( Note and links to inspiration: The following story was written for amusement at Halloween. It is IC, in the form of a dream and is also a spoof, having obvious links to movies, tv series and books of a particular genre. These will be listed at the end, as there are quite a few.)
Written in collaboration by the players of Waelden and Yllfa. The banner and all screenshots were taken and edited by the player of Waelden.
Hildfrith, known as ‘Hild’ by most of the folk in the village, had closed the Roaring Dragon a little earlier than usual that night. It was, after all, a night when folk tended to stay indoors. A night where tradition had it, the door between this world and the next was left ajar. Not that any Rohir worthy of the name was afraid to walk out, but even the folk of Bancross could be superstitious at times. Better not risk tempting one’s fate. Better remain at home with family, and remember the ancestors and any friends who had left this world.
So the tavern had only a few clients that evening. They had left early, apart from one man, Grindan, a merchant from the Westfold heading for Aldburg. Brona had gone to her room after helping clear up the few tankards and glasses, and the two bowls of soup that had been ordered. Hild sat up a while longer, taking a few cups of mead herself, while plying the merchant with free ale, to keep the company.
Grindan could hold his drink, but Hild was an expert. She questioned him about family and property, asked him if he liked to make wager on his abilities...all her usual questions. But then he asked about the village. What was it like living there, was it prosperous, was it secure?
“If I am to start trading with Aldburg I will need a room at least in one of the villages near Edoras. Is this a safe and honest place?”
Hild had been able to confirm that, for the most part, it was. But the conversation set her wondering? There had been several new folk arrive in Bancross the past few months. She knew them all by face and name, of course. She made it her business to do so. But she didn’t really know any of them. It occurred to her she should set that lack straight as soon as possible. So when Grindan finally retired to the lodgings in the barn, she wandered to her own bed with plans already forming.
Waelden, Yllfa and Ethel first, was her idea. Those refugees from a burning farm were as near an ordinary family as one could find. They would be no challenge, indeed, she had already found out some things about them through her own daughter’s friendship with Ethel. She liked the family though. There should be more like them …..normal Eorlingas, with farming and trade at heart. It was just a shame that Waelden was no real fighter……
So Hild slept, a deep and dreamless sleep to start with…….
It was dark, and quite chilly as Hild walked down the path towards the house. They were not expecting her, but as a very late thought she had wondered about just dropping in. Waelden and Yllfa may already be asleep. Well, they would surely forgive her, being a woman alone and all, and wanting just a little company on such a night. She was carrying a large wicker basket, filled with three small bowls of the evening’s boar stew. She had even made some fresh dumplings. Maybe they wouldn’t be that hungry, but it was the thought that counted, and the food could be eaten the following day. She had also brought two large apple pies, her own recipe. She knew Ethel enjoyed them!
As Hild continued slowly along the path, drawing near the house, she looked up and noticed something swaying in the wind. From some of the branches of the two mighty ashen trees by the gate, there hung small wooden figurines and charms made out of twigs and straw, tied together with pieces of string. Some resembled actual people, it seemed, and these figurines had arms, legs and a head, while others were more tied together in mystical geometric shapes.
She walked on, and as she approached the door, a flurry of beating wings from above the house caught her attention. The accumulated cries of a murder of crows bounced against the wooden exterior, and it seemed to her as if the black-feathered and sharp-clawed birds flew together in a coordinated dance of wings, claws and beaks towards the darkening sky, with their black feathers lit up and nearly shining beneath the silver moon. For the briefest of moments the crows gathered as one into what appeared to her as a kind of symbol against the darkness above; not a spiral or circle, but something akin and yet nothing like it, and it formed three curved arms that each seemed to reach out and grasp for her with their long, razor talons.
She gasped and blinked, and the birds once again flew chaotically over the house in no apparent order, as if they had never done otherwise, and from beyond the door, strains of an ancient song reached her ears. The music was almost soothing to her ears, for she hadn’t heard that...dirge..since her own grandpapa’s funeral. It was usually a song for male voices only, but this was being played on a large harp, and the voice was just a bit off key. It was an oddly familiar voice, though certainly not Waelden’s. She recalled he had a rather good voice.
Hild knocked on the door, and the wood made a louder, duller thud than she expected so she took a step back. The harp playing ceased that instant, and there was the sound of slow, heavy footfall making to open the door.
‘Definitely not Waelden,’ she thought, ‘Unless Yllfa has been feeding him up a lot.’ Taking a quick moment to tidy her hair, in case this was a family visitor, Hild put on her sweetest expression.
“Well met and goodev …..” Her voice trailed off. Familiar, yes. He was familiar.
“Good evening, Captain Denholm,” she said, just a little off her guard. Had she not spread rumours that there was some sort of enmity between Waelden and his brother-in-law? Could she have been wrong?
Denholm looked at her, or rather through her. His eyes were just a little glazed, as if he had not wanted to leave his music. Then he tilted his head, questioningly.
“I have come to bring a late supper for the family, and maybe stay awhile? Brona is asleep, and my husband is in Snowbourn, so I am a woman alone on what should be a family night.”
Now Hild, who had quite an eye for men, would normally have been very chatty with Denholm if possible, but there was something almost ‘wooden’ about him now. Oh, he wasn’t one for small talk, and had abruptly deflected her attempts to flirt, but now….he was wooden in his manners and stiff in his body language, much like a walking statue that had somehow come to life. He stood back a few feet to let her pass, and the grotesque sounds that escaped his throat was more like guttural gurglings than actual words. Once she was well inside the house, she turned her head to glance at the man again. His eyes were still seeing through her, in a way, yet registering her presence with a heedless expression.
“Lovely music there, Captain,” she said as she passed him. “But from those dark shadows around your eyes, maybe you should get some sleep, or you will be good for nothing.”
Was it just her, she wondered as she walked into the main room, or was there something ‘off’ about the place? Not that she had actually been inside Waelden and Yllfa’s new home before, but there was something….just...
“Where shall I put the food? Are the family still awake?” Turning to ask Denholm, Hild was brought to a start as he was standing right behind her. He pointed, slowly, with a slightly crooked finger towards the table where the remains of an earlier meal still lay, half-eaten and cold.
“My thanks.”
She moved lightly away, hoping Denholm would return to the harp or something, but he just walked off into the next room without any further word, almost dragging his feet behind him and scraping the leather soles against the hardwood floor.
For a moment Hild thought her best move was to leave the house, but she was made of stern stuff. She wanted company that night, and she would have company. Perhaps Denholm was just a bit overtired, the captain’s work already taking its toll?
And then she turned back to the table noticing movement in the shadowed corner. Someone else was in that room? A shadow moved there, hunched over a large, round iron-bound bucket. There was a faint sound of a scraping brush and splashing water, and what looked like illuminated soap bubbles rising over the shadow’s head.
Narrowing her eyes, she took a step in that direction. The floorboards creaked unnaturally loudly under her feet, and a raised nail’s head hurt her foot for a moment, causing her to twitch and groan quietly from the sudden pain. As she came closer, the shadowed figure became more familiar to her eyes, though whatever it was that lay there in the soapy water in the bucket, she could not believe. Waelden? Was that Waelden dressed all in black, and washing the tentacles of an octopus-like creature?
Suppressing an initial desire to scream, Hild tried waving to catch the man’s attention. What in Bema’s name was that thing though?
“Well met, Hild,” the Rider called to her, though he didn’t turn his face from the ‘thing’ he was soaping down. “Take a seat at the table. I am almost finished here.”
“Eh, are Yllfa and Ethel here?” It was a desperate grasp at normality from the tavern keep.
“Eh?” Waelden stood back a moment and the octopus, which seemed to have suddenly grown three times the size of the bucket, clambered out and scuttled across the floor in her direction, its tentacles seeking for grip upon the wooden floor and finding it promptly, as it increased its speed towards her. The creature’s eyes glistened and gleamed in the firelight, but its face was still draped in shadow.
Now Hild did let out a worthy scream. She dropped the basket she carried on the floor, spilling the stew and pie, and tried to climb on the table. As the spider-like monstrosity drew near and came further into the light, it looked up at her with an almost human face, and even attempted a wicked smile, as far as such a creature can smile. She screamed again loudly.
That had some effect, as a familiar female voice sounded from the top of the staircase. Yllfa, thank goodness, she thought!
“Waeldez! What have you done?”
A dark haired, black robed woman began to descend the stairs, with such grace it seemed she was floating down each step, as if her feet were not even touching the wood. She had a lit candlestick in her hand that threw strange shadows on her pale face, and her ruby lips were drawn in a beguiling smile.
“Oh darling, you hired a singer after all! How divine! You know that is my favourite song!”
Hild managed a final choking scream, to which the dark-haired Yllfa applauded vigorously, shaking the candle and sending its shadowed effect around the room.
Waelden, Waeldez … who had been watching the octopus, stepped forward so Hild could get a better look at him, now when the light was more favorable. Well, he initially stepped forward, then seemed to leap up the stairs and sweep his lady with an elegant bow with far more vigour than most younger men, and with a grace more fitting for a noble of Gondor, than a simple man of Rohan. His hair and beard were still grey, well greyish...and so were the rings around his eyes.
“Mortyllfa, darling, you look positively radiant tonight.”
He took her hand and kissed it passionately. Then her neck. Then the other hand.
That got Hildfrith’s attention. She almost forgot why she was standing on a chair. Her eyes grew wider as the couple embraced and started a dance together down the remaining stairs and across the floor. Such elegance, such passion, such dark ringed eyes. Then as Waeldez made to twirl Yllfa around, she dropped the candle upon the floor. It kept burning in its own dripping wax.
“Watch the can...watch the candle...Yllfa?” Hild managed to say, before the reason why she had climbed on the chair wrapped a welcoming tentacle around her ankle and made an odd clicking sound, as if it was saying ‘hello’, or was it perhaps saying something far more sinister in its own tongue? It was impossible to tell. For a moment she thought she could see a parrot-like beak opening and closing, though this beak had row after row of teeth in it, and each row of teeth seemed longer and sharper than the one before it.
She screamed (it was becoming a habit?) and jumped on the table, her boot making a squelching sound as she stood on the remains of what looked like a bowl of dried, severed fingers. They still had nails on them, and a white bone peeked out at the lower end of a few.
Waeldez picked up the candle, though it didn’t seem to burn or set him alight. He took his pipe from a pocket, some pipeweed from a small sachet in the same, and lit it with the candle remains. A sweet and fruity scent of herbs filled the room as he inhaled and then puffed out a large cloud of smoke. He drew another, and blew out a smoke ring that grew larger and larger as it moved towards Hild. A shriek escaped her lips again, as the tentacle squeezed her leg harder, tugging on it with slightly increased strength. Yllfa...no, Mortyllfa, applauded again. “Encore, encore! Oh Hild, you have such a sweet and tender voice!”
Then the pallid faced Mortyllfa noticed the octopus with a man’s face.
“Oh, there you are, my sweet baby. Now you know you need to look your best for tonight’s ceremony. Waeldez dearest, did you not finish the bath?”
At that threat the octopus released its grip on Hild, and it set off as fast as it came out from the bucket, scuttling across the floor and towards the front door as if its life would be greatly enriched by doing so. The door opened at it’s command, but it was Ethel who entered.
A dark haired, dark garbed Ethel! Her dress looked like black leather, with patches here and there, sewn on with hasty stitches. Over her shoulders rested a short, black coat of fur, that almost looked like a cat, and what looked like a tail rested over her chest. And she had wings. Small, black, feathered wings seemed to protrude from her shoulder blades.
“Oww Thu, mind who you are barging into. I am not a child you know.”
Ethel, Brona’s new friend, looked at Hild a moment, her expression one of disapproval and nearly contempt. Her wings twitched. Then she turned to her parents who seemed to be trying to eat each other with a loving, hearty appetite, though Waeldez was carefully holding his pipe aloft.
“Euuugh. Adults!” she uttered. “Get a room, why don’t you.”
At least that sounded like Ethel!
“Ahh, Wethelday, light of my life,” Waeldez announced, momentarily turning from his lady. “Are you and Herning ready for the ceremony?”
The girl nodded, then stuck out her tongue like any petulant child might. “Who let Thu out?” She asked accusingly, and looked to the petrified Hildfrith. “Was it you who let Thu out?” The girl’s eyes pierced her like arrows.
Shaking her head, the tavern keep wondered if she was dreaming. Surely she was dreaming?
“He was eager to get to the Chamber, pumpkin. We all are. But wait….” Waeldez turned again to Mortyllfa. For a moment Hild thought she was going to learn something even she didn’t know, but after several light bites at her neck and shoulders, he simply said ‘Sing for me, Mortyllfa darling, like the wolf of the night you are. I have waited so long to hear you howl and wail again, too long.”
With a demure chuckle, and a small bat at his nose, Mortyllfa put back her head and made an awful, mournful howl that echoed in the whole house. A painting moved and tilted itself with the sound, as if the walls themselves had shivered in that moment.
Even Ethel … Wethelday looked up at that. “Beautiful, mama. You should sing more often.“ She picked up a finger to nibble on. Her glistening white teeth crunched down on the dry flesh, and tore it off the bone with ease. She tossed away the bone into a dark corner of the room.
“That’s enough frivolity everyone. We need to be on our way.” Mortyllfa looked directly at Hild a moment, something in her eyes was familiar, kindly. Then she snapped both fingers twice and a large black raven, like those she had seen earlier, appeared, and draped itself over her shoulder as if completing her outfit. The raven laid itself to rest, and it cawed wearily.
“You will join us of course”, Waeldez said, smiling broadly at her. For that moment he looked a bit insane. Then he drew a sword she hadn’t noticed he was wearing and waved it gallantly, which seemed to impress the others. Maybe Waelden was a fighter after all?
Before she could muster breath to scream again, Wethelday made a piercing whistle, and a dog's paw appeared hopping across the room. It was indeed just a paw, with no dog attached. Hild rubbed her eyes.
“Call Lurcholm, darling,” Mortyllfa whispered in Waeldez’ ear, before she started biting it. He shivered in delight, and drew a fingernail lovingly across her pale throat. “Then we are all prepared.”
Before she knew it, Hild was being bundled through the door. Yes, of course she would join them for the ‘ceremony’. With Captain Lurchholm taking her arm and propelling her forward she could do no other. His eyes seemed unnaturally white as he rolled them back into his skull, and again he made a gruesome gurgling noise as he brought up the rear of the group. He wasn’t rough, just insistent she kept up with the family.
The sky was in ceaseless turmoil as she glanced up to the heavens. It seemed that storm front after storm front was gathering over Bancross. Heavy clouds of bilious green and black tumbled over each other with a sound of the deepest rumbling thunder she could remember. Not that the storms were gathering everywhere. The sky was clear to the east and south. The storm was very localised.
Wethelday was joyfully skipping with the animated paw along the stone-laid path, past Mearhe and Duncadda’s home. For a moment Hildfrith hoped and prayed to all that was good and true they would not be joining. She could not bear to think what that couple had become in this nightmare world of strange and mindboggling horrors. But no, Wethelday skipped past their dwelling and headed out to the north west. She was humming a song to herself, and uttered words that made no sense. From the girl’s humming tongue came utter gibberish that sounded like “ph'nglui mglw'nafh”, and it all made Hildfrith feel even more uneasy, as if the very words themselves were prying their way into her mind.
“I see you, Thu!” she suddenly announced in a break in the thunder. She kept humming and singing, but her words were once again in the common tongue. “You won't escape Herning and I, though you flee cross fields and streams and sky.” She pointed ahead, her eyes accusing and unforgiving. Her wings fluttered. It sounded as if she was delivering a curse.
Hild tried her very best to focus and keep her mind on point, as hard as it was, but the rain ruined her hairstyle, and her well coiffed tresses hung like strands of rope over her face and stung her eyes. Then a sheet of lightning lit the sky, as if in reply, or contest, to Wetheday’s pronouncement. It illuminated the path ahead. It illuminated what sat there on the path, waiting patiently.
“Oh, how divine!,” Mortylllfa announced, her face lit in adoration as she pulled Waeldez close again. “Our darling baby is almost full grown. It won’t be long now.”
Waeldez still had a sword in one hand, but didn’t seem inclined to use it against the octopus-like creature, now easily as large as a warhorse, that cast back a baleful look at them all. The human-like face contorted, and the beak seemed to form again. It yawned, it seemed, and clicked its thorny tongue. A single soundless word formed in Hild’s mind as she locked eyes with the creature, or rather it locked eyes with her. “Hungry.” was the word that echoed at the back of her head. It was not a word of sound, perhaps more a feeling instilled by the creature’s wanting eyes.
“Meal” announced the Captain, in a toneless voice. “We want a meal and sleep.”
“Aye,” Waeldez looked back, his eyes gleaming with mischief was it, or madness hidden behind them? “But don’t let the cat out the bag yet.”
“I already let the cat out of the bag, papa,” Wethelday stroked whatever it was hung around her neck. “He is having a nap.”
A second lightning strike lit the sky again, to show nothing on the path, but a house where there had been nothing before.
“Time is running out, hurry up everyone!” With a grin, Waeldez took Mortyllfa’s hand, locking fingers as he guided her considerately over the less muddy parts of the path. “Delightful weather for a party though, is it not!”
Doing her floating act again, Mortyllfa followed Waeldez’s lead, while Wethelday and the bouncing paw bounced ahead. Mortyllfa’s dress dragged on the wet ground beneath her floating feet, but strangely it seemed to gather no dirt or mud.
“It’s a shame we have to be indoors, darling. This is just the night to sit out together and admire the scenery.” she said with a smile. “It reminds me of the night we first met.”
“On the barrow-fields, under a full moon,” he chuckled in reply. “Aye, if we were not busy tonight we could do that again. But first things first! We have a meal to deliver.”
There was a flutter of wings as, for the second time that night a murder of crows took to flight, their claws and beaks seeming to reach out into the darkness as the moon-silvered birds formed a murmuration that was identical to the one earlier. The crow draped about Mortyllfa’s neck raised its head and cawed back at them as if in reply, and it spread a wing over her neck protectively almost like a mother shielding her young from the rain. For an instant two orange eyes glowed about four foot above the ground, across the field. Then the glowing eyes disappeared into the darkness again, and the loud bleating of a goat was heard, carried on the wind.
And now they were all at the large, arched, thick wooden door, by the house that did not seem to exist - or at least not until now. The heavy door swung open, creaking and whining, and the inside showed a simply furnished room, with a fire lit in one corner, and a large yew chest.
“Inside everyone. Time is short,” said Mortyllfa, and the crow that rested on her shoulders now raised itself and stepped off, flying to the top of the banister to the cellar, as she threw open the lid to the chest.
“Let’s all change into something more comfortable,” Waeldez added with a broad grin. He reached into the chest and drew out black cloaks, passing them around to the ones gathered….”A robe of ceremonies for everyone. These will keep us nice and cosy in the darkness.”
“Why thank you darling, you always look so strikingly attractive in yours.” Mortyllfa smiled sweetly as she took the robe handed to her, then turned to help Hild don hers. “Not quite your colour, Hild, but we don’t have blood red available this night I am afraid. You will look beautiful even so, my dear.”
There was the stomp of an impudent foot on the floor. “Not wearing it! It’s old fashioned. Great grandmama wore that one. I am already wearing something better. It will flatten my wings.” Wethelday pouted and looked quite sour.
“Oww pumpkin, come on. It’s just this one night? If you don’t want to wear it any more after that, it will be okay.” Waeldez beamed, taking out his pipe again from some hidden pocket, and lighting it with the tip of a finger. The sweet smoke once again filled the room as he puffed.
Wethelday stuck out her tongue, and tilted her head in an apparent rebellious act against her father, who gave her a kind but stern look that demanded respect. The girl sighed and cast down her eyes for a moment.
“Wethelday, sweetie, this is a special occasion. Please play along, for your papa and I. I will give you my pointy hat tomorrow if you do?”
Wethelday pouted. “The black one with the green band and crow feathers?”
“But of course sweetie.”
Wethelday sighed again but gave them both a nod. “Deal, mama. But next time I want to wear my own robe. Or at least have a new one sewn for me!”
So all were soon suitable garbed in long swirling, hooded black robes. At least it felt warmer than without them.
Hild couldn’t help feeling as if this particular party / ceremony would not be a hoot, unless owls were also invited. And above all, she wondered rather pointedly at why she was here in this house in the middle, quite literally, of nowhere.
“Into the cellar we go, to lose our minds and lose our souls,” Waeldez said, gesturing elegantly with the hand that didn’t hold a pipe. “After you, ladies.”
Wethelday went first. She was wearing large, heavy boots and clomped her way down whether it was deliberate or not. Mortylfa followed, floating down without even touching a step. Then Hild found she was being ‘guided’ down into another realm of sorts, and had things seemed strange to her this evening, what awaited her in the cellar would only drive her thoughts further into a world of mad and impossible surroundings that had no business in a quiet Rohan town. And yet, here she was...
Captain Lurcholm gave Hild a final, gentle push down the last step, and the thick mist - or smoke - or steam - or whatever it was that filled the room, made it hard to see at first, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. There was a strange red light that emanated from the back end of the room, but it came not from the lit candles that Wethelday was already tending to. The red, filling light just seemed to… be there, as if it always had been.
Two huge, hulking robed figures stood there in the back, but they were not moving, and even though lifelike, their faces of carved stone betrayed their nature as statues, or idols of a kind. Hild gasped as she moved closer, with Lurcholm still right behind her, urging her to move forward to the center of the room. She had not noticed it at first, but there were symbols, words and figures carved all over the stone floor.
A raised circle of gray marble sat in the middle of the room, and inside that circle was a five pointed star of a more golden metal-like appearance, and on each of the tips stood a small red candle that Wethelday had just lit up.
Mortyllfa and Waeldez followed down the stairs, and they both sighed in quiet wonder as they entered the room. Their long flowing robes spread out behind them upon the floor, and Waeldez bowed before a smoking Mortyllfa, and took her hand in his as he watched Wethelday preparing the room. The animated paw still hopped about, round and round the circle it went in merry skips, and from behind one of the robed statues, the unmistakable shape of the now enormous octopus-like creature dragged itself forward towards the circle and the star, but stayed just outside of it.
Hild felt its presence growing, just not in the room itself, but in her very mind as well. Strange and unspoken words once again formed at the back of her head, and for a moment she saw… some kind of visions, perhaps, images of black stars that looked like twin suns behind a veil, and strange shores by even stranger lakes. She was not in Rohan anymore.
Two words she could understand, as the creatures watched her with glaring, hungry eyes… “Feed me”, it said. And again… “Feeeeed meeeee!”, it continued, almost wailing with hunger. Hild shook her head, and buried her face in her sweaty palms, but yet she peeked through her fingers, perhaps out of curiosity, but perhaps more out of fear of not seeing what was going on around her. “What is this?!” she screamed. “I can hear him...it speak!”
Waeldez snapped his fingers twice, and at once the family gathered around the circle, each person by one of the star’s tips. “Worry not, my dear.” he said to Hild. “This is for the greater good, and all will soon be unveiled.”
He motioned for Lurcholm to take Hild to the last, unoccupied star point. The woman struggled at first, but her eyes felt heavy and her mind drowsy, much like after a night of long and deep drinking. The strange atmosphere in the room seemed to drain her… Lurcholm dragged her to the star with ease, and her feet felt almost nailed to the ground there, and she found it near impossible to move once she was put in her place. Waeldez raised his arms, and from his mouth came the same kind of strange words she had heard in her mind. His voice echoed in the room, and the women of his family followed suit, drowning the silence with ancient song. Even Lurcholm, with his strange wooden manners and rough of voice and throat as he was, chimed in together with the family, and soon all of their voices acted as one, harmonizing and sounding almost pleasant with the unknown words growing louder. “Iä! Iä!”, they chanted over and over again, and many other strange and unfamiliar words that pierced Hild’s mind.
The ever-growing creature, now reaching almost as tall as the roof and with tentacles long enough to reach the other end of the room if it wanted to, dragged itself into the middle of the five-pointed star, leaving a trail of unspeakable substance behind it. Its massive beak and rows of teeth clicked and clacked in anticipation for whatever would come next.
Hild felt her breath quickening, and her voice almost drew air by itself, wanting to join the others in their chant. Then, suddenly, from her throat came only a petrifying scream, as the creature wrapped a slimy, thorned tentacle around her waist and pulling her closer towards it, with its beak still clacking in apparent hunger.
“NOO!” she screamed again at the height of her womanly voice, and the sound broke the ongoing chanting from the family. They all looked at each other, and then to Hild, and their eyes were almost sad, disappointed and offended at her breaking the mood, the chant, and the rising atmosphere in the room. The creature growled and wailed quietly, and let loose its grip and laid itself down on the floor in the middle of the star, much like a sad pup. Its huge eyes looked wantingly, longingly, and sadly at her as she broke free and ran away, with a springy step. “I’m not… I don’t… Let me out!!”, she cried, and almost flew up the staircase, leaving the red-lit cellar room behind her.
“Oh, what a shame.”, Mortyllfa said to Waeldez. “She showed so much promise.” Waeldez nodded and bent down to kiss her hand with youthful grace and compassion, and then sat down on his knees to comfort the now crying, sobbing creature on the floor. “Don’t worry, my dear, sweet little baby.”, he said with a soothing voice, as he stroked it over the head. “We’ll find you another one soon, little Thu. I promise.”
Hild ran out the front door and closed it shut behind her, and rested all her weight to it for a moment to catch her breath, and also to keep them inside, should they come after. But no-one came. Her eyes darted back and forth over the village of Bancross, searching for familiar sights, anything that would keep her sanity intact, and find a way to safety from this… house of unspeakable horrors. She had seen enough for one night. No more.
She gathered all her strength, and even though her legs protested, she ran across the field, flying over the grass with springy steps worthy of a hunted doe. The thunder still rumbled, and the clouds in the sky were black and crimson red. She dared a last, final look towards the house of horrors as she ran, and still no-one followed her, and even the house seemed to disappear behind the tapestry of rain that kept falling, washing away all that once were there.
As she turned her head forwards again, lightning struck a tree in the distance, and the bright light that came with it betrayed another large, enormous figure right in front of her. How could she have missed that thing? It had long, curved horns that seemed to stretch endlessly, and its black fur lay damp and wet over its huge, strong frame. It was a black goat, but larger and unlike any goat she had ever seen in her life. Its eyes, burning in a reddish orange, stared at her with encouragement and promise, and with a thunderous voice, the goat spoke...
“Wouldst thou not like to be a delicious meal?”, it said. Hild screamed… “No! No more! Leave me alone!” She kept running, and neither the goat followed her, though it reared up to stand on its hind legs for a few moments as the next lightning bolt struck. Running, fleeing, she kept going over the fields and gardens of Bancross. Her steps were light, but she felt like she ran forever, until she reached her home at long last. She opened the door, and then her eyes. She was in her bed, and her sheets were wet from sweat, and her pillows and blankets thrown to the floor in a huge messy pile.
Confused, Hild looked around her and gasped for breath, filling her lungs with the familiar air of home, knowing every smell there was, of linen and flowers and herbs, of sweet baked bread, and a fire burning in the hearth, and the smoke that came with it. She ran a hand over the wooden frame of her bead, grasped the woolen blanket and fur coverlet ….no blood, no bones...no octopus? She was home… had it all been a dream? Yes, it must have been… all just a terrible dream…she pinched herself lightly a few times, just to make sure.
She sighed, and rose from her bed with a feeling of gratitude for the day. It was early morning, the sun had not yet risen fully, but it was coming along nicely from behind the mountains in the distance, and spreading its light more and more with each moment that passed. She rubbed her eyes, and took a few steps outside her home to catch a breath of fresh air. Her dream had been the worst ever, she thought, but she didn’t want to remember it, and much of it had already left her muddled, fresh awake mind.
There was a stubborn flower still growing by her feet, and she bent down to pick it up. The wind chilled her sweaty linen dress and she shivered, but she did not care for the cold. Even at this time of year, when leaves are falling and everyone is preparing for winter, beauty is still there, everywhere, and even the most stubborn of flowers can still grow. The flower’s scent was sweet and comforting to her, especially so at this hour, and after such a night. But the shadows lengthened for a moment as she stood there, enjoying the clean, fresh air. And down the hill, three figures walked slowly across the grasslands, all clad in what looked like black, floating robes….
Rohan Family * (Based on ‘The Addams FamilyTheme’ by Vic Mizzy)
They’re solid as a stable.
They’re skilled and they are able
Eorlingas is their label
A Rohan family
Their house is full of straw
They have a huge front door
They’re always up for more
Rough
Tough
Enough
So put an olive shawl on
A horse that you can ride on
We’re gonna pay a call on
A Rohan family
They’re solid as a stable
They’re skilled and they are able
Eorlingas is their label
A Rohan family
Horse
Of course
A Rohan family
Acknowledgements and inspiration :
Much of this story is obviously inspired by ‘The Addam’s Family’ tv series https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0057729/ and films https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0101272/
Also inspired by: The call of Cthulhu - by HP Lovecraft https://www.hplovecraft.com/writings/texts/fiction/cc.aspx
The Thing -- John Carpenter https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Thing_%281982_film%29
The Witch - Robert Eggers
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Witch_(2015_film)
The little shop of horrors - Howard Ashman https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091419/
The Birds - Alfred Hitchcock https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Birds_(film)
“Into the cellar we go, to lose our minds and lose our souls,” from “And into the forest I go to lose my mind and find my soul” - John Muir
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Muir
- * A Rohan Family is based on ‘The Addams Family’ lyrics - Vic Mizzy
- https://genius.com/Andrew-gold-the-addams-family-lyric
