges so softened it was unreadable. 

My fingers caressed her hair as I laid atop her, mouth exploring her own. Soft moans began to escape from her with each kiss we shared. Her legs parted, wrapping around my hips, nearly weightless yet there, dampening my clothes. 

I moved lower, kissing down her neck again and over her breasts through the fabric of her dress. Her back arched, hand running through my hair, tightening, and nearly pulling. I smirked at her restraint, at the fear of being too wild. 

“Let go, my lady,” I whispered. “They hear you scream every night. Tonight will be no exception.”

She giggled, looking down at me as I pulled up the skirts of her dress, eyes locked onto hers. My tongue teased over the lips of her opening, deliberately avoiding the soft nub of flesh between them. Her cry was loud and full of hunger and frustration that I did not get give what she wanted.

Her hand tugged at my hair, drawing my mouth to her groin. I slid my arms around her hips, holding her steady as I leaned my head down and let my tongue dive into her depths. Her cry of joy echoed around the wounds, bouncing off of the trees and into the village. 

I lapped at her, sucking and nipping as she whimpered and cried. My mouth explored every part of her I could, moving slow and taking my time, refusing to let her release too soon. She bucked and shuddered, sitting up only to fall back down as she drew closer. 

My mouth stopped, kissing her inner thighs instead. “You’re driving me mad,” she whimpered, trembling beneath me.

“Good,” I whispered, bitting her abdomen. 

She jumped, looking down at me, mouth open in soft protest before I let my tongue swirl around her center, faster and faster before pulling the nub of flesh into my mouth in a long, hard suck. The banshee screamed, loud and perfect, but instead of a sob, a sound of divine ecstasy followed.

Her body twitched and shuddered, melding with my mouth and my body as she did so, only t separate and form again. My mouth refused to relent, even as she told me she had felt it and quaked. I slid my fingers inside f her, slowly moving them in and out before pushing deeper.

New sounds of pleasure escaped her, hips moving to work in tandem with my hand. The cries of delight became low moans of animalistic need. My hand moved faster, then turned, fingers curling upward to flick at her insatiable spot. 

The banshee’s sound grew louder and louder again, becoming a new crescendo against the solitude of the night. Our bodies moved together, hers writhing in ecstasy as my mouth and fingers drove her to completion. She gripped my hair with her hands, tightening hard and pulling my face to her wetness as she rode the wave of rapture.

Panting, she released me, moaning softly and happily. Her hands slid from my hair to glide over my shoulders. I lifted my head, looking up at her. The silly grin on her lips made me smile as I climbed back up to her mouth, kissing her deeply.

“You are a wonder,” she giggled. 

I smirked. “You’re inspiring.” 

Dawn threatened the horizon and she sighed, touching the stone beneath her. I shifted, kneeling. “Is this an important grave?”

“It’s mine,” she said. “I was the first buried here.”

“Do you miss it?”

A faraway look touched her eyes. “No. They were cruel and suspicious then.”

“Not much has changed,” I replied. 

Light touched the horizon and the banshee appeared more and more thin, beginning to fade away. She turned to me, a smile n her lips for the first time in a very long time. “Sing for me?”

A sad smile touched my lips and I nodded. The song was the one I knew locals would still sing, of the girl who fell in love with a wolf. The hunters killed the wolf, leaving her alone, where she sang a song and haunted the woods forever, waiting for her wolf to come home.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she looked at the arriving sun, the sile no her lips disappearing as she did. The mist began to vanish, evaporating as the light invaded the woods. In the last moment before she vanished, she turned, looking at me, hand touching my cheek before she was gone.

I sighed, lips pressing together. As the sun rose, I stood, turned, and walked back towards the village.