Ghost Band One-Shots

Spöksonat

A/N: Enjoy - Cumulus

Within the grandeur of the Ministry's sacred confines, where the whispers of ancient stone carried the weight of centuries, Papa Emeritus III stood as a solitary figure upon the hallowed dais. The flickering candlelight cast long, dancing shadows across the worn stone walls, painting a haunting tableau befitting the sombre tale he was about to recount.

In the golden days of their love, Terzo and Evelyn had been inseparable, their hearts bound together by an unbreakable bond forged in the crucible of their shared devotion. Each stolen moment in the ministry's embrace was a symphony of passion. Their love an intoxicating elixir that fueled their very souls.

But like all things touched by the hand of time, their love began to fray at the edges, the strain of their differences pulling them inexorably apart. It was a chilly autumn evening when Evelyn's confession shattered the fragile illusion of their happiness, her words falling upon Papa Emeritus III like a dagger plunged deep into his wounded heart.

She spoke of dreams unfulfilled, of paths diverging, of love grown cold like the fading light of dusk. And with each syllable that passed her lips, Terzo felt the foundations of his world crumble beneath him, his heartrending cry lost amidst the solemn echoes of the Ministry's sacred halls.

In the aftermath of Evelyn's departure, Terzo found himself adrift upon a sea of sorrow, his once steadfast heart now a fractured vessel leaking pain and regret. Desperate to dull the ache that gnawed at his soul, he sought solace in the arms of countless others, their embraces offering only fleeting respite from the agony that consumed him.

But amidst the haze of his self-destructive path, fragments of Evelyn lingered like shards of broken glass, cutting deep into his fractured heart. Her memory haunted him, a relentless spectre that refused to be exorcised, her absence a constant reminder of the love he had lost.

As he stood upon the dais, his voice a mournful lament that echoed through the Ministry's cavernous halls, Papa Emeritus III bared his soul to the congregation gathered before him. His words were a symphony of sorrow, each note heavy with the weight of his pain and longing.

In the dim light, his face was a mask of anguish and resignation, the lines of sorrow etched deeply into his pallid features and aged him. But amidst the shadows, there was a glimmer of something akin to hope, a flickering ember of light in the darkness of his despair.

For even as he mourned the loss of Evelyn and the shattered remnants of their love, Terzo knew that the echoes of their shared passion would linger on, a haunting melody that would resonate through the ages, a testament to the power of love lost and the hope of love yet to be found.