Submitted for the May 2024 prompt: Gothic Sci-Fi

“Gather ye near and listen round,

On All Souls’ Night when nare a sound

Pierces the dark for ye to hear,

Save this tale of post-human fear.

At brink of sea under full moon’s trance,

Bridge to the isle where cyborgs dance,

And only those deemed worthy then

Rejoin the land of the livin’.”

Rapt listeners thronged the smoke-scarred pub

At the station on Ridgeway Hub,

Raised glasses stilled and voices quelled,

Carsulla strained to listen well.

The old bot’s tale was true enough,

Tonight she’d go to Cyborg Bluff

To shed her exoskeleton

And with the sea become as one.

Generations poring bookwormed texts

Could not foresee what happened next.

The moment came, the time was nigh,

To seek the ancient moon-scorched prize.

Finndore saw his commander’s approach,

Certain of treasure he’d soon poach.

Carsulla, as the signs foretold,

Waited as treachery did unfold.

* * *

Amongst a darkened copse of trees

Just downwind of a salt-tinged breeze

They sat beside the waterline

As Finndore, with his view scope, spied.

“There’s nothing here,” he said to her.

“Keep calm,” she said in a whisper.

“Control your thoughts, check your feelings

There’s time yet ‘fore the revealing.”

Remembered words from years long past:

Beware the scaly, star-robed caste

When Verdant Isle no longer sleeps,

There lies a warning buried deep.

Tread lightly with a maiden’s step

And don’t disturb the murky depths.

Heed this tattered old musty tome,

Lest sea becomes your sodden home.

“Finndore please, ye must mark my words!

Stay close when crossing to and fro.”

He nodded but his smile disguised

The brittle falseness in his eyes.

Under opaque veil of milky night,

Dimension hunters watched in quiet.

Foamy water ceased its motion,

When they gazed upon that ocean.

Wondrous alien eyes perceived

The glistening salty waves, weaved

With cracks that mushroomed far and wide,

Cyborg serpents lay side by side.

Beyond, a misty land arose,

Shellcave beckoned on distant shore,

A cove bedecked in silvery light,

Its open maw, a welcome sight.

“I go first,” Carsulla ordered,

And gently crossed the bridge below her.

Piscine sisters of ancient seas

Did not demur ‘neath maiden’s feet.

Metal brothers felt small pressures,

Grunted softly to impress her.

Finndore then, heavier by half,

Tromped along the treacherous path.

Explorers reached the mouth of shells.

In darkened surrounds, torches flared.

Primitive symbols met their eyes;

They bravely sought their worthy prize.

Downward toward cloistered silence trod,

O’er eerie thrones of alien gods,

And softly falling earthy motes

Danced and twinkled along their route.

A tunnel there, ten metres more

And at its end, an oaken door.

The Verne gun, fired from where they stood

Turned barrier to splintered wood.

Torchlight exposed worn praying stones

In a dead monk’s hallowed abode.

A hermit’s home, this pious cell,

A supernatural place to dwell.

Carsulla, tracing dusty marks,

Her fingers questing in the dark,

Puckered grooves etched by long-dead scribes,

Of history’s forgotten tribes.

When the walls revealed their secret,

She knew they’d found the lost relic.

Forged in Cyborg’s past aggressions

Garnet gifts for their possession.

The hidden alcove now revealed

A wooden box, with beeswax seal.

And when they pried the rusty clasp

The sight within drew breathy gasps.

The chest contained a precious hoard

Of coins with Cyborg heads adorned.

Nestled on silver mancus bed

Fine gems shone blue and vibrant red.

* * *

Treasure-laden, both hurried back

To Cyborg’s waiting moonlit path.

Carsulla slipped on jutting stone,

And raw pain pierced her to the bone.

She screamed for help ‘cross wind-swept land

To Finndore, prized trove in his hands.

But her calls were left unheeded;

He had all he’d ever needed.

She let her anguished teardrops flow

To the sea as she watched him go

Then witnessed the traitor’s demise

Just as it had been prophesied.

He took the bridge with heavy steps

Alerting creatures in the depths

That no fair maiden crossed them now.

They grasped his legs and pulled him down.

Carsulla stood, despite the pain

Through the shock, a quiet calmness came

Now less surefooted than before,

She stumbled to the island’s shore.

A gentle swell had offered there

A gift from cyfolk everywhere,

The wooden box with treasures grand,

Restored to maiden’s outstretched hands.

Sobbing abated, she stood tall

And thanked her cyfriends, one and all,

Then Carsulla, worthy maiden,

Rejoined the land of the livin’.

A crusty bot had once foretold

In lands far gone and days of old

About this brave young moon-blessed child

And her bold trip to Cyborg Isle.