by Elle A. Rose
part of the celebration feast upon our safe arrival home. The gourd itself may not ward off unwanted souls but it will deter them.
I’m panting as we finally make it to the fork in the road Dad spoke about earlier. To the right, nothing but dry soil as far as the eye can see. I believe that path was the one that led to what ultimately took my uncle’s life. To the left, the peaks of castles appear. All xecerptavode tribes occupy stone castles. I say ‘tribe’ loosely. Besides being able to give birth to offspring, every xecerptavode is able to regenerate a carbon copy of itself. This only occurs when any part of their body separates from the host. That is why we have not been able to kill them, and how the human race lost The Great Takeover.
We hesitate only a moment. But that is all the time needed for a crazed spirit to spot us. With a horrid shriek, the fully formed body hurls itself at us. I’m frozen, and cannot move, no matter how much I will my body to do so. I can’t shield my ears from the screech threatening to shatter my eardrums. My eyes are no longer in my control. They’re permanently fixed on the creature closing the distance between us. And my feet, though I’ve given the command to move, have betrayed me. The mutilated embodied soul is inches away from me, when the air whooshes from my lungs as something pushes against my abdomen. I fall, hitting the ground as my father comes between the attacker and me. In one fluid movement, Dad strikes a match and throws it at the soul. Bluish-green flames fill the space around us as the spirit is vanquished back to the other side until next All Hallows’ Eve.
Dad whips around and yanks me from the hard ground.
“Don’t you do that again!” he screams, before the light from the flame fades, and we are shrouded in darkness. He shakes me and I fight the urge to vomit. “I will not lose you. Do you understand me? I will not go home without you.” Relief washes over his face and he pulls me nearer. This is the first time he has hugged me in years. His heart is jack-hammering through our thick layers of clothing. “Verick, you have to be more careful. I’m not always going to be here for you.” He releases me and Uncle Etan’s heavy hand comes down on my shoulder.
“I find it easier not to look them in the face.” Uncle Etan is a man of few words.
I nod.
“Here,” Dad pulls a few more matches from his pocket and hands them to me. “We’ll have to scavenge for more while we’re out, but if need be, use these.”
I secure the matches in a small pocket mother stitched inside my jacket and we sprint toward the castles.
It’s not until we come closer to the village that we get a glimpse of a xecerptavode in stasis. Our ancestors who rise from the dead do not take flesh-form as the xecerptavode spirits; instead, they insert themselves into all living xecerptavode to freeze them in place. Although the creature is frozen mid-stride, we still take precaution slipping by. This is my first time seeing one in real life. The drawings I’ve seen have done no justice. From behind, xecerptavode appear to be human; their build is equivalent to ours. Like humans, the male species is generally taller than the female, but it’s their facial features that differ from us. In place of a nose, xecerptavode have four long tentacles squiggling from their large mouths. They pick up scents through two tiny holes on either side of their temples.
I attempt to take my uncle’s advice and not stare at the creatures face; however, I’m drawn to its eyes. They are the same shade of green as mine. A slight chill runs up my back, and I look away from the eyes that seem to be glaring at me. I pull my attention back to the fortress in front of me. Other humans have begun to raid the houses. Xecerptavode cannot keep track of time, so they’re unaware of when these raids take place. Because of this, they booby trap their strongholds year round. In early days, humans would raid as many castles as possible leaving the xecerptavode foodless and with damaged goods. This would cause battles between the local humans and the new inhabitants of the planet. Now, to help keep order and loss of life to a minimum, we only take what we need to make it though the year. Then when our ancestors vacate the living, the xecerptavodes will go on with their day as if nothing happened.
“All of these houses have been breached. Let’s go down a few more rows,” Dad states. He motions for us to follow him.
I gape at the huge fortresses that line the dusty lane. It takes us approximately twenty minutes to walk by three castles. I believe my family’s home would fit in the entryway of any of these stone houses with room to spare. As we pass the fifth castle, a scuffle breaks out. A man and a woman fight with an angry spirit and one of the xecerptavode’s pets, called a Vodepod. The large six legged creature snarls, baring its teeth, before latching onto the man’s forearm and giving him a violent shake.
“Should we help them?” I ask. It appears Dad and Uncle Etan may just keep walking, as if they do not see the distressed woman frantically trying to fight the vodepod off now that she has set the spirit aflame. She throws herself against the beast over and over again. Her untamed hair reminds me of my mother and without thinking, I dash toward the struggle. As I near, I call out to get the creature’s attention. It works. The scaly beast’s head pops up and sniffs the air. Resembling its alien counterparts’ facial structure, its scent glands sit on the temples with eyes and large squirming tentacles around the mouth’s outer ring. The vodepod rakes its webbed paw across the dirt, and then begins to charge. I’ve just removed my knife when Uncle Etan attacks. The creature is down in an instant.
My hand shakes as I slide the knife back into place. Dad scowls at me and I wait for him to bellow. Instead, he, Uncle Etan and the woman go about dividing the carcass. I watch for a moment before assisting the man bandage his arm. He’s bleeding heavily and we end up cutting what’s left of his jacket into strips to tie tightly around his upper arm.
With three of the burlaps sacks filled with meat that the women will preserve once we return home, we move on. I believe I’ve slowed the men down this year. I sense Dad and Uncle Etan are becoming agitated the farther we walk. So many castles have already been raided. The further we travel, the more we will need to backtrack to make it home. And we must be well on our way before the sun begins to rise.
After another hour and a half of walking, we come to a castle that looks untouched. We scout the surroundings and find a pit filled with seawater, seaweed, and ophidians. The snakelike creatures are a delectable treat after being cured. Uncle Etan pulls rope and a hook from a pack he carries on his back.
“You two go ahead. I’ll collect a few of the snakes and seaweed.” He lights a small beige jack-o-lantern and begins securing the rope to the hook.
“Come on, Verick. Follow me and watch your step,” Dad says.
Air sticks in my throat like mud on the walls of our house, as Dad takes a running jump across the moat from which my uncle is fishing. My hands twitch helplessly while his fingers grasp a rope that dangles from the grimy stone siding. His feet scrape the sides before they turn outward to gain hold on the slim rock foundation under him. He gives a hard tug on the rope and a door opens. Then in one swift movement, Dad swings his body onto the falling door and waves me forward.
“This way, son.”
I’m relieved I don’t need to jump the moat as well. I would’ve surely fallen into the pit. The ophidians may be delicious, but their bite is deadly. I glance at my Uncle as I cross the bridge and he smiles.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he says.
After I cross the drawbridge, I realize we have not entered the house yet. With watchful eyes, we make it to the front door. In the archway, Dad holds up his hand, and I wait as he removes dirt from his pocket. He sprinkles it on the stone in front of our feet and some of it bounces off of something suspended in the air. On closer inspection, it appears to be a dark cord hanging between the framework. Dad taps me on the shoulder and points up. I follow his hand and am shocked by the contraption looming over our heads. It appears to be holding massive size rocks.
“Should we let Uncle Etan know?”
Dad shakes his head.
Concern has crept back into my dad’s face. “I’ll be careful,” I assure him in a weak voice. Could I leave here without him? Could I make it back home by myself? Those questions roll around in my brain as we trespass further into the house.
We make it another two feet before we are approached by another creature the xecerptavode brought to our planet. It’s smaller than the vodepod, but is fierce. This beast has gills that open and close rapidly. Although its mouth doesn’t have tentacles, when it opens its jaws, six rows of teeth move back and forth within its maw. My mind races as Dad skillfully takes the beast down. This creature will now feed our family for a few months is called a seavode, because they can live in and out of water.
Dad looks up from the dead beast and says, “Why don’t you search the house for some fabric. Remember, don’t take too much, but enough for a few new tops and bottoms will do.”
Because we’ve killed the seavode, we’ll need to leave a door open. The aliens who own this house will think the beast just ran away.
“Verick.”
I stop and face my dad. There’s blue blood dripping from