I went back over those stories today and really, really noticed everything you pointed out. I'm not even sure I like those stories now...almost like they need to be completely re-written.
Here are two more stories of the same idea, using modern and early language. I really believe I'll become a better writer as I write more; those first posted entries were only my first writing adventures. I believe these two stories that I'm about to post are much more accomplished...of course I'll feel the same about them as I do the previous two in due time.
Here is the modern version;
By Matthew A. Campbell
Every morning I watch her; as she opens her eyes, she’s bathed in the warm glow of the rising sun, her hair sprawled about the pillow like ivy. She stretches her arms out above her head, the morning sun lights up her skin like a heavenly angel. This is the beauty I soak in, each and every morning. She doesn’t notice me gazing upon her. I take in every moment, watching her intimately, admiring every alluring quirk in her face until we must part. The time spent away from her feels distant and cold and I miss her, longing to see her again; she seems so far away.
Her work day ends at five o’clock; I anticipate seeing her again, knowing that the misery induced by her absence will be washed away. When she comes home, the casual business clothing is forgotten, as she resigns to her designer sweat pants and tank top. The comfort of these simple articles relieves her face of the daily stress, renewing her complexion. Her eyes lighten and embrace that same vibrant elegance as they did many hours prior. I watch her hair flowing freely; like a painter’s brush passionately dancing upon a canvas. She’s wearing her headphones, carelessly lost in the music. I sit and watch quietly, smiling at her. She reminds me of the most beautiful landscapes; I’ve never loved anyone this much before.
As the night wears on, I’m given another glimpse of her allure as she indulges in her books and television shows. When she reads I watch her mouth quiver, ever so slightly mouthing the words she’s reading. Her eyes follow along with the story as her mind wanders; her eyelashes, long and dark, flutter as she blinks, like a butterfly calmly resting on a leaf. When she watches television, I listen to her laugh fill the room; it is a joyous, upbeat laugh. Her happiness radiates through me, confirming my feelings for her. She’s the most beautiful when she’s carelessly laughing, not a single concern or worry could be read in her eyes. I realize now, this is love.
Darkness has settled in the night sky as she prepares for bed. Her skin is basked in the moonlight; its glow has painted the white walls and white linens in a deep, blue hue. As her eyes close and the expression on her face comes to rest, I feel myself calm, my heart filled with joy. I lie there thinking of her, imagining her staring back at me as her eyes penetrate mine; her hair framing her face as it caresses the air. She calls my name, telling me she only wants me; these are the thoughts I love most. Sometimes, though, my mind wonders about the thought of losing her, of never seeing her again; these are the thoughts I fear the most.
As the sun rose in the sky this morning I was sitting, watching, like I always do. I never tire of seeing her, of drinking in her beauty. Today I felt different, though. This would be the day that I made our love eternal, to ensure that she knows my love for her, that she’s embraced by my passion. I sat next to her bed as the sun flowed ever so slowly across her face. Her beauty was even more spectacular up close, in person. I had briefly felt its sheer magnitude in passing on the streets, but never have I viewed it this minutely. This morning would be different; I wouldn’t be watching her greeting the morning sun like I had all the mornings before. Not wanting to remember her filled with fear, those panic stricken eyes begging me for mercy, the terrified screams; I let her sleep.
Standing over her I felt myself drift into oblivion, reminiscing of her vivaciousness. I remembered her eyes; they were wild like fire, an angelic blue like the heavens above. How her hair danced through the air, seducing in its gestures. How her lips were soft and full, seeming to move in rhythmic perfection and how her skin radiated like the rays of the sun. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen and I loved her. Never had I felt a love like this before in my life, a love so passionate, so true; I knew she felt it, too.
These memories passed through my mind vividly as I penetrated her skin with the cold, sharp steel. I felt her warmth wash over my hand as the blade caressed her, consecrating our love. I swore to her I’d love her forever; that our love would survive even in death as we became one. I relished in her sweetness as I ingested her love, her beauty contrasted vibrantly against the white sheets; she looked like a crimson princess bathing in a sea of rose petals. In this communion I consumed the flesh, the blood, of an eternal love; she was now mine, forever.
Here is the traditional version;
By Matthew A. Campbell
If there ever were a love so powerful, so pure, so paramount, it would have been that of mine for her. Never have I seen a woman with such exquisite beauty, which filled my mind, my heart, with such divine awe; she was a woman that could cripple me, engulfing my mind in malicious thought by her absence. This overwhelming allure, seductive in its vivaciousness, is what led me to commit such an immense, an atrocious, act of love.
Each morning I would watch her, intently, with the utmost devotion as she woke. Her beauty was christened by the glowing rays of the sun; her face illuminated in gold, its elegance invoking heavenly imagery within my mind. She welcomed the warmth, as it fell upon her soft, pale skin. Her angelic blue eyes would slowly open, filling her with life, with love. I watched her intimately, my gazes falling upon her unnoticed; and though I longed to touch her, to hold her, I dare not interrupt the elegant display. I would stay, watching her, until time allowed me no more. As each morning ended, I promised her my return; I silently swore to her, every minute of my existence and to this I held true.
When the monotony of the day would retire and my endeavors had been completed, I would return to her. On most days, I arrived just as the sun set upon the horizon; the dying, luminous light, cutting streaks through the impending darkness. Although the coming of dusk allowed us little time together, it also granted me the greatest of all sceneries. As the light dwindled from the interior, she would light candles amongst the rooms. The flames would flicker and dance about the walls, their subtle glow casting her delicate features in a radiant, celestial, golden intensity. Her hair, occasionally falling from behind her ears, like that of autumn’s dying leaves, shone in a vibrant, ember glow. Never had I witnessed such charming beauty; she was a spectacle of absolute perfection in creation.
As the hour grew late, she would extinguish the candles before retiring to her chamber. The darkness would cast beyond her as the moonlight’s dull, sullen hue would bathe her in a deep, dark blue. Lying upon the bed, her complexion contrasted against the white linens, creating a scene reminiscent of a fairy tale. I would drink in my last glimpse, as I bid her good night. My nights always ended in misery; watching her fall asleep, the loneliness of the room beckoning to me, her beauty agonizing me. I spent many months following her from dawn till dusk, each day consisting of a love hidden in secrecy, never sharing a moment together, always ending in torment.
It was on that one final night, that I realized the urgency of my disposition; the need then, to make my love known to her, to bind us together, forever. That last, lonely night, would undoubtedly mark the final farewell to my princess; for the following day would bring about the eternity of our love, the death to a love trapped within secrecy.
The following morning I sat, watching her intently; her luminescent glow could not be defined by words, her unearthly allure entranced my mind. She looked more beautiful than she ever had; her complexion radiated immensely and life and love flowed from her very entity. Though I could have previously described the minutest detail of her face, never had I been as near as I was then. Prior to that day, I had only gazed upon her magnificent beauty from afar: through windows, lost amidst crowds, always keeping my distance. Then, in our most intimate moment, I could touch her face, feel her warmth, inhale her scent; everything I had ever wished, ever dreamed of, was coming to fruition.
The sun rose slowly, washing over her face, its warmth flowing over her like a mellow brook. An intense feeling of trepidation rushed through me; my heart pounded with excitement as I awaited our first meeting. My mind raced with wild confusion, unable to conjure a legible sentence or thought. I concurred, then, with my conscience, that my actions shall speak louder than words, that she’ll understand my affection through them; no words could describe my immense feelings for her, I resolute that this would go without misinterpretation.
As she opened her eyes, a look of impending doom, of sheer terror fell about her face, destroying all of her beauty. Her lungs filled with air, intending to relinquish a blood curdling scream, a din of absolute horror. I faltered momentarily, nearly fainting; I soon gathered my wits as I realized the actuality of the moment at hand. In a maddening, virulent reaction, my hands grasped her throat; the strength of a thousand men possessed my will. Her face became stricken with fear; her attempted screams of horror subdued merely to a whimper. I watched as her life-filled complexion fell pale and purplish; her beautiful angelic blue eyes, cast over like a deep, dark abyss, void of life. I held her like that for many minutes until the loving embrace fell cold. As I released my hands from her throat, the last and final breath of life escaped her body.
I stared into her black, sullen eyes as they peered back into mine as she lay there lifeless; her pose mimicking a prodigious caryatid. The cold, empty eyes seemingly rolled about the sockets, never leaving mine, as if she were still alive. I sat looking over her, caressing her hand as I raised it to my face; I kissed her hand, a loving, sincere kiss. I reached into my coat pocket and retrieved my knife; the cold steel felt unwelcoming against the warmth of my hand. From the corner of my eye I saw her, sitting next to me, as alive and spirited as she was just minutes prior. Her hair was flowing in a seductive manner as light shone through it, illuminating her face brightly. Her complexion was pale, complimenting her white gown which also seemed a blinding, vibrant, luminous glow. Although her ghostly embodiment flowed with life, her eyes remained cold and empty; as she laid her hands upon my face, she kissed me, her loving embrace was warm and it was real.
She stared into my eyes; I could hear her speaking to me, though her lips did not move. As I raised the cold, unloving steel, she guided my hand as the blade penetrated her skin, consecrating our love. I felt her warmth run over my fingers, over my hand, as she guided the steel deeper and deeper. Her beauty flowed like a waterfall, contrasting vibrantly against the bright white linens. She looked like a crimson princess, bathing in a sea of rose petals: an angel of sinister seduction.
I watched as she reached within the bosom of her own body, her hands engulfed in the flesh and blood. Her grasp tightened as she tugged violently; her hand pulled from the wound, clenching a repugnant, dripping organ. In her hand she was holding her heart; its deep, crimson hues were accented by dark purplish tones, resembling that of a grotesque bouquet of roses. The once healthy, loving heart, which beat with vivacious vitality, now lay still, devoid of all spirit. I stared into her black, abysmal eyes as she raised it to my mouth. Without hesitation, I began to devour, to ingest the sole embodiment of her desirable love; I committed this with the most hideous and wild of passions. It was in this unholy communion, in which we became one: to live, to die, to suffer, together, forever.
As I sit here, writing this, my love is here with me in this dank, dark, empty cell. She’s always present, never leaving my side, constantly reminding me of her angelic beauty and of the unholy passion that we shared, as I yearn to feel her again. I’ve even grown fond of her deep, hollow eyes; their soulless gaze no longer afflicting guilt or despair upon my soul. Come tomorrow, we shall endure this suffrage no more, to find our love pervading all eternity and I shall once more, hold her, feel her, revel in her warmth; for not even the devil himself, the condemnation of his fiery, burning pits of hell could separate nor perish our love. I will stand upon the gallows in absolute alacrity, begging the executioner to commit me to my ill fate. When life exhausts itself from my very being, as my final, dying breath escapes my lips, I shall live once again with my crimson angel, to peer into her abysmal eyes and embrace her, my True Desire.