The River

He was petrified, rooted to the place he stood as he gaped breathlessly at the baby murmuring the words of the woman. All along he had been correct; Lilith was a demon, one of the living dead, pocessed by the devil!

 A streak of determination came across him; it was time to be rid of her evil once and for all. With a dash of courage, Lord Moorehouse roughly took the child into his arms, his hands quivering as he hurriedly left the nursey. He carried the child down the mountain of stairs, entering the grand main hall, thrusting open it's great doors.

  Clouds began to cover the moon with their grey veil, the moist humidity making Lord Moorehouse's hair tighten into curls. With each passing moment the clouds began to get more and more bloated with rain, dashing out the stars. With long strides he strolled across the wide green, not looking to the silent child in his arms.

  The trickle of the gushing river was heard, a murmuring gurgle at first, though it grew with each of his large steps. He had finally reached it's winding current, sweeping before him and then curving out of sight. Ominous rocks formed the beaches, jagged and laced with danger.

   In one swift motion, his intentions were complete, tossing Lilith into the raging river. He did not watch or wish to watch, as soon as she left his arms he turned about and rushed back towards his abbey, the first rain drops beginning to fall on his head. A smile tugged at the corner of his thin lips, and he started to laugh hysterically. To the sky, to the earth, to the rain, to the wind. It was over. The demon had been cast into the river and gone!

  The last of his thought repeated a second time in his head. His stomach knotted and some form of sanity returned to him. He had tossed his daughter into the river. Swallowing, he turned, cautiously running toward the river bed.

  By now the rain was falling in great gushes, soaking him wet through. Each drop rippled perfectly in the silver river, sending graceful splashes which melded with the strong current. Not a sign of the child was to be seen.

  His hands tightly balled in fists relaxed, his muscles loosening. Something of a relief and worry filled him, though he cast all thoughts of anxiety from him.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw a snake, thick and black, slither across the water.

The End

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