Echo, the Forest Nymph. Adult (standard:fairy tales, 1445 words)
Author: Oscar A Rat	Added: Jul 22 2020	Views/Reads: 1438/1012	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Long ago and far away, lived a young maiden named Echo. Lovely, smiling, and personable, she had only one failing....

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


Echo lived alone, except for the rat, for many years. The forest did
have various visitors, attracted by her beautiful echoing voice. They 
came from miles around to call out words such as, "Hello. Are you 
there," and to hear "you there," bouncing back. Speaking of simpletons, 
can you imagine yourself doing anything that stupid? 

To get on with the story, one day a rather handsome young prince rode
through the forest. He was on his way to a famous beauty parlor to have 
his hair curled and enjoy a pedicure. 

The youngster was named Narcissus. At home, he was known as a bore's
bore. A handsome bore but, nevertheless ... a bore. He considered 
himself too beautiful to be seen with lesser creatures, such as girls 
or boys. 

Narcissus was, currently, on his way to be prettied up so that gods
would be attracted to his beauty and raise him to Mount Olympus in 
order to further admire him. He was an extremely self-centered young 
prick. 

Narcissus came upon a pretty little cottage in the forest. Being tired
from walking, he never hesitated, going inside and falling asleep on 
Echo's bed. He didn't worry the least about the owner's permission. If 
anything, he figured they'd be honored by such a great man's presence. 

Echo, out washing her clothing in a nearby stream, was surprised to see
Oscar running over to interrupt her. The rat pantomimed someone 
sleeping, pointing an arm in the direction of her home. 

Expecting maybe a visit from her daddy, Echo hurried home, leaving the
rat to finish their washing. 

She was nervous, not having seen a man for years, at least not one as
handsome as Narcissus. It was love at first sight -- or at least 
intense lust -- as she hovered over him, bending down to smell, tongue, 
and gently fondle his sleeping form. Finally, as was inevitable during 
such an intimate occasion, Narcissus awakened. 

Oh! Sorry. I forgot to tell you that time had taken its inevitable
course. Echo wasn't exactly the same luscious morsel she'd been umpteen 
years before. She'd fallen victim to not only a goddess, but Father 
Time. 

Narcissus woke to see an old hag hovering over his beautiful nether
regions, themselves standing at attention. 

He jumped from the bed. "Leave me alone, old woman. I don't want you,"
he screamed. 

Echo bellowed back, voice still sweet, "Want you." She backed up in
fear, almost knocking a table over. 

He screamed, as did she. Pulling his pantaloons up to his knees,
Narcissus hobbled quickly through the door and into the forest. 

Sobbing, Echo followed on her old legs. 

"Go away," he yelled at her, seeing her face in the forest. 

"Go away," she repeated. 

"Why are you following me?" he called a little later. 

"Me," she repeated. 

"Yes. You, you old hag." 

"Old hag." She tried, oh so hard, not to say it, but had no choice. Old
hag, she thought. Yes. She was only an old hag. The years had done 
their damage. 

He ran, soon being lost far from the trail, while she followed, wanting
to see as much of the handsome lad as possible. 

Finally, Narcissus, going mad from days of stumbling through the forest
while trying to elude the old woman, found a clear stream. 

"Water! At last," he whispered to himself, falling to his knees to scoop
up a drink. As the surface cleared again, he saw his own handsome face 
in reflection. Being who he was, he could only stare at the perfect 
vision. He couldn't take his eyes off it. When he blinked, so did that 
lovely male face, with its beautiful blue orbs. 

Narcissus jerked back an inch when another beautiful face, a maiden's,
appeared next to his own. Gods, and goddesses, can be eternally cruel. 
Echo's reflected face was as of many years before, one of the most 
beautiful. 

Narcissus lay for days, not hungry, thirsty though not being able to
force himself to disturb the reflection by drinking. His eyes swept 
constantly from one side to the other, the perfect man and a slightly 
less lovely maiden. 

All thoughts of hunger and thirst were forgotten as Narcissus wasted
away, head falling as death finally disturbed the reflected vision. 

Sighing, Echo rose at the sight of the fractured image. She, too, had
been mesmerized. Crying softly, she returned to her little cottage -- 
to be seen no more. 

Still, though, if you travel to Germany and stand in the Black Forest,
you can hear her dulcet voice, repeating your own words. 

As for Narcissus ... you can still see him in the pretty but equally
useless flower that bears his name.


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