“We the Fates of Three
Call to thee
Cut the string, cut the string”
They chimed together, mirth filling their voices.
“We are the Fates
We are who we are
Cut the string long
And you may just go far”
Their giggles were cast from their throats, long piercing notes ringing in the ears of all who heard them.
What poor luck he had. Would no one read the signs? GO BACK!! They said. DANGER!! They cried. But no one seemed to care. The passerby would take no heed. Old rotten wood, they reasoned, probably worthless now. And on they marched.
Through the thicket.
Through the wood.
Into the forest.
On they would go! On they would walk! Until, they heard the voices. Smooth, caressing voices, like silk. They tickled the ears of the passerby, summoning them closer.
Like a dream they would walk into the cavern. It was so peaceful. Unfortunate fool. He fell into that facsimile dream, that far off fantasy that only heaven could posses.
“I am your past” one fate would smile.
“I am your present” another grinned.
“I am your future” the last would whisper.
“Now cut the string
Cut strong and true
Cut where you please
It’s up to you!”
He stood there, motionless at first. Then slowly reaching out, took the golden scissors from Future’s offering hands.
“Cut it!” they sang together. “Cut it!”
His hand recoiled, as if he were awakening. But before his thoughts could assemble, before he realized, he heard a snap and then a crack. Two perfectly spun threads of silk fell to the floor. Cool water slithered down his brow. He touched his finger tip to his head, and peered with shocked eyes. It was blood.
“It seems you have missed
Poor little soul
You cut to hard
You’ve missed your goal
And now you rest
It’s your time to go
For you have made it
So that it is so”
He reached up further and felt something hard and cold. The scissors.
“And this is where
Our dear, dear friend
You played with fates
And faced your end”