Dies Irae
I wrote this for a prose competition in which I came second...
‘Dies Iræ, Dies Illa’ he intoned gently ‘Solvet sæclum in favilla, teste David cum Sibylla.’ As he walked down the murky, ill-lit street, he felt a sense of purpose, the purpose that only came before the judgement. He could not help but smile as he continued to murmur his holy mission under his breath ‘Quantus tremor est futurus, quando iudex est venturus, cuncta stricte discussurus!’ he breathed harshly, his pace of foot and voice quickening. He was the judge, and upon his judgement all depended.
As he walked, he saw the latest wretch on the street corner, the latest person who was about to be judged. He walked up to her and whispered in her ear ‘How much?’
‘Depends on what you want’ she replied.
‘Come with me, I know a place we can go’ he said and walked off, sensing her following him. As they walked, silently, she tried to act the part, putting her arm around his waist. He could not help but shudder in revulsion at her touch.
Eventually they reached a small bedsit, immaculately kept. He asked again ‘How much?’
‘For the full works, two hundred’ she said, looking him in the eye.
‘Deal’ he muttered, pulling a wad of notes out of his pocket and handing it to her. ‘But first, I have a question’
‘Go ahead’
‘How many have you had?’
She smiled, she had dealt with this sort of customer before. ‘For you, sweetheart, I can be your first, or I can be the dirtiest whore you’ve ever had’
He nodded and asked ‘Can you hear the wondrous sound? The sound before the throne that you’ve been brought to?’
‘What?’ she asked, confused.
Suddenly, without warning, he lunged and clasped her throat in a vice-like grip. Terrified, she struggled for her life, kicking and punching every inch of him she could find, but he was just too strong. ‘Mors stupebit, et natura, cum resurget creatura, Iudicanti responsura!’ he hissed violently at her, as she started to black out. It would be the last thing she ever heard.
Having carried out the deed, he flung her lifeless body to one side and knelt to pray ‘Rex tremendæ maiestatis, qui salvandos salvas gratis, salva me, fons pietatis. Recordare, Iesu pie, quod sum causa tuæ viæ, ne me perdas illa die.’
He was grateful to be doing His work, judging the sinners of the world. Atoning for sins of the past, he acted as the His final judge on earth. Smiling before he disposed of the body, he thanked Him in his usual way ‘Quærens me, sedisti lassus, redemisti Crucem passus tantus labor non sit cassus.’
‘Dies Iræ, Dies Illa’ he intoned gently ‘Solvet sæclum in favilla, teste David cum Sibylla.’ As he walked down the murky, ill-lit street, he felt a sense of purpose, the purpose that only came before the judgement. He could not help but smile as he continued to murmur his holy mission under his breath ‘Quantus tremor est futurus, quando iudex est venturus, cuncta stricte discussurus!’ he breathed harshly, his pace of foot and voice quickening. He was the judge, and upon his judgement all depended.
As he walked, he saw the latest wretch on the street corner, the latest person who was about to be judged. He walked up to her and whispered in her ear ‘How much?’
‘Depends on what you want’ she replied.
‘Come with me, I know a place we can go’ he said and walked off, sensing her following him. As they walked, silently, she tried to act the part, putting her arm around his waist. He could not help but shudder in revulsion at her touch.
Eventually they reached a small bedsit, immaculately kept. He asked again ‘How much?’
‘For the full works, two hundred’ she said, looking him in the eye.
‘Deal’ he muttered, pulling a wad of notes out of his pocket and handing it to her. ‘But first, I have a question’
‘Go ahead’
‘How many have you had?’
She smiled, she had dealt with this sort of customer before. ‘For you, sweetheart, I can be your first, or I can be the dirtiest whore you’ve ever had’
He nodded and asked ‘Can you hear the wondrous sound? The sound before the throne that you’ve been brought to?’
‘What?’ she asked, confused.
Suddenly, without warning, he lunged and clasped her throat in a vice-like grip. Terrified, she struggled for her life, kicking and punching every inch of him she could find, but he was just too strong. ‘Mors stupebit, et natura, cum resurget creatura, Iudicanti responsura!’ he hissed violently at her, as she started to black out. It would be the last thing she ever heard.
Having carried out the deed, he flung her lifeless body to one side and knelt to pray ‘Rex tremendæ maiestatis, qui salvandos salvas gratis, salva me, fons pietatis. Recordare, Iesu pie, quod sum causa tuæ viæ, ne me perdas illa die.’
He was grateful to be doing His work, judging the sinners of the world. Atoning for sins of the past, he acted as the His final judge on earth. Smiling before he disposed of the body, he thanked Him in his usual way ‘Quærens me, sedisti lassus, redemisti Crucem passus tantus labor non sit cassus.’
Comments
One generally assumes the reader has nothing but English. Only the very obvious is presented without translation ("Bonjour!" she greeted me). Though I see you try to translate by incorporating what is said in the song to what he is doing and thinking for part, the reader may not see that. Instead, he skips over the latin bits with a "Huh?" and you come off looking pretentious.
That said, thanks for sharing your prose. It takes some guts!
Nicely written!