The Cathedral

The Cathedral’s original purpose had been lost to time; all that remained were the legends that surrounded it and the gardens that, wild and untended, gave it a decrepit look.

The Sea Captain built it with his own two hands, it was whispered, though the tales failed to explain how the giant stone blocks could have been moved by any mortal man. He built it, then filled it with the treasures he had found on his travels. Great stories were told of the man who had constructed the towering Gothic church– only to fill it with pretty objects and priceless baubles. No Mass had ever been said in its halls, no bells hung in the tower on the front right corner.

The only thing worshiped in that building was one man’s greed.

He grew old, yet kept searching for more and more to add to his trove, sang the stories. His paranoia grew as his collection did. Traps littered the ground outside the Cathedral, and few dared to see which had survived the test of time.

He never came back from his last trip, the rumors told. But his ghost came home to protect what the hoard. He had had a wife once, but she left him for someone else. His children moved elsewhere. His obsession drowned all other callings.

Set foot in the Cathedral, and the ghost inside will add you to the collection.


A story for The Daily Create 1755, with the prompt:

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