In the small, isolated town of Ainsworth, a haunting legend whispered among the villagers. It told of a mysterious entity that roamed the streets, seeking out the lovelorn and the heartbroken. The creature was known only as the Wraith of the Lost
When Maria’s husband died in a tragic accident, she felt the full weight of despair crushing her spirit. Each day of the week seemed to stretch into an eternity of sorrow. Monday began with a numbness that settled deep into her bones. She wandered through her empty home, touching the cold remnants of a life now devoid of warmth. By Tuesday, hopelessness had seeped into her heart, and she could barely summon the will to rise from her bed.
Wednesday saw her standing in the doorway, arms outstretched as if she could embrace the ghost of the past, but there was nothing but a chilling void. Thursday came, and with it a longing so intense, she felt it might consume her entirely. She waited, praying for a sign, a miracle, or some semblance of love to return to her desolate world.
On Friday night, as the stars twinkled mockingly in the sky, a flicker of defiance ignited within her. She vowed to break free from the shackles of her grief, to burn away the darkness that had engulfed her. Saturday arrived, and with it a wild, feverish energy. She danced around her home, fueled by a desperate need to feel alive once more.
But as night fell, Maria felt an ominous presence. The air grew colder, and shadows seemed to dance along the walls. She remembered the legend of the Wraith of the Lost and a shiver ran down her spine. Ignoring her growing unease, she resolved not to attend the Sunday service, choosing instead to face whatever fate awaited her.
Sunday dawned, and the village church bells tolled mournfully. Maria remained at home, waiting. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the wraith appeared, a spectral figure cloaked in darkness. Its eyes gleamed with a sinister light, reflecting Maria’s anguish.
“Who are you?” Maria whispered, her voice trembling.
The wraith’s voice echoed like a hollow wind. “I am the embodiment of your sorrow, the shadow of your lost love. I come to offer solace, but at a cost.”
Desperate, Maria pleaded, “What must I do?”
The wraith extended a skeletal hand. “Embrace your pain. Let it consume you, and in return, I will reunite you with your beloved, if only for a fleeting moment.”
Maria, her heart aching with longing, reached out and grasped the wraith’s hand. An icy chill surged through her, and her vision blurred. When it cleared, she saw her husband standing before her, his eyes filled with love and sorrow.
They embraced, and for a brief, glorious moment, Maria felt whole again. But as quickly as it had come, the vision faded, leaving her alone once more. The wraith’s laughter echoed in the emptiness, and Maria realized the true cost of her wish. Her spirit, now bound to the wraith, would wander the streets of Ainsworth, forever seeking the love that could never truly return.
And so, each week in Ainsworth, the villagers would speak in hushed tones of the wraith and the woman who danced with despair, waiting for a love that could never come around.
Gareth Ellis - Author 