美华文学主页
在线情况
楼主
  • 头像
  • 级别
    • 职务总版主
    • 财富7
    • 积分689005
    • 经验148181
    • 文章9466
    • 注册2005-07-12
    [原创]永生的詛咒


    (永生的詛咒)(Adrianus 與 Sabeena)

    (一)           詛咒

    他知道他很快就要死了.

    箭插得很深, 而從經驗, 他知道箭頭是蘸了毒液的.

    他的部下都死光了, 雖然勇猛作戰, 可是他這一伙由百來人組成的小隊難逃在這密林中被殲滅的命運. 不會有援軍. 大軍主力早已在馬其頓國王亞歷山大率領下班師回已闊別十年的故土. 當年, 他只是一名長槍兵, 只十八歲. 十年後, 他二十八歲已是率領一百多人的隊長. 大軍早已把他們當作棄卒, 是保障主力能順利撤離的代價.

    但他不想死. 他Adrianus, 生於底比斯城 仍然年輕, 英偉, 聰明而且對生命中太多事物仍抱好奇心的他渴望可以活下去. 而即使要死, 這也是個令人死也不瞑目鬼地方! 黑得幾乎不見天日, 潮濕得發霉而佈滿蛇虫和使用毒箭的蠻族人. 如果他真的玥死, 他也希望找一可看到太陽, 感覺到它的溫暖, 最好是有好友在旁把他擁抱著的地方, 當然,如果擁抱他的是年個年輕女人就更好. 對啊, 女人! 他沒有女伴多久了? 她們的溫柔, 無與倫比的肉體, 當他向她們造愛時她們發出的呻吟聲…那是他感到生命力量的聲音…

    但是現在他同遭沒有朋友. 他的人都死光了. 在一, 兩天之內就會被吃得只剩下骨頭. 如果蠻族不把他們叮掉, 蛇虫鼠蟻也不會客氣. 而他知道, 自己亦無法倖免.

    他感到喉頭的乾涸. 他的身體有如著了火: 他在發熱. 他多想要喝一杯水, 嘬一口也好, 只要能把這乾裂感覺舒緩一下. 水! 對, 他可以聽到那聲音了: 是一小溪吧. 他已無法步行, 只能爬, 而且是步步為艱地爬. 他知道他很可能就死在那裡, 甚至未到達之前就死掉. 但他仍嘗試; 他無法不這樣.

    他到了那水, 一個混濁的小水潭. 他把雙手浸下去, 看著自他手背上的血化開成為千絲萬縷. 然後他以手代杯掬了些水就喝下去.

    然後他看到她了.

    她正朝他走過來 有生以來, 他第一次知道什麼是恐懼. 她是藍色的. 不, 不是她所軫的衣物, 而是她的皮膚: 藍, 深得幾禾發黑的藍!

    「宙斯, 救我!」

    她站近他, 彎下身來把頭靠近他.

    「你要死, 還是要活?」 她向他笑著說.

    他整個人僵硬著, 不解.

    「你已用屬於我的子民的血污染了我的泉水. 你因這個被詛咒. 我會給你選擇: 較慈悲的是馬上讓你死去, 而可怕的是永遠活下去.」

    他想他是聽錯了. 為什麼死亡會是慈悲, 反而永生是詛咒?

    「我要活!」 他馬上想起了那個男人被天神許以永生卻不停衰老的, 最後變成了一雙隻蚱蜢的故事.

    她搖搖頭, 笑道: 「愚蠢的人. 我會給你想要的. 你會活下去, 而且永遠年輕, 強壯, 令女性無法抗拒. 但有一個條件: 每次你的指甲變成黑色時, 你就要殺了當時和你睡的女人作為獻祭. 記著了. 如果你不依照這話, 你會生不如死. 這個我可以向你保證. 而這詛咒在你獻祭一百個女人及找到世界上最清徹水源前是不會解除的. 」

    他在腦筋一片迷糊中點頭,他想: 我一定是在幻覺中, 這藍色女人不個是我幻覺的一部份吧.  他看到她笑了. 然後她就在他面前消失. 同一時間, 他不再渴了. 他的傷口也不再痛楚, 他的體力完全恢復. 他不藥而癒.

    他已記不起他是如何走出熱帶雨林的了, 也不明白為什麼把他同伴屠殺至盎的蠻人沒有向他襲擊. 當他回復神志時, 他已處身巴比倫城, 而他的主君亞歷山大已死於黃熱病.

    他回到了底比斯, 在那兒住了一會. 他卻一直沒有老去, 更沒有死.
    沒有東西可以危及他的生命: 疾病, 兵器, 火都毫不能傷他. 照理說他是可以成為天下無敵的戰士的. 可是, 他會感到痛, 而且有時是痛得要命. 他不會因饑餓而亡卻依然不得不和平常人一樣不謀三餐之飽. 而要得到食物, 他就必須工作. 而對他而言, 他唯一的野心就是征服女性. 可是他發現他的女人們一個一個的衰老, 死去, 而他卻是永遠如此年青. 這點最初令女人瘋狂愛上他. 可是, 漸漸的, 愛成了狐疑, 狐疑變成恐懼. 他因被認為是受詛咒的人而被孤立, 最後被驅逐.

    他離鄉別井, 遠走他方, 去到沒有人知道他過去的地方暫住下來.

    他去過了他同期的人連聽也沒有聽過的國家, 而他同年的人早已死光了. 他見證了帝國的崛起, 看到它們逐一衰亡. 他經歷過瘟疫, 看見過整座城市埋在火山的溶岩之下, 數以千計的人被巨浪捲走, 整個城市甚至國家毀於兵刀之下. 但他總是存活下來.

    在離開那雨林五十年後他的指甲第一次變黑了. 他把他睡了的女人殺了作訣祭: 那是一個女奴, 對他來說根本不當一回事. 之後, 指甲回復正常.

    又過了一百年, 他和一名愛慕他英俊外表的名妓搭上了. 她是一個很美麗的女人. 當他的指甲變黑時, 他試圖無視, 卻發現他的手指像被火燒著一樣痛苦蝕骨無法抵受. 他把尖叫中的女人扼殺了, 他的手指才回到平常一樣. 這是他第一次懷疑自己是否在當時選擇錯了.

    但已沒法回頭再選一次.

    由於他長生不老, 他可以積累鉅大的知識: 話言, 歷史, 科學, 哪怕是任何學科, 他最後都可成為權威. 他現在已知道那個給你永生邢又不斷折磨他的是誰了: 興都教中掌管時間及死亡的卡利女神!

    他活下去, 再不敢與任何女性建立長久的關係. 原因是他知道她有一天會死, 如不是自然死亡就是當他看到指頭發黑時要把她扼殺. 休試圖獨身, 可是那詛咒卻同時把無法抑止的強烈肉慾注入他體內. 他需要撫摸到女人柔滑的身體, 需要她們的吻, 她們對他的崇拜, 即使他知道她們在把生命玩火, 有一天可能惹火1焚身.

    他從不會因他犯下的殺人罪而被捕. 他殺了女人在不久就化為烏有, 連一根骨頭甚至毛髮也不會留下.  沒有屍體, 就沒有人能指控他.

    在以後的幾個世紀中, 死於他手的女人不少: 以手扼斃, 用劍, 斧頭, 斷頭台, 槍械. 他數過了: 七十四. 這數字是直至見前為止的. 今年是2015年.

    (二)             Sabeena

    當第一次見到她, 他就知道麻煩大了.
    在過往五年中, 他是安德倫.史密夫教授(Professor Adrian Smith) (他因應時代進步把他的名字由Adrianus改成了合潮流的Adrian.), 是德里大學的歷史系中最年輕, 最英俊而又最富學識的教授. 他比任何人對歷史都了解. 其他人是研究歷史. 他卻親歷其事.

    她的名字叫Sabeena, 印度血統的女生, 二十一歲, 有一頭烏亮黑髮, 大大的褐色眼睛, 絕對可以與任何選美冠軍一較高下的身裁以及天使的面孔. 但這不是最重要的. 令他神魂顫倒的是她眼中那明亮有如高山中從未受污染的處女湖, 反映出她內在的純潔靈魂.

    她是他的學生---他最好的一個. 當他授課時他可以察覺到她眼中智慧的火焰, 她提問的問題從來不會無的放矢, 每當她明白他說的事情時, 她會輕輕頷首. 在這些之外, 他更看到另外的東西: 欣賞和愛慕. 這個令他膽戰心驚.

    他對她強作嚴厲, 對她的功課挑骨頭, 希望以傷害她而使她自動遠離. 他寧願傷她的心, 總比要把她肉體毀滅好. 但一切徒勞: 她不放棄, 而他也無法真的希望她放棄. 他知道劫數難逃.

    他讓她到他的宿舍, 與她談論哲學, 文學, 或任何她提出的科目. 他們剪燭長談達旦. 然後, 他們約會了. 之後就是接吻, 造愛.

    在第二天早上, 他發現他的指甲開始變黑

    「不!」 他向空洞的房間狂號: 「不, 不要是她!」

    在空空如也的房間中響起了陰沉的笑聲. 「你有三十天. 」他聽到那聲音說.

    他幾乎瘋了. 如果他可以從他在十二樓的宿舍一躍而下結束生命, 他會毫不猶疑這樣做. 可是他知道即使如此他也死不了.  他只會劇痛, 而他的指頭會像著了火.

    他翻看了所有的資料, 古藉, 科學的, 魔法的, 去找一個可解除詛咒的方法. 他失敗了. 根本沒有. 而在這期間, 他的手指甲已越來越黑.

    在絕望中, 他向她坦白了.

    起初, 她當然不會相信. 但他向她證明他沒有說謊. 他用一柄斬骨刀向手臂斬下. 她尖叫出來. 可是隨著她看到他是極為痛苦卻絲毫無損.  接著他把手放入烘烘烈火中, 結果一樣.

    「快逃吧! 保命啊!」od2yu 9.

    她拒絕了. 她知道他是無法忍受接著而來的痛楚的: 他的指頭會像燃燒起來而在他找到她把她殺掉前, 這痛不會消失.

    「那我們找方法和她對拚了.」他說.
    她搖搖頭.
    「我不會讓你死的!」他說.
    「我願意為你而死, 可是這解決不了問題. 他仍要殺另外二十五人才可以解去詛咒. 你想這樣嗎?」
    他搖頭.

    「也許我們去找法師, 向更強大的神祉求衪幫助對抗卡利!」
    「不要這樣. 這只會令卡利女神憤怒. 我們只是凡人, 不要以為我們的智慧會比女神高, 或我們的力量更強大.」

    她把他帶到了她出生的村子的神廟中.
    當他看到那神像, 他嚇得魂飛魄散!
    那是卡利女神!

    (三)            獻祭


    「跑啊, Sabeena!」他大叫.
    但Sabeena 挽著他的手臂使他和她一起跪下.
    「強大的卡利女神, 請聆聽我的禱告. 我知道你可以令人們震栗, 但我也知道你的內心可以像母親一樣的柔軟. 就讓我付出獻祭的代價吧.」
    然後他看見她了, 全身黑藍的卡利, 在神壇上走下來.
    「傻孩子, 你真的願意為他死?」 女神問.
    「是,」 Sabeena 淚流滿面, 在她臉上卻沒有恐懼之色.
    「為什麼?」
    「因為我愛她.」
    女神狂笑. 「太偉大了! 但你的死仍解不了詛咒, 即使我也不能為你而食言.」


    Sabeena 點頭, 「我知道. 但你是法力無邊的, 卡利, 你掌控生死. 讓我成為這祭品以及未來所有的祭品吧. 讓我在未來的三十五次輪迴中也死於他的手裡. 我只求你讓我每次都是無父無母的棄嬰, 不讓父母傷心.」

    Adrian 聽得啞口無言.

    連女神也覺得意外了.

    「你願意為他一次一次地死去? 你知否每次你遇到他, 你們只能在一起三十天?」
    「是.」
    Adrian 正要異議, 但女神已舉起一手阻止他說下去.
    「好吧!」 女神宣佈: 「去死吧!」

    他殺了她, 在馬德里的一間酒店內, 那時, 海明威正在樓下的酒巴高談闊論.

    他殺了她, 在她從亞曼尼亞被押至巴勒斯坦路途上,; 穿著土耳其軍服的他與她這愛後一槍打進她的後心.

    他把她送上了斷頭台.

    他把她送上了火刑架.

    他在鬥士場中殺了她; 她是一名女奴, 被人強迫穿上女鬥士的盔甲拿起武器走進場中被屠殺…

    他殺了她; 把她從海盜船拋入海中餵了鯊魚

    他殺了她, 一次又一次.

    他殺了她, 感到他的痛苦, 她的痛苦, 認識她的人所感受到的痛苦. 他感到以往被他殺死的人的痛苦, 繼而是所有在歷史長河中被不同人殺害的人的痛苦. 他感到因殘忍, 傲慢, 貪婪, 與偏激…被征服及痠害者的哀號, 勝利者淺薄的歡呼, 曾稱可以萬世不墜的宮殿與寺廟成為瓦礫.

    但他也發覺有些令他不解的地方: 事件的順序倒轉了.

    然後, 一切終止.

    他這在那混濁水潭之旁, 身上是亞歷山大遠征軍的盔甲. 只有兩件事與當年不同: 他身上沒有箭傷, 而Sabeena 就站在他的旁邊.
    「什麼發生了?」 他大惑不解.

    「你已殺了她二十六次了.」 女神說.

    「但, 我們是倒時光而行…」

    女神微笑說: 「當然啦, 你忘了我是誰嗎? 我掌管死亡與時間. 而時間不是單向的. 詛咒已解除了.」

    Adrian 呆了. 他抓著Sabeena的手, 不敢相信這是真的.

    「但…那世上最純淨的水…?」 他記得那詛咒及解咒的條件.

    女神大笑: 「你已找到了, 在你的臉上.」

    「什麼?」

    「你因後悔與慈悲淌下的淚水. 它們就是世上最純潔的水. 現在, 去吧.」

    「去? 去哪裡?」 Adrian 仍是不知所措.

    「當然是去上課咯, 教授. 我會再找你們的, 五十年後吧.」

    接著, 潭水消失了, 雨林消失了. 一對戀人手牽手站在那裡, 面對大學的教學大樓.

    (完)



    美华文学论坛感谢您的参与
    在线情况
    2
    • 头像
    • 级别
      • 职务论坛版主
      • 财富2
      • 积分251927
      • 经验51005
      • 文章4400
      • 注册2010-12-29
      可能是翻译的原因吧,读得比较辛苦。可能你太忙了,保重。
      美华文学论坛感谢您的参与
      在线情况
      3
      • 头像
      • 级别
        • 职务总版主
        • 财富7
        • 积分689005
        • 经验148181
        • 文章9466
        • 注册2005-07-12
        謝謝文東.

        可能你說得對的. 這是英文原版本:


        Adrianus and Sabeena

        (1)

        The Curse

        He knew he was dying.

        The wound was too deep and through experience, he knew the arrows were always poisoned.

        His men had all died. Though they had fought bravely, it was only a matter of time that his tiny contingent of a hundred would be wiped out in this dense jungle. He knew there would be no relief force.  The main army had started its way back, led by Alexander, towards Macedonia which they had not seen for the past ten years.  He was eighteen then, a common hoplite.  Ten years later, at twenty-eight, he was in command of a hundred men; a hundred dead men now.  The rest of the army had forgotten about them, given them up as lost, an affordable price to ensure the rest could disengage safely for orderly retreat.

        But he did not want to die.  He, Adrianus, born in Thebes, still young, good-looking, intelligent, so full of life and hungry to know the wonders of life, wanted to live.  And this was the most unenviable place to die anyway, this dark, damp hell crawling with reptiles and savages armed with poisonous darts and arrows.  If he were to die, he would choose a place where he could at least have a last look at the sun, felt its warmth and if possible, in the arms of a friend, or better still, a woman.  Yes, a woman!  How long had he been away from the company of women: their tenderness, their sublime body, the moaning under him when he made love to them, a sound that made him feel alive…

        There was no friend.  All his men were dead.  They would all be reduced to skeletons in a day or two.  If the savages did not get them for meals, the reptiles and the ants would do the job.  And he knew, he would soon be one like them.

        He felt the parching thirst at his throat.  His body seemed on fire: fever.  He wanted a drink, a sip, anything that could quench his thirst, even just a little bit.  Water!  Yes, he could hear the sound now: s stream perhaps.  He could no longer walk; could only crawl, and this he did, painfully, laboriously.  He knew he would probably die there, or die even before he got there.  But he tried, he must.

        He reached the water, a small murky pool.  He dipped his hands in it, saw the blood on his palms dissolve into filaments of brown before disappearing into the absorbing green.  He used his hands as a cup and drank.

        Then, he saw her.

        She was walking towards him.  And for the first time in his life, he knew what fear meant.  She was blue.  No, not her dress, but her skin; blue, deep, dark blue.

        “Zeus! Save me!” He prayed.

        She was standing by him now and bent her head towards him.

        “Do you wish to live or to die?” She said, smiling.  

        He froze, in terror, uncomprehending.

        “You have tarnished my pool by the blood of my people.  For that you are cursed.  I will give you two choices: a merciful one, death and a terrible fate: live forever.”

        He thought he must have mistaken her.  Why was death a merciful choice? And immortality a curse?

        “I want to live!” Then he remembered the story about a man granted immortality but steadily grew older and older until he was turned into a grasshopper.

        She shook her head and smiled.  “Foolish one.  I will grant you what you wish.  You shall live and also stay young, young and strong and irresistible to women. On one condition: you must sacrifice the woman whom you are sleeping with to me every time your finger-nails turn black.  Remember that!  If you ever fail, you will wish you have never been born.  That, I promise you.  And the curse will not be lifted until you have sacrificed me one hundred such chosen women and finding the purest water in the world.”

        He nodded, half-thinking he was just hallucinating; that this bluish female thing was nothing but his imagination.  He saw her smile.  And then she was gone.   And he found he was no longer thirsty, his wound no longer hurt, his strength had returned.  He was healed.

        He could not remember how he walked out of the jungle, why the savages who had massacred his men did not attack him.  When he regained his mind, he was already in the city of Babylon and learned his king, Alexander, had died of a fever.

        He went back to his Thebes, lived for a while.  And he did not grow old, nor die.
        Nothing could touch him: disease, blade, fire.  He could become an invincible and indestructible warrior except that he could still feel pain, intense pain at times. He would not die of hunger but he could still starve and he must eat like everyone else.  And to get food, he must find work, any kind of work. For that, he harbored no great ambition other than the conquest of women, all of whom grew old and died in time while he was still in the prime of youth.  The women loved him, at first.  Then, the love turned to suspicion and suspicion turned to fear.  He was ostracized, chased away as being unnatural, cursed.

        He left his home-city, wandered incognito.  

        He traveled to places unheard by his peers who had now long since died. He witnessed the rise of empires and their fall.  He saw horror of plagues, destruction of whole city by the ashes of a volcano, the carrying off of thousands by mountain height tidal waves, wholesale massacre of cities, nations… Yet he survived.

        And fifty years after he left that jungle, his finger-nails turned black the first time.  He sacrificed her, a mere slave-girl who meant nothing to him.  The nails returned to normal.

        Another hundred years passed and he was bedding a courtesan who fell in love with his good-looks.  She was a very beautiful woman.  When he saw his finger-nails turned black, he tried to disregard it, only to beg for mercy as he felt all his fingers on fire, eating him to the bones.  He strangled the screaming woman and the fingers cooled.  For the first time after gaining his immortality, he wondered if he had made the right choice.

        But there was no turning back.

        As he could live perpetually, he amassed great knowledge: in languages, history, science, any subject he could lay hands on.  By now, he knew the identity of the one who saved him from death and gave him this torment: Kali, the Hindu goddess of Time and Death!  

        He lived on, dared not develop any serious relationship with any woman as he knew she would die one day, either by natural cause or by his constricting hands if he saw color changing of his nails.  He had tried to be celibate but the curse had also implanted in him a fire of lust he could not keep suppressed.  He needed to feel the bodies of women, their kisses, their adoration even he knew they were running the risk of dying in his hands.

        He never got caught.  The bodies of the victims simply vanished after the killing was done.  No bodies, no charges could be brought forward and no conviction, of course.

        Over the centuries, he ended the lives of many women, by his hands, by swords, axes, guillotines, firearms…  He had counted: seventy four. That is the figure until now, the Year 2014.

        (2)

        Sabeena

        He knew he was in trouble when he saw her.
        For the past five years, he was Professor Adrian Smith(he changed his name as he thought the ancient name Adrianus was a bit out of date ) of History in the University of Delhi, the youngest, most handsome and highly learned professor of the campus. He knew history better than anyone.  The others read about it.  He had lived it.
        Her name was Sabeena, Indian, twenty-one, had lush raven black hair, large brown eyes, a figure that could compete with any beauty-queen and the face of an angel.
        But these were not important.  What drew him to her were her eyes, limpid as the virgin lakes in the high mountains, unpolluted, crystal clean, reflecting an equally clean soul.
        She was one of his students, the best one.  He could see the fire of intelligence dancing in her eyes when she listened to his lectures, asked the most sensible questions and nodded in comprehension.  There was something more he saw: admiration, and love. Through their lines of sight, their souls connected.  And it made him tremble.
        He tried to appear harsh to her, being picky with her work, hurt her so that she would leave him in anger.  He would rather break her heart than see her dead body.  
        But it was all in vain.  She did not leave.  He could not let her leave.  He knew they were doomed.
        He allowed her to visit him, talked about philosophy, history, literature or any subject she might raise.  They talked into the small hours.  Then, they dated.  Then, they kissed.  Then, they made love.
        And the next morning, he noticed his finger-nails were changing color.
        “No!” H shouted into the empty room. “Not her! Please!”
        There was a hollow laugh from the empty room. “You have thirty days.” He heard the voice.
        He thought he was going mad.  If he could end this by throwing himself out of the window from his twelve floor apartment, he would have done so.  But he knew.  It would not kill him.  He would survive; suffered horrible pain and his fingers would feel on fire.
        He looked through every available source, both scientific and occult, trying to find a way to lift the curse.  He failed.  There was none.  Meanwhile, his finger-nails’ blackness deepened.
        With despair, he confessed to her.
        She did not believe him at first, naturally.  He proved it to her, by bringing down a cleaver on his arm.  She screamed but then was stunned to see that though he felt the pain, his arm was unscathed.  He put it into fire.  Same result.
        “Leave me! Run for your life!” he said.
        She refused.  She knew he could not stand the consequent pain; his fingers would burn until he found her and killed her.
        “Let us find a way to fight this,” He said.
        She shook her head.
        “I am not going to let you die!” he said.
        “I am willing to die for you but it would not solve anything.  You still have to kill another twenty-five to end the curse.  Do you want to do that?”
        He shook his head.  
        “May be we can go to a witch, pray to a different and more powerful god for protection.” He suggested.
        “Do not do this.  You will only make Kali angry.  We are just puny humans and can never outwit or fight against a goddess.” She said.
        Instead, she took him to her village, to a shrine.
        When he saw the statue in front of him, he froze in terror.
        It was the statue of Kali!

        (3)

        The Sacrifice

        “Run! Sabeena!” He shouted.
        But Sabeena held his arm and made him kneel beside her.
        “Might Kali, hear my prayer. Have mercy on us. I know you can strike terror into hearts of men but you also have the tender heart of a mother. Lift the curse from him, I humbly beg you.  Let me pay the price of sacrifice.”
        Then, he saw her, Kali, walking down from the altar in all her dark glory.
        “Silly girl! Are you really willing to die for him? “The goddess asked.
        “Yes,” Sabeena did not look frightened seeing the goddess of Death though tears were running down her face.
        “Why?”
        “Because I love him.”
        The goddess laughed. “How noble! But your death alone would not lift the curse.  And even I cannot go back on my words.”
        Sabeena nodded. “I know. But you are powerful, Mighty Kali and you control life and death.  Let me be this sacrifice and all the further sacrifices needed to free him. Let me be reincarnated over and over again, meet him in the next twenty five lives and die by his hands.  I only implore you to let me be born an abandoned child so as to spare my parents the agony of losing their daughter.”
        Adrian was speechless.
        Even the goddess was surprised.
        “You are willing to die for him again and again?  Do you realize that for every life, you would be allowed to be with him only for thirty days?”
        “Yes.”
        Adrian was about to object but the goddess raised up one of her many hands, stopping him.
        “So be it,” The goddess announced. “And now, die!”

        And he killed her, in a hotel room in Madrid when Hemmingway was boasting his stories in the salon below.

        He killed her, shot her in the back on the way from Armenia to Palestine, after making love to her in his Turkish uniform.

        He killed her by sending her up the guillotine.

        He killed her by sending her to a stake as a witch.

        He killed her by vanquishing her in the arena, he a gladiator, her, a slave girl put inside a leather armor and given a sword.

        He killed her by throwing her overboard from a corsair vessel, after enjoying her body.

        He killed her again, and again, and again.

        He killed her and felt his pain, her pain, the pain of those who knew her, the pain of the people all around, the pain of all the others he had killed, the pain of others whose deaths were caused by other people in all these three thousand years, the horror and grief caused by cruelty, vanity, greed and intolerance…the cries of the vanquished and the slain, the hollow laughs of victors, the crumbling sound of palaces and temples once thought to be able to stand the ravish of time…

        But he noticed something was wrong: the chronological order of the killings.

        And then, it all stopped.

        He was at the pond, with its murky green water, a captain in Alexander’s army.  The only two things different was that there was no poisoned arrow buried in his chest and that Sabeena was standing beside him.

        “What had happened? “He was bewildered.

        “You have killed her twenty six times already.” The goddess said.

        “But we were going backwards in time…”

        The goddess smiled. “Of course. Have you forgotten who I am? I controlled Death and Time.  And Time is not linear.  The curse is lifted.”

        Adrian was stunned.  He caught hold of Sabeena’s hand and could not believe this to be true.

        “But…but what about the purest water in the world?” He remembered the curse and the condition of its lifting.

        The goddess laughed. “It is found, on your face.”

        “What?”

        “Your tears, of remorse and compassion.  They are the purest form of water you can find in this universe. Now go.”

        “Go? Where?” Adrian or Adrianus was at a loss.

        “To class, of course, Professor.” The goddess said and turned. “I will meet you both again, in around fifty years time.”

        And the pool was gone; the jungle was gone.  Before the pair of lovers stood the buildings of the university and an azure blue sky in the summer of 2014.

        (End)




        美华文学论坛感谢您的参与
        在线情况
        4
        • 头像
        • 级别
          • 财富2
          • 积分182598
          • 经验25063
          • 文章1657
          • 注册2007-04-29
          我相信永生是一个诅咒。
          岁岁重阳,今又重阳。
          在线情况
          5
          • 头像
          • 级别
            • 积分14050
            • 经验3603
            • 文章254
            • 注册2016-07-10

            何其热血的抖M!

            牺牲的动机是什么?伟大纯洁的爱情?还是偏执疯狂的占有欲?或者,两者其实是一回事?显然,无论女主牺牲与否,男主都要杀25次爱人,区别仅仅在于:是杀25个不同的爱人,还是杀同一个爱人25次。

            或许,这并不重要。重要的是,女主嗜虐的本性得到了充分的满足,在各个时代,以各种身份,被各种手段,反反复复惨遭虐杀,这才是关键,也是此作的快感所在。从某种意义上来说,这篇作品可谓是集抖M传统之大成。

            拜读了数篇大作,似乎除极个别篇目之外,大都具有几点共性:
            一、女主角很漂亮。
            二、女主角怀有某种极其崇高的动机,或是爱情,或是自由,民族大义、民主共和、社会进步、世界和平,诸如此类,只要很崇高便是了。
            三、为了实现崇高的目标,她自愿乃至是主动遭受各种SM和杀戮。

            对于这种特殊的抖M题材,许多“正常向读者”应该很难接受。但如果用心理考古的眼光来看,却也不难发现其源头。

            事实上,这些古今中外的超抖M圣女都有着共同的原型,即——上古农业祭典中的女性牺牲品。为了土地的丰饶和族群的昌盛(这是原始社会最崇高的价值),这些美丽的女子被当作祭品献给地母(她们中绝大多数都是自愿的),在全族人面前被一干男人先奸后杀,死后通常还会被分尸,尸块被埋入土地或由全族人分而食之。真可谓惨烈之至,同时,也快意到了极点。不仅是虐杀者,被杀者同样享受到了极大的快感,这种物我消融的大快意正来自于集体仪式的崇高性,其实质乃是集体对于个体的消融。在这种普遍流行于各民族童年时期的神圣仪式当中,美貌、崇高和虐杀结成了原初的三位一体,并作为积层长存于人类的潜意识中。

            正如Freud所言,所谓hentai,无非是classic的一种,而且通常是很老很老的那种。
            美华文学论坛感谢您的参与
            在线情况
            6
            • 头像
            • 级别
              • 职务总版主
              • 财富7
              • 积分689005
              • 经验148181
              • 文章9466
              • 注册2005-07-12
              其實這小說是應一位美國朋友提出的條件編成的.

              他有一個很久沒有解決的難題(只是想像的, 不是事實):

              1, 一個人得罪了一個女神, 她給你兩個選擇: 死亡或被迫不停殺戮的永生
              2. 如他選擇永生, 這詛咒直至完成是無法破解的.(即使女神本身也解不了)
              3.如果他不執行, 他會生不如死.(卻死不了)
              4. 他愛上了一個女生, 而她被選作下一個犧牲者.

              他應殺了女生? 反抗? 央求另一更強大的神衹?

              他百思不得解決方法, 於是就向我提出, 希望我可以替他解決這paradox.

              我接受了他的挑戰, 想了三天, 這故事就是我給他的答案.
              美华文学论坛感谢您的参与
              在线情况
              7
              • 头像
              • 级别
                • 职务总版主
                • 财富7
                • 积分689005
                • 经验148181
                • 文章9466
                • 注册2005-07-12
                至於: 许多“正常向读者”应该很难接受。...小土豆向來只依自己的感覺寫作, 讀者欣賞, 當然開心, 不接受, 聽隨尊便.

                謝謝你的評賞.
                美华文学论坛感谢您的参与
                loading...
                loading...
                loading...
                loading...
                loading...
                loading...
                loading...
                回复帖子 注意: *为必填项
                *验证信息 用户名 密码 注册新用户
                *帖子名称
                内容(最大25K)




                其它选项 Alt+S快速提交
                 


                Powered by LeadBBS 9.2 .
                Page created in 0.2190 seconds with 6 queries.