The object was to include the following line from Bram Stoker‘s Dracula;

“His eyes blazed with a sort of demonic fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat”.

[NOTE: I didn‘t win e100.00c book voucher, but, thought would share with you; Comments of any description welcome]

Standing Nonchalant

Patrick Benignus Bennett copyrighted

His eyes blazed with a sort of demonic fury, and he suddenly made a grab at my throat. As bony white fingers took hold, terror before unknown cloaked. Even now, as mind raced, I could still feel embarrassment as urine soaked pants. As last of oxygen struggled in lungs, my body went limp. Knowing power was all his, he loosened grip. I slipped to wet cold stones, drawing knees automatically up into foetal position. Standing nonchalant over, calmly gloving hands, he tilted head skywards letting out a low guttural laugh. That sound reignited distracted terror within, my mind leaped wildly through thought patterns, what.. what did he want of me, what would he do to me; the contrast of warm urine on thigh with chill of wet slabs under seeped into thoughts. My mind recklessly leaped as lay motionless helpless powerless to his will. He stepped lithely back, sneered coldly and let loose, I felt shooting pain in ribs as his high-polished leather boot thumped into side. Gasping air through pained lungs, I rocked side to side as he spat words at me, You dare.. to Desecrate.. Meee! Reaching he grabbed my coat-front and easily jerked to feet. In hellish intimacy several times his nose brushed back and forth across mine, a putrid stench overwhelmed nostrils as involtarily I retched, laughing loudly he flung me away to fall hard against stone. I lay cold whimpering with pain as words of Patrick Kavanagh’s “On Raglan Road” wandered over mind. Slowly I roused as eyes struggled to adjust. Soreness seeped to consciousness as events flooded back. Senses began to register dank odour within dark confines. I felt cold metal against skin. Aches through body were accompanied by dimming spirit. Something touched shin. Flicking right foot a squeal echoed as sharp rib pain caused me groan. As I began to slump muttering sweet Jesus sweet Lord Jesus free me from this insanity, sound of a key turning in door lock brought me sharply up. Light glare filled room. A crouched figure opened padlock. Taking hold of clean steel chain, he tugged me follow through door. Painfully standing, I reluctantly trudged after. Descending loft-ladder, he beckoned me along carpeted corridor. We entered into large handsomely decorated room. He sat with silver goblet in left-hand on black leather settee in front of book shelved walls. With slight gesture of head, my guide let chain go and sat in armchair beneath portrait. I stood helpless as he looked into me. Seconds heavily fell as shivering I ached. With slight movement of his menacing eyes, he directed me to window. I walked to large window and stood in amazement too confusion; busy below lay O’Connell bridge. Shaking mind I looked beyond to see the’Spire like some giant silver steel steak, a monstrous thing to ant like creatures that milled about it. Tormented. It slow dawned on me that this maybe his way of showing these sights, the’Liffey mirroring sky too buildings, O’Connell bridge and street buzzing with revellers, for my last time. I turned head slow towards settee expecting to find that cold sneer etched on his dead features. He was gone. Looking hurriedly around, guffaws from his assistant caught attention. He sat giddy trembling, a shaking finger pointed, my eyes followed until they rested on a raven perched atop bookshelves peering into me. It’s head slow moved hypnotic in motion all the while holding gaze. Numbed I stood in this nightmare, wondering outcome whilst crying within for divine intervention. With flutter of wings, his assistant fell silent as raven swooped to appear menacing as he before me. Smiling deathly, he slowly ungloved. You! Would desecrate me. He flexed bony fingers; from somewhere on night sounds of Thin Lizzy carried, “I think I‘m fallin to pieces…”

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