The End of Eden

XLI

It's full dark when the gongs sound, echoing throughout the silence of Eden.

The cut along my stomach snags against the dress I'm wearing; it's the crocheted dress I wore when I became the bride. It's only a bit more snug now than what it was a few months ago. I refused to dress the cut along my skin though, so the fibers chafe and pull at the scabbed over bits, opening the wound up and making me bleed anew. The cool autumn night makes my skin prickle, for I have not a single bit of clothing under the dress.

Soon, the supplicants of Sleep will arrive to the courtyard, but for now, it is empty, save for me, and Annabelle, a blindfold of white ribbon over her eyes.

I can hear her quiet whimpers, the silent tears she cries. She is bound up on the pyre, her hands stretched up and bound behind her back in a T shape, and a thick, long length of white ribbon has been placed between her teeth, to silence her cries. The white of the ribbons are flecked and strained with red, blood seeping from the sockets of her eyes, her lips. The ribbons are so full of her blood, they cannot possibly hold any more. She flinches away from me as I reach up and gently touch her stained cheek with my fingertips.

Fresh tears and blood seep from the ribbons and down her pallid skin, and they caress over my fingertips before I pull my hand away to examine the drops left on my skin. I brush my fingers along my lips, tasting the salty and metallic wetness that has been left behind.

"Don't mourn," I say out loud, "you will soon be with Sleep."

Through the gag, she wails. But I know she will never speak again.

I stand in front of her as people silently file into the courtyard, a hush falling over them as they see me in my dress, and someone on the pyre, silently crying, every inch of her unharmed as by the vessels since they had promised to not lay a hand on her months ago. They only helped drug her, and strap her up in the courtyard.

I had placed her eyes into a jar, along with the length of her tongue, and it sat at the edge of the courtyard, where I had left it.

I can feel their presence then, all four of them sliding into the courtyard. In the torchlight, I can see the wild eyes of Three, gleeful for another tribunal. Two's eyes dart between Annabelle and I, accessing, ever watchful, ready to intervene. Vessel himself watches me, though his eyes are covered by his mask, and he takes a seat on a wicker chair that is a veritable throne with how large it is, though plain.

Four though... he looks everywhere but at me, and when his eyes do meet mine, they glance away just as quickly. He is unhappy about the situation, wishing it had turned out differently, saddened that I was hurt, and furious I made him keep his promise to not hurt Annabelle. There would be no other reason why he would be upset.

"I will do it myself," I said once they had strapped her up. She had hurt me directly, so I would be her judge and jury.

I would be the bearer of her flame.

"My family," I call out into the courtyard once everyone is silent and settled. "I have gathered you all here today to witness this tribunal of your beloved sister, and supplicant of Sleep, Annabelle."

I step aside, and swing out my arm towards her, her head hung low as if hiding her face from all. I approach her side and sink my hands into her golden blonde hair and wrench her head back for everyone to see her face.

"For too long, she had coveted that which Sleep had given to others. For too long, she has felt forgotten in his honors, and increasingly enraged by these perceived trespasses made against her. Sleep has chosen his favorite, and chosen her to received these honors, and yet, she rebuked it, feeling as if it was taken from her." I pause, looking at the faces of those sitting in front of me, not one look of fear in their faces, but anger towards their sister. "For so long, she has abused me, verbally, mentally, and today, for the first and last time, physically. Your sister Annabelle has transgressed against me by spilling my own lifeblood, the blood that not only keeps me alive, but keeps another alive as well."

I touch the skin of my stomach through the crocheted dress, my fingers brushing against the soft, plumpness under. Someone hisses, low and quiet, and then others join in. They must see me for what I have become. I raise my hands up to the sleeves of the dress and shove it down, the other following. I rip the yarn from my body, the fibers stretch and snap, exposing me. Exposing the delicate curve of my stomach.

"I am the chosen one of Sleep," I yell into the night, into the hisses. "I AM the vessel of Sleep. I am his vessel for I carry his child inside of me, his child that will walk in Eden. Your sister Annabelle has attacked me, and our child, and therefore she has attacked Sleep himself!"

I scream the last few words, as I fling my arms wide, allowing everyone to see my body and how it has changed in this short amount of time. The hisses become shouts and screams of rage as I turn aside and pluck up the jar of oil and fling it onto the trembling form of Annabelle. No one will step forward for her, her crimes against Sleep too great and too unforgivable.

"I send her to Sleep!" I scream, as I pick up a torch from a brazier, raise it above Annabelle, and let it fall.

The air above her ignites, and then the oil on her skin, and her feet light up. Her mouth is open in anguish as I watch her skin burn, her hair catch flame. There is the beautiful smell of charred flesh in the air as I fall to my knees, my arms open wide, face tilted towards the skies.

And I laugh in exaltation.

I am blinded by the glee, and lucidity fails me.