Gothic Table Runner Novels & Stories

It was the woman standing gracefully at the head of the table. Lady Cynthia Bathory. Cynthia wore a gown of gossamer silk so dark it looked like woven shadows, her pale shoulders bare, and her hair a shock of blood-red waves that cascaded down her back. Her eyes—a chilling, iridescent violet—were fixed directly on Carmilla.

He arched his perfect brow. He started to walk to the right, and I followed from my position, taking slow, careful strides. The other bloodsuckers cleared the path for me, revealing a table with twelve chairs. Right next to the head chair was a small, cute one, yet it still adopted the gothic taste of the entire place. On the table was a small feast; an array of sweet confections and delicacies. The strawberry syrup dripping on the chocolate cake looked so much like drying blood, and I knew not to touch it even with a fork.

“Where’s Red?” “He set this meeting up for me.” I wave to a chair in front of the lone table. There is only one table in this windowless room that Red uses for all his “talks.” The walls are padded with red velvet, and there’s a well-stocked bar along one wall. The floor is concrete, but under the table is a hand-woven rug that is rumored to be from Versailles during Louis’s reign. There’s not a spot of blood on it, as Red boasts. That says more about the quality of tarping that is used during his talks than anything. Edward scowls at the setup and refuses to move. “You have something that belongs to me, and I want it returned,” he demands.

The moon hung low, its silver light bleeding through the carved lattice of the sanctuary's stone windows. Kai and I crouched beside a table cluttered with enchanted scrolls, glowing rune-slates, and scraps of parchment bearing sigils and blood-bound seals. Around us, the chamber walls bore an intricate tapestry of fate threads of crimson yarn we'd tied between pins and glyphs, creating a web of treachery we'd unraveled for moons.

They all were indifferent to me. Things weren't better in the garden. People were running upside down in a hurry. Some placed chairs and tables, while others decorated the pergola with various flowers and colorful ribbons. The tables were dressed in white embroidered tablecloths while the chairs were also white with a pink bow tied behind them. On the tables there were beautiful vases with various colorful flowers. I decided to return to my bedroom. The more I sat there the greater my panic was.

“It’s me or Asher, and I don’t know what’s going on there but you’re avoiding him like wolfsbane so… yes, I do.” She reached out, brushed a crease from my sleeve, and looped her arm through mine. I nodded once, the knot in my chest drawing tighter—but steadier. And then we stepped through the doors together. The chandeliers above flickered with amber light, reflected a thousandfold in crystal glassware and the polished surface of the long banquet table. Velvet banners of Stormfang black and gold lined the stone columns, and the air was thick with spiced wine and perfume—floral, cloying, meant to dazzle rather than please.

“Oh no! Madame Luna, zat won’t be necessary… please, let me get you one of our best seats in ze house.” “I’ll take the table by the window, two in from the door.” “But madame Luna, zat is nowhere near our best table! Too public. I’m sure you want more privacy?” “That table will be just fine, thank you.” Grabbing a few menus, he glides between tables to a lovely table situated in a window. Cynthia excuses herself back out to the car and we follow him to our seats. The table is a deep mahogany brown with silk napkins. Rose petals litter the table. The glow of the setting sun is masked behind shimmering curtains. It’s lovely. How can this not be one of the nicest tables here?

“No worries, hon. All we ask is for updates on the juicy gossip.” It’s a huge hall filled with expensive-looking decorations. From the massive chandeliers to the blood-red table cloths and what looks like antlers as centerpieces on some tables. An enormous table is raised on a platform filled with different kinds of flowers. The rustic decor projects a medieval style fit for kings and queens. Perfect for royalty.

A few small tables were placed along the walls, but they didn’t have anything on them. However, the table was set up with candles, flowers, a table runner, and rose petals scattered over the runner. There was also a bottle of wine. It looked like it had been set up for a romantic evening. The disarray of the room became unnoticed with the soft glow of the candles lining the rectangular table.

Surrounding the table were several antique chairs, their upholstery worn but well-maintained. On one side of the chamber, a massive tapestry hung from the wall. It depicted a majestic werewolf standing tall under a full moon, its eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. Scenes of battles, rituals, and gatherings were woven into the fabric, illustrating the rich history of the werewolf lineage.