Dance Of Hades

I suppose they had been waiting for me. But the unfamiliarity of the place I arrived at had almost fooled me into believing that I might have escaped them. They were tapping their long fingers against the glass of the table. Right leg draped over left leg. Their long robes flowing seductively down to the floor. Their eyes with menacing slits watching me.

Even when I pulled into the driveway, it seemed like they might have been left behind. For on the long flight, the ease with which I managed to sleep, the gusto with which I tucked in the insipid meals they hadn't once intruded. Every mile further from the familiar and it seemed like I might be able to come to terms with it after all. Even as I opened the gate. Or walked up the stairs. Or rang the bell. Even as I was greeted with practiced indifference. Like all the other times.

Even then, it seemed like it was possible. As if one wasn't too far away from actually breaking free. Yet, as I set my bags down in the room and turned around to look, there they were. Flashing me their sinister smiles. Nail on glass making an impatient rhythm. I backed against the wall away from them. Hands against my throat to muffle my cry. And they broke into a silent laugh. Threw their heads back and held their abdomens as they toppled off their chairs with the glee of having taken me by surprise.

Again.

I slipped to the floor. Crumpled. From outside, the sun seemed to taunt me. Pick yourself up, you blackhearted vixen, he seemed to chide. But it was too late. I had been abandoned once more. Another round for them. None for me. And now they were lifting themselves off the floor and dancing their mad dance around me. Closer and closer. Louder and louder. Closer and louder. Louder and closer.