by Ksenia Anske
“I missed you.” Lilith scooped up her pet and kissed his nose.
Panther choked on his last word, unsure how to react. He most certainly wasn’t expecting a display of affection.
“I want to see it through, don’t you?” Burning curiosity blinded Lilith’s common sense, and her recent horror of being almost eaten by a monster faded away in light of her new excitement.
Rosehead heaved, roared, and clutched her bulging sides. Her foul breath covered the girl and the dog with a shower of leaves and soil.
Lilith crept closer, wanting to see better.
Panther cleared his throat politely. “For my personal sanity, may I inquire about your plans, dear Holmes?”
“Huh?” Fascinated, she barely heard him.
“I was just wondering. Simple curiosity on my part. But...are you planning, per chance, to deliver the babies yourself? Or, perhaps, you want to invite them to join their mother in the fun game of hunting us together?”
“Aha,” said Lilith absentmindedly.
“I see. May I remind you that it’s not just us? If by chance Ed and Petra haven’t reached his cottage yet—” His next words were drowned in noise.
Lilith slumped on the ground and covered her ears. A fresh wave of contractions made Rosehead holler a cry of such magnitude, it must’ve been heard over the entire property.
“Where is grandfather?”
“Happily on his way.” Panther pointed with his nose.
Lilith’s stomach shrunk.
Two circles of light danced in the distance. Unlike Ed’s flashlight, these were clearly big and powerful electrical lanterns.
“As you don’t seem to be in appropriate shape to perform any kind of running, and as your faithful pet, I do not dare to even fathom the idea of leaving you alone. I suppose hiding this very moment would be in high order?” Panther tugged on Lilith’s sleeve.
“I can run,” said Lilith uncertainly. She was torn. Part of her wanted to flee, yet another part wanted to stay and watch. She chewed on a lock of hair. “Although, I must say, I really want to see what happens. Concrete facts observed firsthand are a requirement in any serious investigation, dear Watson.”
Panther let out an exaggerated sigh. “A convenient excuse for adolescent nosiness, if you ask me.”
Lilith scoffed.
“Well, it’s too late to attempt an escape now. How about that cluster of bushes? Over there, yonder?” He took off.
Too tired to argue, Lilith staggered after Panther.
Keeping a safe distance, they rounded the convulsing monster and crawled deep into shrubs directly opposite. From there they could observe the labor in plain view.
“Why do I feel we’ll regret this choice not one hour later?” grumbled Panther, squirming to make himself comfortable.
“Oh, you’ve developed psychic skills? Excellent. It relieves me of the burden of consulting a book every time, which is, of course, not appropriate for children growing up in the twenty-first century,” hissed Lilith.
They bickered some more, eventually exhausting the argument and falling quiet. The cold night won over talk and forced them to concentrate on mutual hugging to keep warm. Although, naturally, it was mostly Lilith hugging Panther and not the other way around.
Minutes trickled by.
At last, two male figures appeared from the darkness, flooding the area with light. It took Lilith a few blinks to get used to the brightness and to recognize Alfred and Gustav, both clothed in gardening suits and heavy boots. They exchanged a few shouts in German. Rosehead’s shrieks grew irregular. Alfred carried huge gardening shears. Gustav pulled on a leash. Bär sniffed around with dutiful interest, purposefully avoiding one obvious direction, giving a warning roar.
Lilith and Panther held their breath.
For the next hour, illuminated with unforgiving electrical light, they observed the most fantastical, repugnant, and spine-chilling birth.
Alfred opened the shears and proceeded to hop around Rosehead, clipping and snipping and cutting much in the same way he did when he fashioned her out of a shrub; only this time, he cut her apart. She produced an unbelievable racket. Lilith thought her grandfather performed something close to a miracle, avoiding blows, jumping around, and still doing his job, unscathed. His arms moved with incredible speed, as the shears clicked and clacked. Canes broke with horrible creaking. He let out a cry of triumph.
Rosehead hollered one last time and fell silent.
First one, then a whole lot of what looked like balls of tumbleweed, shot out of her and filled the air with hideous screeching, their bodies wriggling, writhing, and squirming, their eyes throwing an eerie crimson glow.
“What are those?” whispered Lilith.
“Mutant baby elephants, of course. Very, very small ones.”
Lilith gave Panther the look.
All newborns were miniature copies of their mother, colored painfully bright. As soon as they stopped rolling, they unfolded and surrounded the two men, gurgling. The noise reminded Lilith of a hungry stomach rumble, multiplied exponentially. Gustav danced around his master, letting Bär do the protecting. The mastiff howled and roared and woofed and snapped, chasing off the creatures and forcing them to scatter into the garden.
“Why do I feel like it was not a good idea to stay?” said Lilith, mortified.
“Can I use the proverbial ‘I told you so’ as an answer?” growled Panther.
Lilith sniffed the air. The usual stink vanished, replaced by a pleasant floral aroma. It’s as if the birth replaced it with the enticing scent expected from roses in a flower shop. She suspected it’s how the newborn garden lured in its victims, and her heart plunged into her stomach.
Another wave of newborns tumbled out. And another. And another. Lilith lost count. A pack of them had to be continuously scared off by Bär or poked with a stick by Gustav. Alfred snapped shears at those that dared to come closer. At last, done and empty, Rosehead dozed off, snoring into the sky.
One of the newborns tumbled to their hiding spot, barely a few feet away. It sniffed the air and ogled the bush where Lilith and her partner in crime hid. Panther growled, causing the thing to jump, screech, and burrow itself into the ground with a satisfied chuckle; it darkened and turned into a rosebush like any other, its eyes multiplying into flowers, their glow fading until they vanished.
All around them the garden repaired itself, rapidly growing anew. By contrast, the bush cluster they were sitting in wilted and shed leaves at an alarming rate.
“She gave birth to a whole new garden,” Lilith whispered. “It’s regenerating. Look.”
“Are you implying I’m blind? I’ve seen enough, thank you. I tell you, I’ll never pee on one of those things ever again,” Panther growled. “Forget it.”
“They must be possessed like her. So the old garden dies and the new one grows every ten years. Is that how it works? I think I know what’s going to happen at the carnival. They will suck people dry.” Lilith swallowed. “Down to the very last drop. Um, I just thought of something. How are we going to get out?”
“You just thought of that? Your lack of foresight astounds me,” Panther rumbled out of the corner of his muzzle.
Alfred picked up something, shining a light on it.
“My beret!” exclaimed Lilith a little too loudly. She covered her mouth.
“You and your berets!” hissed Panther.
Alfred looked up, wiped his sweaty brow, and marched directly toward them, rudely pushing Gustav and Bär aside. They followed a short distance away, apparently for safety reasons.
Lilith’s spine turned to ice. Panther’s fur bristled.
Alfred squatted by the shrubs, shining his lantern directly at the girl, just as more and more shriveled leaves and flowers floated down, exposing them.
“Lilith. Why, how nice to have finally found you. I must say, part of me expected you to be here. Fascinating things, aren’t they?” He shined his light at the nearest bush.
Lilith gr
abbed Panther, who licked her reassuringly. Pulsing afterimages floated in front of her eyes.
“My dear girl, you just witnessed the work of a true rosarian—a glimpse of your potential future. You’re demonstrating a real aspiration with your presence here. I’ve seen the beginnings of your talent and, I must say, I’m duly impressed. You’ve exhibited exemplary characteristics of a Bloom heir, with a proper green thumb.” He stood and stamped his foot.
The remaining leaves fell with a soft rustle.
Lilith stiffened. They sat behind naked canes, plainly visible. There was no use hiding anymore. She took a deep breath, carefully parted thorny stems, and stepped out.
Chapter 27
The Mad Gardener
Only a short while ago, Lilith thought that facing Rosehead was the scariest thing she ever did. She changed her mind. Rosehead was only a mutant bush, a giant creature worthy of children’s nightmares. The true horror lay ahead of her. She had to confront her grandfather out in the open, in the dead of night, armed with nothing but her wit and fury, painfully aware of the fact that he was both a killer and a Bloom, which made him family. Part of his blood coursed through Lilith, and she hated him for it.
“You’re a monster,” she said, her face contorted, fists clenched. Panther snarled his approval. Lilith thought about her mental list and recited it. “You’re a brute. A book hater. A murderer. And a liar. You tricked me.” This was fair game, she thought, not gossiping your opinions about people behind their backs, but relaying the truth to their faces.
“Is that so?” Alfred inquired, lowering the lantern. “Please, kindly explain what you mean.”
“You think nobody will believe me,” said Lilith, struggling to control her voice.
“Hmm. I thought we established this fact earlier today, didn’t we?” Alfred exuded his usual charm.
“Petra and Ed saw Rosehead, too. Oh, and Ed started talking, for your information. He’ll back me up. I’ll tell my dad you fed grandmother to her. I’ll keep telling everyone until they believe me, or I’ll come up with a story to make them leave. Either way, there won’t be anyone for you to feed to the garden tomorrow. The mansion will help me.”
“Remarkable. I see you know everything better than I do. You’ve got it all under control. I’m impressed,” said Alfred smoothly.
“Hello. I apologize that on our first encounter I didn’t introduce myself properly. Let me correct my grievous mistake,” Panther yapped, his head held high. “My name is Panther Bloom Junior. I will proudly join Lilith in spreading the word about recent events, you money-thirsty, slow-witted creep.”
Lilith gaped at her pet, barely discerning him in the dark. “You talked? In front of an adult?”
“Can’t a dog change his mind?”
Grandfather chuckled in surprise, surveying the speaking hound miracle. “Well, well, well. Wouldn’t you say. Bizarre. Truly bizarre. I thought I’ve seen things in my life. Turns out, I haven’t. I suppose I wasn’t mistaken in my assessment. A whippet is not a dog; it’s a joke, a breeder’s mistake. You, my dear, belong in a freak show, in one of those exhibitions of biological rarities as a specimen of canine intellectual deformity. You might earn my son some real money finally.”
He poked Panther with his boot.
Panther twisted to avoid it and snarled.
“You try biting me, and I’ll cut you into a kitty. Understood?” He snapped his shears for dramatic effect.
Panther mumbled something incoherent, retreating.
Satisfied, grandfather turned to Lilith and spoke directly into her face, his putrid breath coming in waves. “As for you, my dear, please, correct me if I’m wrong, but I thought I just heard that a girl and a...talking mutt...will accomplish what generations of men were unable to do. Be my guests, my dearies. You have approximately thirteen hours to fulfill your goal. I’ll be watching you with avid interest.”
He straightened.
Lilith felt her tongue turn to cotton. She couldn’t produce a single word. Panther grunted. Bär grumbled. Newborn bushes shifted restlessly around them, creeping closer. Alfred threw a command in German. Gustav prodded the mastiff to work. His brooding woofs caused a scuffle and a shuffle. The bushes retreated, jostling in disappointment.
“Who, I’d like to know, will believe a twelve-year-old mentally unstable girl, a fourteen-year-old psychotic boy, a seven-year-old, and a yakking pooch?” said Alfred, clearly enjoying himself.
“You think just because you’re big, you can piss on those who are little?” rumbled Panther.
“You keep talking to me in that condescending tone of voice, creature, and I’ll make sure you don’t say another word,” Alfred said pleasantly.
Panther snapped his muzzle shut.
“I’ll tell everyone that the doctor is dead,” Lilith interjected. “I’ll tell them how I ordered the room to murder him. They’ll call him and they’ll find out that he’s missing.”
“Will you? Quite commendable.” Alfred sneered.
“So you admit to it!” Lilith shrilled.
“Admit to what, my dear?”
“I thought I asked you to stop calling me ‘my dear!’ And stop pretending like you don’t understand what I’m talking about!” Lilith’s voice caught. “Stop making me think I’m crazy! Because I’m not! I commanded the mansion. And it listened. I heard it do it! I HEARD IT BREAK HIS BONES!”
“Did you now?” Alfred raised a brow.
Lilith decided to push a little further. “I figured out the bait thing with Rosehead. Guess what, you’re bait for her now. Didn’t see that coming, did you?” Lilith realized she sounded rather immature, but she didn’t care at the moment, hoping to squeeze more information out of her grandfather by shocking him into it.
It didn’t work. He lost interest and made to walk away.
Desperate, Lilith reached out to him. “Why do you keep doing this, Opa?” She was on the verge of crying. “Why don’t you want to stop this stupid massacre? How could you not? Is that why you want me as heir? You got tired of it and you wanted to pass it on to someone else? What kind of a—”
Alfred grabbed his granddaughter’s shoulders and shook her, kicking Panther hard when he tried to bite. “You’re an annoying know-it-all, aren’t you? Well, in that case, please fancy your dear grandfather. Tell me, what else do you know about me that I don’t?” Bits of spit flew from his mouth.
Panther received another kick and flew into the darkness, yelping. Bär tore at the leash, Gustav shouting in an effort to hold him back.
If Lilith thought she was frozen before, she was wrong. Her body turned to brittle ice. She stared at her grandfather’s face, eerie in the glow of the lantern.
“TELL ME!” he shouted, giving her another shake
“You’re scared,” Lilith said quietly. “I know what you’re scared of. You’re scared of dying.”
Alfred let go of her so fiercely, she fell to the ground. He threw the beret in her face. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped littering my garden with your things. Now, get out of my way.”
He yelled at Gustav, who answered back hastily. They huddled together and took off.
Lilith slowly picked up the beret, her heart fluttering like a caught bird. The rustle and bustle about her intensified. The bushes rapidly closed in. You’re nothing to me, rang in her ears. You’re bait. She understood the meaning of it now. Nothing special hid behind these words. Her grandfather truly didn’t care. He simply designated her as yet another body to feed to the garden, albeit extra tasty because she was a direct descendant of Rose Bloom, the first human this place feasted on.
Panther limped toward her, baring his teeth.
“Don’t,” said Lilith. “Not worth it.”
A burning wish to hurt her grandfather flooded her, yet she suppressed it. He was clearly blind to anything but his own gruesome self-preservation. Lilith had to finish her task, to get everyone safely off the Bloom property; and the sooner she did it, the better.
“I can
’t believe you talked,” she told Panther.
“I’m still pinching myself. And you’re welcome.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s that German flea—must have bitten me.” He scratched his ear. “I’m rather proud of you for confronting him like that.”
“Do I get a medal?” asked Lilith.
“How about I rip out his throat?”
“Don’t waste your breath. I’d rather you work a slightly different angle at the moment. How about you keep these fantastically hungry and miniature elephants out of our way before they eat us alive?”
While they talked, a dark mass of shrubs surrounded them. Leaves and twigs and flowers wobbled and hobbled, slowly scuttling closer.
“Why, you don’t want to pet them? I think they’re rather cute,” grunted Panther, his fur bristling.
A hushed clatter came from all sides, as if pincers of giant insects rubbed and rattled against each other.
“Which way would you like to go?” inquired Panther. “You better decide quickly.”
“Er...out?” Lilith pointed at the light shining through the gaps in the hedge. “Let’s follow them.” She pushed away stems, even as one of them swiped at her face. “Now!”
“As you wish,” growled Panther. The slithering mass hurried apart, screeching in frustration.
They dashed, weaving in and out of rose clusters, knocking moving canes aside and avoiding what looked like thorny welcome hugs from all sides. As quiet as Lilith tried to be, twigs crunched under her feet. They came within about twenty feet of her grandfather when he suddenly turned around and flashed his lantern at them. “I said, go!” He opened his shears and set off toward them.
Lilith and Panther didn’t need to be asked twice. Without any sense of direction, they broke into a blind run, dodging newly grown bushes, skidding along pathways, darting under overgrown arbors, and rousing croaking crows in their wake. After a few minutes, they abruptly ran into the fence on the other side of the garden, its gate closed. Dark Rosenstrasse stretched into the night behind it.
Lilith wheezed, a stich tearing at her side. “We’re late.”
The garden stretched seamlessly from fence to fence, rustling ominously. Not only was there no sign of the mansion, the motor court disappeared as well, as if the whole thing never existed.