"Hmm," Cam said. They'd known this was coming, and they'd tried to think of a good story to tell, but they hadn't really settled on one by the time Sam called on them. In fact, they were having trouble thinking of any ghost stories they knew -- their mind kept landing on spooky stories that didn't technically have ghosts in them. So they decided to just make one up. "OK, here goes."
Leaning forward, Cam began their story in a hushed voice. "Once, there was a king whose lust was exceeded only by his cruelty. A beautiful woman came to his court, and though she was the wife of another, the king desired her. He sent her husband off to war, ordering that the man be placed on the front lines of a suicide mission, and soon news of the man's death arrived. The king comforted the grieving widow, plied her with sympathy and honeyed words, and soon she relented and became his wife."
Cam paused, organizing their thoughts as to how the story should continue. "For a while, the king was satisfied. But his eye wandered, and soon he found a new target for his lust, a new woman he wished to possess. He had grown bored of his wife, and looked for an excuse to be rid of her. Finally, he accused her of treason and had her beheaded. Not long after was his wedding to his new bride, an elaborate and opulent affair. She came to the altar veiled and spoke little during the ceremony, only saying, 'I do,' in a strangled voice. But the king attributed this to her excitement over her big day, and if he smelled something odd around his bride -- something like blood and rot -- he dismissed it, so eager was he to wed and bed his new wife."
As the pieces of their story came together, Cam couldn't help smiling. Maybe it was a little long and rambling, but they liked the ending they'd improvised. "The king could barely wait for the ceremony to finish. Finally, he lifted the veil to kiss his new bride -- and found that she had no head! The veil fluttered to the ground as the blood stump turned towards the king. Air whistling through the hole where the throat had once been formed the words, 'My husband, my husband ... Where is my head? What have you done with my head?'
"The king recoiled, horrified, but the bride came after him, reaching for him. 'My husband, my husband ... I can't find my head. I need a head. I need yours!'"
Another pause, this one longer, a moment for audience reactions. Then Cam leaned in further to finish the story. "They still tell that story in the region, warning men against lust and cruelty. For they say that her husband's head did not last the ghost very long, and should a man too closely remind her of her husband, she might mistake him for the long-dead king ... and come for his head!"
Cam sat back, somewhat satisfied with the story they'd told.
Leaning forward, Cam began their story in a hushed voice. "Once, there was a king whose lust was exceeded only by his cruelty. A beautiful woman came to his court, and though she was the wife of another, the king desired her. He sent her husband off to war, ordering that the man be placed on the front lines of a suicide mission, and soon news of the man's death arrived. The king comforted the grieving widow, plied her with sympathy and honeyed words, and soon she relented and became his wife."
Cam paused, organizing their thoughts as to how the story should continue. "For a while, the king was satisfied. But his eye wandered, and soon he found a new target for his lust, a new woman he wished to possess. He had grown bored of his wife, and looked for an excuse to be rid of her. Finally, he accused her of treason and had her beheaded. Not long after was his wedding to his new bride, an elaborate and opulent affair. She came to the altar veiled and spoke little during the ceremony, only saying, 'I do,' in a strangled voice. But the king attributed this to her excitement over her big day, and if he smelled something odd around his bride -- something like blood and rot -- he dismissed it, so eager was he to wed and bed his new wife."
As the pieces of their story came together, Cam couldn't help smiling. Maybe it was a little long and rambling, but they liked the ending they'd improvised. "The king could barely wait for the ceremony to finish. Finally, he lifted the veil to kiss his new bride -- and found that she had no head! The veil fluttered to the ground as the blood stump turned towards the king. Air whistling through the hole where the throat had once been formed the words, 'My husband, my husband ... Where is my head? What have you done with my head?'
"The king recoiled, horrified, but the bride came after him, reaching for him. 'My husband, my husband ... I can't find my head. I need a head. I need yours!'"
Another pause, this one longer, a moment for audience reactions. Then Cam leaned in further to finish the story. "They still tell that story in the region, warning men against lust and cruelty. For they say that her husband's head did not last the ghost very long, and should a man too closely remind her of her husband, she might mistake him for the long-dead king ... and come for his head!"
Cam sat back, somewhat satisfied with the story they'd told.
cameron ?
"Cameras" by Ennev is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
