Hello Everyone! We are definitely inside the Middle of August, and so, as promised, it's time to bring you another Creepy Samples Offering.
This story, which is entitled Smoke Above le Fourré, will not seem overly creepy at first, but trust me, the creepiness will follow. This story involves a growing love affair between a young priest and a woman with whom he is enchanted in nineteenth-century France. She often camps in a thicket that is not too far from his church, and well, their growing relationship, forbidden by the church, eventually comes to cause him more than his share of grief in a most horrifying manner.
Today's offering starts at the beginning and sets the stage for the unnerving events that eventually follow. Enjoy!
Father Louis Dubois peered out the rectory window into the hilly landscape. There it is once again, he
thought to himself, more smoke arising from le fourré: a rather dense thicket of trees and brush, which appeared in stark contrast to the otherwise grassy terrain.
“She taunts me. She teases me, knowing full well that I cannot attend to her this evening. No, not right now, for I must carry out my godly duties above all else.”
The priest put on his vestments before taking one last look toward the thicket. The sun had just set in
the west, and dusk was taking hold. Still, the smoke emanating from le fourré was still visible. He grunted as he walked out the door and toward the small church where he would conduct a Sunday night service.
Although he conducted Mass every Sunday morning, he held an early evening service for members of the flock, who for various reasons, could not attend church in the morning. He thought about the homily he would deliver, and how to best present it to his congregation.
Father Louis Dubois, a man in his late 30s, sometimes lamented the fact that the diocese had assigned him rector of L' Église de Saint Antoine, which was located near a remote village. Of course, he would accept any assignment given to him as an opportunity to serve God and the faithful; but, since he was still relatively young, he would have preferred a location that could afford him a few more modern amenities and better social opportunities.
***
Father Dubois moved slowly toward the ambo after reading one of the epistles. As he strode slowly
toward the place from which he would deliver his homily, he detected a faint trace of smoke. It did not carry the fragrance of incense, or that from the burning candles, but rather, that of burning wood.
Ah yes! She attempts to tease me even as I stand in this holy place; this house of God. Still, I will focus upon what must be said for the edification of the congregation.
He took his position at the pulpit and gazed down at those who awaited the wisdom he was about to
offer them. With a smile, he began the homily. “Dear friends, today we will discuss the words of Saint
Paul as found in the book of 1 Corinthians.”
The priest found it difficult to concentrate on what must be said, however, as the earthy fragrance
assaulted his mind with visions of her: the one he had stumbled upon one night when his curiosity first brought him to le fourré. She'd been tending to her fire when he arrived at her place in the thicket. There had been something about her—something compelling—something irresistible!
Oh yes, she is of undeniable beauty. And the way her lovely blonde hair gently touches her shoulders...
He realized that the congregation was staring at him, waiting for him to continue.
I didn't even realize that I had stopped speaking. I must concentrate. I must!
Father Dubois struggled through the homily: his mind filled with visions of the one he knew tended to the fire in le fourré—the one who had left an impression upon him that he could not shake. His delivery seemed to last forever. He struggled to convey God's word in the best way he could to the faithful facing him. Finally, he came to the conclusion.
“And so, brothers and sisters, let us always remember Saint Paul's admonishments as found in 1
Corinthians 6:18, that we must flee from sexual immorality. Let us keep in mind that all other sins are
outside the body, but whoever sins sexually, sins against their own body.”
The organ began to play as he stepped away from the pulpit, greatly relieved that the homily had come to an end. The rest of the service came more easily for him as he had led the congregation countless times before. Still, he felt that he simply had to address the source of his distraction, and he needed to do it that very night.
***
“Bonsoir, Louis,” the woman greeted him upon hearing the sound of an approaching horse and rider.
“Bonsoir, Madeleine,” the priest responded as he dismounted.
Taking her eyes off the fire she offered him a smile as he came into the clearing. “I've been expecting you.”
“Madeleine, why do you continue to distract me? Can you not even allow me to conduct service in
peace? The parishioners...”
“Here, Louis,” she cut him off while offering him a seat on the fallen log beside her along with a brass
goblet. “I've brought something to take the chill out of the evening.”
She next held up a bottle of wine. “Pour a lady a glass of wine?” she asked.
“Why, of course!” he responded; his earlier irritation already forgotten.
After partially filling his own goblet, he took his first sip, and savored the warmth of the wine as it
began making its way through his body. There was, at first, a silence between them as they relished in both the effects the wine had begun producing in them, and the crackling of the fire.
“There is a chill in the air this evening,” she informed, finally breaking the quietude. “I am always
grateful for fires such as these.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “And for wine such as this.”
“And the company?” she asked. “Do you find the company warm?”
“Oui, Madeleine; most assuredly.”
She drew closer to him. He could feel the warmth of her body as it touched his own. He also felt a
growing excitement within him.
When I am close to her like this it feels so right. It seems that things are as they should be—that this is God's comfort to men—to all men; even those such as myself. And yet...
“Tell me, Louis. Is it difficult being a man of God? Do you suffer under your vows of celibacy?”
It is as if she knows my every thought. Can there be no secrets kept from this woman?
“There are times when we suffer under the weight of our vows,” he informed her. “But the Lord
rewards us for remaining faithful, and after death, even greater rewards await us.”
She smiled at him almost seductively. He felt a part of his resistance to her charms dissolve with her
glance. Her eyes sparkled in the light of the fire even as they seemed to touch his very soul.
“Some time you must tell me more about your life, mon Pére,” she began while poking a stick into the fire. “I would like to learn how you stay true to your god. Perhaps you can share with me the mysteries of your faith, and I will reciprocate with some of my traditions and knowings.”
“There are some mysteries of which I cannot speak, Madeleine.”
“Yet, there are others of which you can. What else would you speak of when you give your weekly
lectures at mass? Surely you offer the people something.”
“I deliver homilies,” he corrected her with some indignation, “not lectures.”
“Yes, of course, mon Pére. I meant no offense.”
He felt a bit more resistance to her fade when she offered him another knowing smile. She was toying with him, slowly breaking him down, and he knew it. Most importantly, she knew it, for this was her intention.
“Perhaps we can share some of our knowings,” he offered after giving the matter some thought. “There are many things of which I can and should speak. And, I would like to learn more about you as well.”
“Of course you would,” she replied with an air of confidence. “But for tonight, let us refill our goblets
and enjoy the warmth of the wine, the fire, and one another's company. The night is getting cold and you must be anxious to rest from your priestly duties. It is, after all, Sunday, and I would imagine that you are fatigued from the burden of today's duties.”
“Oui, I am indeed.”
He poured the wine into her goblet and felt almost mesmerized by the sound of it filling the goblet—her goblet! Then, he poured his own.
A while later he mounted his horse as she began gathering her own belongings. He turned toward her one more time. “Bonsoir, Madeleine,”
“Bonsoir, Louis,” she responded as she watched him ride into the darkness. “We should meet again
soon.”
Father Dubois felt almost giddy as he rode back toward the rectory. He was warmed, not only by the
wine they had shared, but by her charms as well. As he rode on toward home, his feelings morphed into something else: a sense of deep longing. He already missed her, and hoped that their period of separation would not be of long duration.
Well, there you have it. I hope you all enjoyed this introduction to another story of horror. Since there are only a couple of more tales of length in the book to feature here, I might drag things out for about a month before doing the next offering here. Still, you can be assured that I will. So, until next time, keep it spooky.
Image by K. Kiera
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