The Angel: A Christmas Ghost Story

After what seemed like an eternity, words began tumbling out of Thomas' mouth again: "Aurelia, I...I can't make any excuse for myself. Life is short; I've always known that, but this last year I've only become more miserably certain of it than ever. Since I lost you I've done what little I can to feel even a millionth of the happiness I would have known if you had lived, knowing that even that little bit could be gone in a day.

"If that's wrong, then I'll accept the judgment for it when my time comes. And I won't lie now and tell you that I wouldn't do the same things all over again. But if I'd suspected for an instant you were anywhere waiting for me, nothing and no one on Earth could have stopped me from coming to you. You know that."

At first Aurelia stayed so still that, beneath the sterling whiteness of her dress, she might have been a statue. Then she turned and said:

"She means nothing to you, right?"

Licking his lips Thomas said, "Yes," even though in his heart he knew that wasn't entirely true.

"Nothing matters to you except for our love?"

"Absolutely," Thomas said, this time more sincerely. That seemed good enough for Aurelia, who nodded and pulled her veil back, letting the firelight dance in her dark eyes.

"Then come to me," she said, putting her arms out for him. Standing, Thomas swept her up and carried her to the bed, where she flung herself around his neck and smothered him with kisses so desperate and hard that he already felt his heart breaking.

He buried his face in the side of her neck, kissing the spot where it curved into her shoulder. Aurelia was already trying to pull her wedding dress off, and when she tore away part of it he cupped her small breasts with both hands and felt her nipples against his palms. Her heart beat underneath his palm, and Thomas felt her shake from head to toe.

The bed groaned as he climbed on top of her and seized the headboard, overcome with the urgency of the moment. She gasped and cried out "Thomas!" just once as he pushed her legs apart. And then, "Oh yes, yes, my darling, finally..."

With impatient fingers she tugged at his trousers. "I've missed you so much," she said. "I can't wait. Now, Thomas, please now." And then she swallowed his mouth with a deep and hungry kiss, even as she reached down and pulled out his hard and swollen prick and pressed him into her.

Taking a deep breath and holding it he slid in, the tip first and then the rest one inch at a time. Aurelia's little body clenched tight around him, and he pressed her deep into the bed with hard kisses and soft touches. Every movement of their bodies together sent shivers through him. He thrust deeper into her and she moaned: "Oh god. Please..."

His hands roamed across her, pulling aside faded lace to get closer to pale, desperate flesh, reliving the slope of her back, the curve of her hips, and the firmness of her breasts.

"Oh please..."

He pinched her swollen nipples and then pressed one to his mouth. She shuddered through and through, writhing underneath him as he thrust frantically and furiously, the old bed straining to bear their exertion.

"Please!"

He felt wetness dribbling down the inside of her thighs. She was sopping wet in a way that was almost obscene, and he was buried all the way in it, moving in a tight circular motion and grinding his body underneath hers. He was covered in sweat, his hair damp, but she looked perfect and unperturbed, glistening with light instead of perspiration.

"Thomas, darling, send me to heaven..."

And then suddenly she rose up, grabbing him and pulling him down with a strength that took him off guard. He tried to sit up but she pushed him back down again. "Stay right there," she said again. "Let me feel you."

She pushed down on top of him until they came together again and then back and forth on him, her fingers digging into his bare shoulders. Thomas cupped her breasts and squeezed them as she rode, then sat up to lick a wet circle around one nipple. She gasped, and he did it again with the other. Then she wiggled her hips back and forth, and braced herself against the wall to push down on him harder. He sucked one breast all the way into his mouth.

Aurelia pushed back and forth on him, riding his body with intense and free abandon. She'd never been like this before; neither had he, he realized. Even after he felt himself finish, bursting with a wet, hot gush inside of her body, she didn't let him stop, pushing him down again and continuing to ride, her pale body pinning his down and her kisses growing harder and more insistent, as if she meant to devour him with them.

Only when he begged complete exhaustion did she stop, and even then she seemed coiled and read as she lay at his side, as if always waiting for something. Troubled and anxious, Thomas tried not to think about what.

On the verge of delirious sleep, he stirred at a sound from far away. Sitting up, he shrugged Aurelia's protesting hands off his arms and said, "The church bells!"

"It's just the wind."

"It's the bells in town. It's Christmas Morning."

"It's not," said Aurelia. The fire seemed to have burned away, leaving them in the dark with the curtains drawn. And then she said, "Thomas, come with me."

All of his hairs stood on end. "Come...where?"

"Does it matter?" said Aurelia, drawing herself around him tighter. Her body felt strange now, although he couldn't quite say why. "Wherever it is, we'll be together. Isn't that what you really want?"

"It is," said Thomas. "But...something isn't right. You're dead, Aurelia. I know by some miracle that you're here right now, but that doesn't change it: You're dead and I'm not."

"So what?" she said, and clung to him again. "Why should that matter? Why should anything matter? Come with me, darling. Be mine. Forever..."

Forcefully, Thomas stood up. The haze of a waking dream broke like ice. He backed away, "It's morning," he said again, somewhat dumb. "They'll be looking for me." He dressed himself hastily, with fingers shaking.

"Come away...." said Aurelia.

"No."

"Come way..." She whispered, and the cold, ruthless hunger in her voice made his stomach drop.

Thomas backed into the wall. Looking like a black shape against a blacker void, Aurelia closed in on him. "You promised you'd be mine forever. It was our wedding vow."

Her dress rustled in the dark as she reached out for him. Thomas flinched, anticipating the dreaded touch of cold fingers...

And then a light so bright that he had to look away filled the room. Aurelia gasped.

When he felt he could risk a glance, Thomas was amazed to see a woman in a gray robe and hood standing in the doorway, holding up a lantern as bright as the sun. She'd covered it slightly with her hand, but even now it left dazzled spots in Thomas' eyes. And the woman seemed to nod at him, although the movement was so slight it might not have happened at all.

Then she said, "You shouldn't be here."

Thomas stammered. "I...I didn't..."

But it was Aurelia who answered: "It's not fair," she said. Her voice sounded like the rustling of dry branches.

"It's time," said the woman with the lantern. "Come away."

"Thomas, don't let her take me again!" Aurelia said, trying to grab onto his arm. She'd covered her face now by lowering her veil, but when she reached out for him he saw her hands: those bony, grasping fingers...

Thomas ran. He didn't stop running until he was out of the house, falling in the snow and picking himself up and running again, plowing a crazed and uneven path that stopped only when he slipped and fell to his hands and knees again, his ragged breaths punishing his lungs with every gulp of frigid morning air.

Whipping his head around, he expected to see a woman in a faded and decayed wedding gown following after him, maybe even set to catch up now that he'd stopped. A scream had welled up in his throat already...

But nothing was there.

The morning light on the fresh snow made his eyes hurt (or so he imagined, already willing himself to think that the vision of the lantern as bright somehow hadn't happened and something else could account for him being here now), but he could see well enough to know that he was entirely alone.

And then, for a heart-stopping second, as he stood and dusted snow off of himself, Thomas imagined he DID see a woman after all. All the way on the other side of the field, but looking in his direction.

But soon he realized that it was just the statue that stood at the cemetery gates. It had been there for as long as anyone could remember, the gray figure of a woman angel, her face all but covered by the hood of her robe, and holding a lantern over her head.

Father always told Thomas that the Barrow ancestors put it there to light the way to the next world, so that the souls of their departed family would always have a guide to show them the way.

Assuming any of them wanted to go, of course.