Lacrimosa

P R O L O G U E

'Rome is safe'. That is the first lie you hear. It barely grazes the shell of your ear before dipping inside and nesting somewhere along the aphotic corners of your aching mind.

You barely feel it.

But it plays in your ears like a broken record, even at the moment when you smile at the face of danger.

Rome is safe, Rome is safe, Rome is safe. . .

'It's safer than New York City, Munich, Paris and Barcelona combined', they tell you and you believe them, why would you not? You don't realise the lie hiding beneath the surface until it is too late, until you are lost beyond redemption.

Who can blame you, truly?

You lose yourself to the timeless beauty of the eternal city.

You grow bewitched from the sounds your feet create as they dance over the pavement, bare and uncaring of the dirt as the straps of your heels dangle from your fingers.

You fall in love with the people who dance drunk on the streets of their city, the ones who flirt shamelessly, filling the air with endless strings of lyrical sweet nothings, the ones who kiss under the star studded sky until their flesh sizzles and one cannot be separated from the other without causing irrevocable damage.

You feel your soul abandoning you for those who sing until their lungs bleed and their ribs crack, clutching bottles of beer and wine in their dirt stained hands. The sounds echo on the walls and the skeletons of the buildings tremble. And it's odd, how you can hear their bones breaking clearer than their slurred words.

'Rome is peaceful, especially at night'. The lie continues, melodic and calming as it ought to be. As all lies ought to be.

Peaceful? Rome is never peaceful.

There is always a scream piercing the air, whether it comes from an alley, a busy street or a lonely, flower covered balcony. A wallet stolen, a cell phone lost, bodies entwining and battling for dominance, providing a show as ecstacy overtakes them.

No, Rome is never peaceful.

'Rome is mostly empty at night' Yes, it certainly appears so to the naked eye. No one cares enough to see the ghosts of the dead who once walked those very streets, no one can see the blood drenching the streets like fallen rain.

Of course, It is to be expected in cities with long histories. It happens. And you grow accustomed to it. The dead forget the world does not belong to them anymore. It is so easy to forget in Rome, after all, where the last remnants of greatness are still standing proud, even as they decay.

'Rome is safe' No, it isn't.

Nobody ever warns you of the creatures that lurk behind the elegant cathedrals, the magnificent ruins and the empty villas. No one says a word about the demons that wear skin similar to yours and fill their rotten lungs with air thicker than blood.

Nobody ever warns you of the monsters that hide in plain sight in the dimly lit streets and their voracious appetite.

Nobody ever warns you of their Emperor, the one whose crown has long since fallen off his head, the one who wears the name of a tyrant and wears it with pride. No one says a word about the one who wanders aimlessly in the dusk, searching for his newest victim, his newest addiction.

Beware.

Be wary, my darling, for he comes disguised in the form of a man with pale eyes, a man with a silver tongue that gleams in the moonlight as he makes you promises.

He promises salvation, he promises death.

And he steals your breath with the grace of a God, long buried in the ruins and lost.

No, Rome is not safe, not for your heart or your soul.

Rome isn't pliant nor is it meek.

Rome will never bow before you.

For it only bows before him.

But if you're unfotunate enough, he will.

❁❁

Here it is.

What did you think?

I know it's quite vague but it'll all make sense the second I post the synopsis (I was too impatient to wait, sorry).

Ps. If you enjoyed, don't forget to vote!

Until next time,

Theodorina.