It infuriated the stepmother that her gorgonian seduction didn't have any effect on me. It was obvious that she always got what she wanted, using her body as the main argument. But that trick didn't work on me. Her only defence was to discredit my masculinity and embarrass me. Her words didn't hurt as much as the red, bloody marks on my chest.
I couldn't deny my attraction to the dead, though. That was why everyone avoided me. I didn't consider it as some sick fantasy. I just happened to prefer stagnation. I've never crossed the line, but I often thought of it.
Women like Gabrielle's evil stepmother didn't interest me. I enjoyed their beauty, but from a distance. Tranquillity, secrecy, and nervous sighs turned me on. Serenity made my heartbeat go faster. However, the rough and vulgar behaviour of the blond repelled me. Gabrielle was the kind of woman I felt attracted to. Or maybe I felt that way because she was dead.
The incident between the stepmother and I didn't concern me. Whether she told others about me or not, it would only add up to my sinister image. What worried me was her presence at the cemetery that night. I didn't believe she came there to grieve. I couldn't get rid of the feeling that Gabrielle was in danger, even after her death. I decided to check up on her, and I was pleasantly surprised to see more tailflowers growing at her grave.
Gabrielle was resting in peace. No one had disturbed her. I stood by her grave for some time, fighting the longing to commit the sin of the night before. Thankfully, it was broad daylight and there were visitors. If it weren't for them, I wouldn't be able to control myself. I smiled nervously at the thought of coming back later that day when everyone was gone. Before leaving, I thought I heard someone whimpering but I blamed it on the sick arousal running through my veins.
I loved my job, and all responsibilities related to it, but that day seemed to be unbearably long. The digging out of new graves and the paperwork didn't bring the satisfaction I normally felt after executing all the formalities. I wanted for the visitors to leave the cemetery to spend some time with Gabrielle. But at the end I was so worn out I decided to rest a little before showing up at her cradle.
I didn't notice how my light drowse transformed into a deep and peaceful sleep. I couldn't force myself to wake up from that comatose slumber. And the reason therefore were the sweet images I saw in my dreams. Images so vivid and sensual I'd rather have died at daybreak to spend the eternity with my early deceased love.
I saw Gabrielle and she was alive in my dream. She ran barefoot through a dark forest, wearing a white, almost transparent nightgown. Her hair was white as ashes. Someone, or something, was chasing her.
In the meantime, I was digging out a grave somewhere in the depths of that forest. The broad grave was meant for me, for the future, hidden behind dense trees, lighted by the moon above. I heard her yelling for help and at once ceased my work. I crawled out of my grave and ran towards her cries. The thorny tree branches cut my skin as I dashed through the obscurity of the woods. At some point, we bumped into each other. The collision of our bodies was so forceful she fell on her back. She looked at me with big, scared eyes, breathing heavily. I sank on my knees before her and asked what had happened to her.
That was the first time I heard Gabrielle speak. Her angelic voice echoed in the chilly night and penetrated the dark sky, making stars vibrate. Licking away the tears on her lips, she told me someone wanted to kill her. She begged me to save her from her pursuers. Without hesitation I picked her up and carried her to my secret spot in the woods. She was light and fragile, and trembled like an Autumn leaf.
I showed her my grave. Gabrielle clenched to my pullover with her small hands as she looked down. I told her it was my hiding place and that no one would find us there. She was hesitant at first, but the approaching crepitating noises behind us made her change her mind. I jumped down and helped her to descend.
We were lying at the bottom of the grave; her shaking body pressed against mine. Her white hair smelled of lavender. Gabrielle focused on the sounds coming from above and didn't notice how I pulled her closer to me. Only when my fingers touched her leg as I was trying to pull up the hem of her nightgown, she reacted and pushed me away. Gabrielle shook her head and held her hand up to keep me at a distance. My eyes wandered off to her tiny, blistered feet. I grabbed one foot and held it between my hands, warming it with my breath. She tried to release herself, but I didn't let go and seized the other foot as well. I massaged them, paying attention to every inch of her soles and toes, going up to her ankles and calves, and further on to her inner thighs meanwhile listening to her subdued gasps.
I could tell Gabrielle was extremely excited when my lips brushed against her panties. She told me to stop, but the feverish blush on her cheeks betrayed her true feelings. Gabrielle didn't want me to stop; she was just nervous and afraid. I told her she was safe with me, and that I wouldn't let anyone hurt her. Finally, she gave in to me and let me unbutton her nightgown, as I covered her pale chest with hot kisses.
We were afraid of being heard by her pursuers, but it was difficult to keep our sighs down as I entered her. And then there were howls. At first, I thought they were coming from the forest. But gradually I realised the forest didn't exist and the earthly walls of the pit around me were collapsing, burying me underneath its weight, and sucking Gabrielle deeper down into its core. I tried to pull her out but failed.
Next, I woke up screaming, with my bed sheet tied around my neck, almost strangulating me. I undid the noose and gasped for air, suffocating not only from asphyxiation but also from the thought of losing Gabrielle.
Despite it being a dream.
Despite her being dead.
It was midnight. No one was supposed to be in the graveyard, but I heard men yelling outside. That's when I remembered I had forgotten to close the gates. Bewildered, I ran outside to find out what was going on. The intruders weren't local kids as I had expected. Three grown-up men in black clothes and balaclavas took flight from the cemetery as if something monstrous was chasing them. One man's face was uncovered, and I recognised a local rioter with whom I once had a fight outside a bar. His name was Mario or Marnie. One of those names suitable for cheats and criminals.
I jumped in front of him, preventing him from getting away. He was in a state of frenzy, screaming and kicking like a madman trying to get rid of me. He toppled me over and roared in my face, "Let me go, caretaker! Save yourself! THE DEAD ARE RISING FROM THEIR GRAVES!"
He left me on the ground and sprinted to the gate. I heard him shouting the last words repeatedly, as he was racing down the street. I got back on my feet and headed to the graveyard. I felt a painful contraction in the region of my heart. I knew this time something bad had happened to Gabrielle. Something inherently evil. And my presentiment was confirmed.
I found her grave desecrated. The flowers were downtrodden. Her tombstone split in two after it fell on a metal pike of the fence enclosing her grave. The culprits left their shovels and other burglar equipment after they dug her out.
From where I stood the ravaged cradle looked like an open wound. I fell on my knees from helplessness. I knew I had to call the police and report the felony, but I couldn't bring myself to it. Besides, I had a morbid curiosity to see her now that I had the occasion. I crawled closer to the grave and looked down over its edge.
I felt my blood run cold as I stared into Gabrielle's open eyes.