A spine-tingling collection of bloodcurdling microfiction inspired by the "30 Days of Spooky Tales" prompts offered up by the @adultfiction, @ChickLit, @MicroBytes and @Paranormal profiles.
The details I have recounted at length within these pages have been, as you would expect, the facts as I know them, drawn from the universal absolutes that form the foundations of our understanding of the world and all that is within it.
I must now conclude by committing to writing some things that fall outside the boundaries of science. From anyone else, I would surely consider these the ravings of a madman, just as I am certain you would, but I beseech you to give me the benefit of the doubt, old friend. You know me as well as any man and can attest that I have always been of a stable mind.
It won't leave me, this idée fixe that some ill befell Wilhelmina, the lady I befriended on the cruise.
She was ghastly, chalkily pale by the time our fortnight on the Black Sea came to an end. I observed those among the other ninety-eight passengers who required some days to gain their sea legs, however, Wilhelmina was a fine picture of health upon first encountering her on deck who, contrary to conventional thinking, had all but lost her sea legs when we said our farewells in Istanbul.
The ship docked in Turkey, the Soviet Republic, Romania and Bulgaria. I was much too enthralled by the books I collected from our colleagues in Yalta to be distracted by the final stops in Odesa, Constanța and Varna. It troubles me greatly to think that it was my penchant for the academic that has been the undoing of Wilhelmina, for I discerned a change in her during the final days of our cruise, after Constanța.
I will just come out and state her symptoms because to beat about the bush might only muddy the waters of my conviction.
A distinct departure of colour (even from the areas of her lips and gums), a mounting loss of strength, an aversion to sunlight and a preference for the night. The last time I saw her, in Istanbul, she looked dreadful—the bones of her face stood out prominently, and not for a want of food, neigh, for I had taken care to ensure she got three square meals a day. If I were a medical doctor I would prescribe Wilhelmina a swift transfusion of blood!
If you follow my train of thought, you will know the diagnosis I have arrived at. But it couldn't be, that is just a legend, is it not? The rational part of my brain refuses to believe that of the hundred passengers, one debarked not alive but animated by a supernatural force.
Some things are too good to last, but I assure you I have not been separated from my senses. I implore you to consider my words with your usual meticulous care and eye for detail. God willing, I hope to hear from you soon. Do send me any papers you have on the dark underbelly of Constanța and its environs.
Your friend,
Jonathan
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