SLClimer - Rumours of the Grotesque

by Rumours of the Grotesque (v1. 0) [lit]

  After a span of silence, Melanie finally mustered the courage to ask the true questions burning in her mind. “What's it like to be dead?"

  Aunt Alice grinned. “Oh, is that all?” She sighed. “It feels like nothing. I was just nothing."

  "Really? There was no bright light or tunnel?"

  "Not for me,” she said as the headlights of an oncoming truck highlighted the valleys cracked in her leathery face. “I'm sure others have moved on, but I was just dead. I suspect it was from Kuolema and part of my payment for the wishes I had made."

  "You never got to go to heaven?"

  "No.” Her eyes lowered with sadness. “I never did."

  Melanie's eyes brightened. “What if I wished that you..."

  "No!” Alice shut her up swiftly. “I told you never, never wish again. You must swear to me that you will never wish again. Even under your breath or even if the weather is bad, never wish again."

  "Never?"

  "Never,” Alice reinforced. “I love you too much. I don't want my fate to befall you, too. Now, swear to me against God himself that you will never wish for anything again."

  "I promise, I swear.” Melanie was so shaken by Alice's intensity that she almost swerved off the road.

  They were silent again until they arrived at the farmhouse. Daybreak was still hours away, and the house loomed like a vacant giant in the shadows. As they got out of the car, Alice took great care of the nylon bag in her hands. To her, the tender package was as volatile as a bomb; to Melanie, it was a mystery.

  "Time to take care of business.” Alice hobbled up the narrow walk, but instead of heading to the front door, she began to go around the house.

  "Aren't we going inside?” Melanie paused. “Don't you want to go in your house again?"

  "No,” Alice kept on her path, “it's much too painful. If I saw my beautiful home again, it would make my fate even more unbearable."

  "Your fate?” Melanie followed her aunt as they came out in the back yard.

  But Alice was silent from then on, and Melanie trailed after her like a nipping puppy. Alice's pace slowed as her feet snagged in the unmowed grass. She was heading toward the old orchard on the back of the property, which butted up against dense woods. In the center of the ancient apple trees stood an old stone well high on a hill. Methodically and driven, Alice climbed the steep mound and momentarily stopped to rest. She leaned against the crumbling mortar and fieldstones, and glanced into the deep, craggy well hole.

  "There's still water.” She exhaled sharply with disbelief. “I thought this well would have dried up years ago.” Then, she began to reminisce. “I used to play here as a little girl. One day, my brother dared me to climb inside and see how far down I could go."

  "You didn't?” Melanie was surprised.

  Aunt Alice returned to her tale. “I was nine, and besides, it was a dare. Anyway, I was halfway down; I can still see the narrow ridge that my little toes rested on. Then, I slipped and fell. I tumbled into the water. I was lucky I was a scrawny thing or my poppa would have never fished me out."

  Melanie watched her old tired eyes and leathery face as every movement caused a new crease that stood out in the bright light of the full moon.

  "That's when I found it."

  "The paperweight?"

  "Yes, the paperweight. Only, it's not really a paperweight. Sure, it is glass and it is beautiful, but the fracture within is not a break. It is a crack in time, a place where Kuolema comes out."

  "It was in the well?"

  "I don't know how it got down there, but my foot stirred it up from the bottom. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I stuffed it into my pants, and when I was hauled out of the well, I kept it.” Alice turned to Melanie and touched the girl's face. “I never meant for anyone else to find it."

  "When did you find out it wasn't what it seemed?” Melanie asked as a cool breeze swept the orchard.

  "It wasn't until I was a young woman. Kuolema heard me wish. My sister was dating the most handsome boy, and I was so jealous. I wished for her beauty, then I wished for her man."

  "Uncle Joe?"

  "Uncle Joe,” Aunt Alice's confession was humble. “I got him, sure enough."

  "Is it a spell?"

  "Kuolema's magic?” Alice sighed. “No, I don't think so. It lives off the greed and selfishness of men. After my wish for Joe, I devoted my days to researching what Kuolema was. I finally found my answers in Norse mythology. The mistletoe and hoof from a stallion was supposed to pacify the spirit, and I prayed that when I was on my deathbed, no one would ever find it again. I hid it deep inside the house, but I can see now it was all in vain."

  "Can the spell ever be broken?” Melanie was on the verge of tears from the tale.

  "I just know that if you die, and you never make three wishes, Kuolema will be gone.” She shifted to gaze down the well again. “I was never fortunate enough to have the willpower to resist. Kuolema knows that a mortal can't resist making wishes."

  Alice paused and felt the breeze on her body. She could see her bones peeking through her skin, and the tendons on her hands cast high shadows in the moonlight.

  Suddenly, with critical drama, Alice turned to Melanie. “Promise me you will go to your grave without making the third wish. That is the only thing that will break the glass."

  "I promise, Aunt Alice, I promise."

  "You don't want to end up like me, doomed to eternal life as a corpse.” Alice then put the nylon bag tightly under her arm. “Now, I must take this away from you. Maybe if I can keep this from the world, the temptation will go from you."

  "Kuolema won't come if the paperweight is gone?"

  Alice began to climb up on the stones of the well. “Oh, no. You've made a bond with it, a pact, and it is depending on your human greed to fulfill its cause."

  "Kuolema will come?"

  "Even at the slightest whim. Never wish, for any reason, never think of wishing, for it will be your doom.” Alice started to ease down the well.

  "Where are you going?” Melanie was frantic and upset with Alice's action.

  "Taking Kuolema back where I found it, where I know I can keep it from the world.” Alice stepped onto one of the craggy ledges inside and paused to give Melanie one last message. “Forget about me, my sweetheart. Don't call for me and don't come to this well, ever again. I will not come, no matter how much you call. I must never let this out of my sight again."

  "Wait, Aunt Alice.” Melanie rushed up to the well as her favorite aunt, the woman who was more like a mother to her, disappeared into the abyss of the hole. “I love you."

  Alice didn't answer her favorite niece's tearful words; she kept moving downward toward the water's surface. She kept the nylon bag securely at her side as she climbed deeper into the depths. Slowly, her body penetrated the icy water until the brim of her hat disappeared entirely. Then, the water's surface calmed and Melanie could see a faint glimmer of moonlight on the surface. Aunt Alice was gone.

  * * * *

  College passed swiftly for Melanie as did most of her life. Gradually, she became consumed by the pressure of being the keeper of two unused wishes. She moved into Alice's big old house and inherited a fortune larger than anyone could have guessed. In spite of her efforts, the family—bitter at being cut out of the will—abandoned Melanie. That was fine for her; it made the burden of the wishes easier to bear. The last thing she wanted was to endanger anyone she loved, even if they no longer cared for her.

  Fleeting and empty, the years passed. And in frail health, on the eve of her 85th birthday, Melanie ventured to the well in the apple orchard. Her old bones creaked beneath the cool winds of autumn, and the full moon was like a spotlight in the sky. She remembered years ago when she first came out to the well with Alice. It all seemed like a distant dream, but it all happened years ago.

  Exhausted and out of breath, Melanie clutched her chest as pain rocketed through it. The medicine wouldn't keep death at bay for long, and soon K
uolema could be expected to show its luminous face. She leaned against the well and stared down into the deep hole. A distant image of the moon tickled on the water's surface.

  "Aunt Alice,” she whispered in a feeble voice, “it's me again. I've come to visit you once more, and this time I think it will be my last.” Pausing, she drew a ragged breath. “I've waited all my adult life, it seems, for death to come. My life has been nothing but loneliness. Oh, Alice, if I only knew the consequences of making that first wish as a stupid girl. It was a mistake to bring you back. I've been afraid of that word for as long as I can remember, but now I'm not afraid to utter it."

  The pain from the walk forced her to sink down and sit with her back to the well. Her dark, floor-length dress was torn from the walk and wet with mud and dew. Above her, the apple trees reached for her with skeleton limbs, seemingly to scoop her up into their boughs. If only there was a second chance for her. If only she could go back and do things over again.

  "Aunt Alice, I've decided to make one more wish."

  Melanie sighed, looked skyward into the starry night, and began to formulate the words in her mind. She wanted the phrase to be perfect and right, and cause the least amount of distress to her remaining life. Melanie winced as her heart, beating like a horse with a broken leg, echoed in her ancient chest.

  Then, the wind picked up slightly through the apple trees. She pressed her head against the stones to avoid the nipping breeze. That's when she heard it; there was a scraping and clawing sound coming from within the well. She smashed her ear against the stones to hear more clearly. Indeed, there was something inside climbing out. Melanie knew it was Kuolema coming to grant the wish, and she quickly thought about the wording some more. Above all, the words must be correct.

  Melanie stood and braced herself against the wall, waiting to greet the phantom. Instead, though, the sound of scraping grew louder. Kuolema was spectral; she wouldn't climb up the side of the well. It must be something else then.

  Leaning over the stony edge, Melanie peered down inside the dark hole. As far down as she could see, illuminated by long beams of invasive moonlight, there was movement. The form was gloomy and slow-moving, but constantly mobile. Suddenly, the creature paused and looked to the mouth of the well. Moonlight struck the whites of Aunt Alice's eyes. Then, she resumed her ascent from decades of self-exile in the dark waters below.

  Melanie gasped, terror and nervous anticipation fighting for control of her body. For so long, she had suppressed the bleak memory of Aunt Alice's living hell. But she couldn't curb the memories any longer. The image of Alice's rotting, animated corpse in her college apartment returned, as did her words of warning.

  Slowly, Alice reached the top of the stones. Pulling herself up and out on water-swollen, tattered arms, she smiled at Melanie. The dress had barely kept any of its vibrant pink, and the rings that once hung loose were like tight bands of steel confining her distended fingers. Slugs and leeches clung to her, feeding on her skin, and green algae spread out over her shoulders and hair.

  "Melanie,” she whispered through dripping slime and parasites, “don't be alarmed. I'm afraid I've lost my beauty over the years."

  Repelled by the horrific spectacle, Melanie recoiled. Aunt Alice looked far worse than she remembered so many years ago. Then, in Alice's hand, she saw the paperweight. It was shiny and clear, unobstructed by exposure to the water and weather. Deep within the glass, the tiny fracture was alive with bright light. It was pulsing and growing, signaling Kuolema was coming for Melanie's wish.

  "I promised I would never come to you again, Melanie. I swore on my soul to keep Kuolema from the world.” Aunt Alice balanced on the edge of the well. “All of these years, I heard you when you came to the well. I heard every word you said to me, and it took all my strength not to crawl up to you. It was my duty to keep this little paperweight out of your sight."

  "I still don't understand it all,” Melanie whispered hoarsely. “A wish is supposed to be innocent. After all, it is just a dream."

  "Dreams come true, my dear, and so do wishes,” Alice said sagely. She gestured to the glowing glass ball. “I had to come to you when I heard you say you were going to wish again. I had to convince you to please reconsider."

  Melanie's old eyes caressed her long-suffering Aunt Alice's face. “My life has been nothing but loneliness, ever since I made that first wish. Look at what my selfishness has done to you."

  "I made my bed long ago. You're not to blame."

  "I, too, made my own destiny. Ever since that first wish, my life has been a void. I've lived alone. I have no one to love me. I was too afraid that my simple words would bring more tragedy, so I stopped living at all. I've been in this house for over 60 years—all of them alone. Not only did my wish curse you, I doomed myself, too."

  "Please, child.” Aunt Alice looked into Melanie's wrinkled, troubled face. “Don't be so hard on yourself. You can break the spell. It's too late for me, but not for you."

  "It's too late for me, too.” Melanie sighed and clutched her anguished chest. “My heart is going to kill me any day now, the doctors say. That is one of the reasons I've come to see you one last time."

  The light in the paperweight was pulsing. “No more words. Kuolema will rise and hear you. Leave it dormant, let it die with you."

  "I intend to.” Melanie felt a shudder of pain rocket through her left leg and left arm. “I have two wishes left."

  With those words, the light vaporized and reformed as the phantom. Kuolema took shape in front of them, draped in luminous, flowing cloth.

  "What is your heart's desire?” Kuolema whispered.

  "No,” Alice said, “I beg you do not wish upon it."

  "I have a desire.” Melanie tuned-out her Aunt's plaintive voice. “I want ascension into heaven for my Aunt Alice. I wish for Aunt Alice to be at peace and go to heaven."

  "Melanie, what are you doing?” Alice suddenly dropped the paperweight as her body rocked with tremors.

  The paperweight slipped from her hand and fell like ice onto the stones of the well. In the light of the moon, the glass shards were like a waterfall.

  Alice's body began to atrophy before Melanie's eyes. The moisture was wrung from her tissue like a rag, and the worms and parasites fell from their host. Their food source was rapidly becoming dry and brittle.

  "I can feel it,” Alice smiled as her voice suffered from the sudden onset of decay. “I can feel Heaven coming for me. Thank you, my darling, thank you."

  Melanie felt the pain in her own body rise to screaming crescendo; her chest heaved and shook from trauma. Alice's eyes dried to small dark lumps and her skin to powder. The breeze coming through the apple orchard tore at her, taking the remains high into the air. Alice simply blew away into the night, free from Kuolema's power.

  As Melanie watched the empty pink dress sink back into the well, she turned toward the still vaporous image of Kuolema hovering near her. The paperweight lay broken in a million pieces, and Alice was now truly dead and at peace. Melanie knew her own death was imminent and that she was having a massive heart attack in the orchard.

  "I can't think of a better place to die.” She withered beneath the moon and sank before the image of Kuolema. “I never knew what I started years ago would curse me to a life of pain and loneliness. I've paid for my selfishness, and I forgive myself.” Melanie looked into the austere face of the phantom. “I go to my grave a loveless old woman, that is enough payment.” The pains in her chest were overwhelming, and it would be only seconds before death claimed her. “Aunt Alice always said Kuolema appeared at the death scene to ferry souls into the afterlife...” The pain consumed her completely as her heart's battle was lost.

  And she gently rested her head against the well, Kuolema's vaporous image was dissipated by the same orchard winds that carried Alice to heaven.

  The Damned

  "Virgil!” Her voice boomed through their tiny blue collar home. “Virgil Spiddlebock! You better get a job today, or I'm
going home to mother!” She thundered through the bathroom door, tossing it back like a dog that needed kicking.

  Virgil could see his dear devoted wife in the reflection of the medicine cabinet mirror. She had that same sour expression that always seemed to be on her middle-aged, moderately pudgy face.

  "Yes dear, I have a good feeling about this one. I really think I have a chance."

  She looked at her husband, the father of their two monsters, and sighed. “Look at yourself. You look like a great plaid turd.” She straightened his bow tie and brushed his thinning hair to one side. “So when is this interview?” she grumbled as if Draino were her gargle.

  He looked up at her and smiled. Yes, he thought, she was a gruff, rotund 747, but she had her good points, too, all of which eluded him at moments like these.