Tag: shortstory

The Jovial Man

I was sent to the country estate of a young lord who passed away quite unexpectedly. I was told very few things about this incident but my instructions were clear: investigate and report on the cause of death. However, the most frustrating part was that he had been cremated the very day he had died.  

I arrived three days past his death on a hot afternoon in the middle of summer. I gathered everyone who lived or worked at the estate which I was surprised to see left me with only three individuals in attendance. I decided to interview each of them separately in the parlor. First, I interviewed…

The Gardener

I began with what I consider a pleasant remark, “There are only three of you. That is a small staff for an estate this size.”

The gardener sat opposite me. He was a man in his late forties. When he placed his hands upon his knees, I noted he had seven fingers in total. His head gave a slight, intermittent twitch when he spoke, “Everyone is there, well, except for the groundskeeper but we won’t see him again, I don’t suppose.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I’m not sure,” he shrugged. “He isn’t here now is he?”

“What happened during the hunt where the lord died?”

“Well, I’m not sure. The lord only went hunting with the groundskeeper in attendance. It was quite a terrible thing. I went to do my work in the garden and I saw him. Gutted. The groundskeeper held him. It was quite a sweet thing.”

“What was he gutted with?”

“Well, I’m not sure. Perhaps it was an animal? He was on a hunt. I suppose it would make sense for him to have been gutted by an animal.”

“But you were able to see him from the garden.”

“I heard him from the garden.”

“What did you hear?”

“Well, I’m not sure. How can I describe it? Like- like silent words. Yes! Silent words!” The gardener became remarkably animated. “I knew his silent voice and ran to him.”

“You recognized him without hearing him speak.”

“Yes, sir,” he nodded. “He was a good lord. Enjoyed himself at times like you would expect from a young man but not cruel or incompetent.”

“He liked to hunt?”

“Yes, sir.”

“With only the groundskeeper.”

“Yes, sir.”

“This groundskeeper was at his side when you found the body. Now tell me why isn’t the groundskeeper here anymore.”

“Well, I suppose that’s his business. No lord anymore to serve, I suppose. Sad. He and his lordship got on well.”

“How well?”

The gardener looked up, “The groundskeeper was a very happy man. He seemed to bring the lord happiness as well.”

“Mhmm. And can you describe the groundskeeper for me?”

The gardener frowned, as though the question were more difficult than the others. “Well, I’m not sure… He was… well, some people are easy to describe, I suppose. He was strong. A very jovial man. That’s why he and his lordship got on so well.”

“I require a physical description.”

“I don’t think you’ll find him. He is gone.”

“All the same.”

He hesitated, then gave a small, uncertain shrug. “Well… I’m not sure.”

The Maid

“You are employed as a maid here, ma’am?”

The old maid set down her tea. “A maid- ‘Head maid’ is what his lordship paid me as. I’ve been many a thing here. Oh yes, I was first employed by his lordship’s late father. A wet nurse, I was. I had just had my Marten then—my big baby boy. Off now, fighting somewhere in the marshlands. He’ll always be my baby boy.” She smiled faintly. “The size of him coming out of me…” She waved a hand. “Unseemly. I’ll spare you that. Your wife would know all about it. You’ve children, sir?”

“No children. No wife.”

“A shame. We always need more babies in the land. Good men. Men to fight alongside my Marten.”

“Ma’am.”

“Hmph? Oh, yes. The young lord.” She nodded. “I was nanny next. And other things besides. A good lad he was. Him and my Marten got on well. His lordship was quite sad when my boy went off to war. You’ve heard anything from the marshlands?”

“I haven’t.”

“I hope he returns soon.” She folded her hands. “He’ll be heartbroken to hear of this. Oh, how I cried when they brought him in.”

“They?”

“The gardener- though not much use he was. Led the way, that’s all. No. The groundskeeper carried him. In his arms.” She gestured toward the table. “Set him down right there, he did. I saw the cut. Right across his belly like the dear late lady of the house when she passed giving birth to his lordship. A nice man, that groundskeeper. I think him and my Marten would get along well. A shame he left. A good final act bringing in our young late lord back into his home.”

“Tell me more about the cut.”

“A nasty thing, that cut. Curved like a smile. Oh, how horrible. To talk of a smile when we all grieve his lordship’s passing. Make me speak of it no more, sir.” 

I was unsure of how genuine her horror was as in the tone of voice everything sounded a bit dramatized. Regardless, “I’m afraid I must insist. The body was cremated before I arrived so I did not have a proper chance to examine it. Did the cut look a particular way?”

“I’ve never been one for those things men enjoy like hunting. I don’t know what injury it is aside from a cut.”

“From an animal?”

“How should I know?” She gave a small shrug. “You’d do better asking my Marten.”

“Was it jagged? Or clean?”

She frowned slightly.

“I wasn’t looking so closely. There wasn’t much blood.” She looked up. “Strange, that. But he was warm. Like anyone.”

I hesitated, “Tell me about the groundskeeper.”

“Oh, no need to trouble yourself over him.” She shook her head. “Good man.”

I waited.

Finally, she added, “He didn’t kill his lordship,” she said with a smile. 

“How do you know?”

“Didn’t seem the type. No… a feeling! Not him. Kind, that man, like my Marten boy.” 

“Can you describe him for me?”

“The groundskeeper? I don’t see what for but I would describe him as stable. Warm. Jovial perhaps.”

“I require a physical description.”

“Oh! Um… well he was always smiling. Clean! Very clean. Never had to clean up after him.”

“How about features? Hair color? Beard?”

She paused, tensed her face as if trying to pull an obscured memory. “I don’t really know how to describe him. Maybe a beard. Maybe hair like my Marten, my sweet boy,” she ended with a smile.

“And what hair color does Marten have?”

“A walnut brown. Beautiful. A little tuft on his head like a lion’s tail, he had, when he was born that is. Much more hair now.”

“So the groundskeeper had brown hair? A walnut brown?”

One of her brows raised. “…n- n- no… not that color. Lighter? I… I don’t recall… No point I suppose. He’s gone. Won’t see him again, I’m afraid.”

“And why not?”

“I… I don’t know… I hope my Marten returns home soon.”

The Butler

“And you-”

“I upkeep the house, sir,” the old butler sighed.

“A butler?” I asked.

“If that’s what you will call it. I have upkept it well, don’t you agree?”

“And how long have you been employed here?”

“Longer than the gardener but not as long as the maid.”

“And the groundskeeper?”

“The groundskeeper is the newest addition to this estate. Was, not is, correct?”

“Are you asking me if the groundskeeper is gone?” I was confused.

“Oh, I was merely correcting my own grammar. Sadly, the groundskeeper is gone.”

“Where?”

“I’m not him, correct? Only he would know where he is. Unless, he is lost but I doubt that to be true. He was a very skilled groundskeeper.”

“Yet the lord died while on a hunt with him.”

“Tragic and untimely. You inquire about the nature of the lord’s accident?”

“Accident?”

“Well, you don’t think it was something else, do you sir?”

“Tell me about this groundskeeper.”

“A good man,” he said. “Very good. His lordship trusted him. We all did.” He paused. “He encouraged… ease in the house. Conversation. A drink, on occasion.” A faint smile. “It is a quiet estate. I do admit to the occasional glass of sherry and the gardener has his whiskey. The old maid doesn’t drink. Not until her Marten boy comes home,” he rolled his eyes.

“As the senior servant, you will notify the next of kin.”

“I had assumed that was your purpose.” He studied me. “The estate will pass to the Crown, will it not?”

“I have no such instruction. Why was the body cremated before my arrival?”

“The groundskeeper saw to it.” The butler gestured faintly toward the grounds. “He built the pyre himself. You passed its remnants on your way in.”

“Why was he permitted to do so?”

“He knew what was required.” A pause. “We deferred to him.”

“You deferred to a groundskeeper.”

“He seemed to know best. Good man. Loved our lord. Kind to us. Always smiling.” 

“So, I’ve heard. Describe him.”

“Why, yes, he… well, my memory isn’t what it used to be, is it? He was quite charismatic. Smart. Had a way of infecting everyone with his happiness.” The butler grew livelier with every word he spoke, “We all looked at him as he took our late lordship to the flames and were comforted because of his presence. He took care of us before you arrived. I will miss his company. He was quite a jovial man, wasn’t he?” 

“Quite,” I fought back my annoyance. 

“I require a physical description.”

The smile faltered.

“Yes… of course.” He hesitated. “He was—”

The butler stopped.

“Like the others, I am going to give you some drawing utensils. Please do your best to draw me a picture of him.”

“I find that difficult,” he said.

“Try.”

He reached for the pencil.

“I am no artist,” he murmured.

He drew.

I observed three curved lines upon the page. He paused, studying them.

“No,” he said. “That is not right.”

“No, that’s not right. Less triangular, more round.”

My frustration bled through and warmed my face. I do not know what compelled me then. I took the pencil from his hand and began to draw. The lines came easily. Too easily.

When I had finished I showed the butler what I drew and his eyes lit up and he smiled and exclaimed, “Yes! Yes!!”

“Sir?”

“That’s him!” he shouted with a face contorted in a smile 

“Sir?!”

The butler began soiling himself.  Repulsed, I stood up..

He continued his frantic excitement, “That’s the groundskeeper!”

From the other room I heard the old maid cry out, “Oh, he’s here. He’s returned!”

I ran to the other room. 

The maid and the gardener were both in tears staring out the glass door into the yard. The gardener hysterically sobbed.  Tears of joy fell to his knees and he slid his nails down the glass so harshly that it left bloody streaks. 

The old maid said, “Oh, I’m as happy as if my Marten were coming home.” She pulled her hair out from her bonnet and dragged it through her fingers. She began to pull out her own hair causing her scalp to bleed.

I looked out the window. Just beyond the tree line I saw a man. Not a man but a glimpse of a man. I could not make out his features easily but it… it was just like my drawing!

The gardener and the maid continued to cry. The man stepped away behind a tree. 

The butler came into the room with tears as well and stated, “He is leaving. We will not see him again.”

I put the picture into the butler’s face. “This man. This is the groundskeeper, right?” 

The butler responded with a face as cold and calm as a statue, “That picture is just a bunch of lines. Doesn’t look much like anyone.”

I ran outside towards the tree line. Suddenly, I stopped. A foot away from the forest. I could only feel one thing… fear. I placed my hand on my pistol and backed away slowly. 

I returned to headquarters and made my initial report of the events. My superiors were unsatisfied and gave me time to draw up a satisfying explanation of events. I delayed.

Eventually, although I struggled to remove the investigation from my mind. Someone found a second cousin of the young lord. He would inherit the estate. Everyone seemed to want the investigation closed. My superiors gave me until the end of the week.

In the dead of night, before the report was due, I lay in my bed trying to think of anything but the estate. As it seemed increasingly more frequent as I got older, I went to use the restroom. On my return, I entered through the open door of my bedroom. 

There he was, in the dark. I froze. I did not dare to look directly at his face but I knew it was him. I felt his smile. It was the same. The same as the forest at the estate.

Something in the room was wrong. Not in its arrangement, but in its measure. As though he occupied more space than he should have. His smile was jovial but his unmoving expression instilled me with a terror unmatched. 

I kept him in my peripheral vision but as I felt my balance start to shift I was forced to move. I took a step and looked up at him. I have never before been so afraid of death. But he was gone. 

The room was as it had been. I stood there for some time. I cannot account for what I saw. Nor for what I believe. But I was left with the same unexplainable certainty I had observed in the others. A feeling. That… thing… was responsible in some way for the lord’s death, and that I would not see him again.

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Angela

SIN

Atop a sunny hill rested a large radiant house, a comparable mansion to its surroundings. In this house, in the master bedroom I, an occasional resident, crept in. I still heard my stupid words in my head, What do you need? I heard Europa answer, Just some perfume and oils. Come on, little sis, you said your mom is never home. I always smiled when she called me that. 

I silently moved into the master bathroom and saw a beautiful and ornate bottle with a large gaudy peacock feather cap. Its label read ‘Teleia Anointments.’ I stared for a moment and began to hyperventilate. I grabbed it and dashed away.

I quickly but without slamming closed the door behind me. I felt the house stare at me. I stared at it, backing away slowly. I ran.

Europa was waiting in the car for me and she barely noticed when I nearly threw myself in. I looked at the house again and it glared back at me. I turned to Europa for comfort. She was supermodel pretty. The type of attractive that everyone knew she was so far and above the rest that she was near untouchable. She was checking her makeup in the mirror and was completely unfazed by my panting and furrowed brow. I handed her the bottle, “Here.”

She took them and when our hands were right next to each other I looked at her flawless pale skin next to my tan hand. I forgot for a moment that I was this color, that I didn’t look like her. Not even a little. I was 16 and she was 19 and until I saw our hands a part of me had thought that I could look like her in three years… well… maybe.

“Thannnnnk you!” she said with glee and no mind to the anxiety attack I was having. I looked back at the house. It looked closer. “Oh come on. Your mom won’t notice them missing.” Under her breath she added, “Bitch has tons of it, probably.”

“You don’t know my mom. She could- she would kill me!”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t need it. She probably doesn’t even use it. I will. Trust me, Angelaaaa, it’s worth it.”

“You gonna tell me about the guy at least? I mean other than the details I didn’t ask for.”

Europa looked at the house and smirked.

“Maybe. Probably. Eventually.”

I rolled my eyes at her, and Europa cackled.

BIRTH

Sunset. A simple urban lower class neighborhood in LA. houses tightly packed with too many cars out front and endless cracks on the street.

I was running down the street in sheer panic. I kept looking over my shoulder to look for it. I knew it was following but my eyes saw this empty street. 

I ducked behind a car and caught my breath for a moment. I peeked around back from where I was running. Still nothing.

I looked up. The dark clouds invaded the sky coming from the direction of the house. She knows.

From behind me there was a woman’s voice, “Are you okay?”

I turned to see an extremely pregnant woman in front of her house watering her plants.

I was on the verge of tears. The woman looked at me deeply concerned. She groaned a little as she bent over to turn off the hose and walked over to me.

She placed one hand on her stomach as she attempted to crouch down. As soon as she was in reach, I gave in. I put my face on her legs and wept. 

“Oh! Oh… oh, sweetie. Shhh… It’s okay. It’s okay.” 

I was comforted.

She brought me into her home and sat me down at her dining room table. She gently stroked my head and made a quiet shhh sound. I did my best to stifle my tears for her. She placed a glass of water in front of me and rubbed my back.

She said, “Here, sweetie, take a drink. Crying dehydrates you bad.”

I took the glass with two hands and shoved it, and I saw the amusement in her face. 

She sat down next to me and asked, “OK… I just want to ask if everything is alright. You were… I mean…” she gave a small but incredulous chuckle and leaned in. “ What’s your name?”

“… My name is… Angelia”

“What was that?  Angela?”

I just looked at her. 

“OK Angela, do you want to tell me what happened“

I took a few more short breaths, and I tried to speak, but there was a hand covering the speaker on my voice box. “I- I- I… My…” I felt the emotions bubbling up again, ready to start leaking out of my eyes. 

“It’s OK. You don’t have to talk yet. I just need to know if I should be calling someone… The police…? “

I cleared my throat. “No… No… They can’t.” 

“Your mom then?” 

I jumped up, and my voice found me “No!!!” I tried calling myself and repeated, “no. Definitely not her.“

“OK… Definitely not her then… Can you at least tell me why you were running down the street? You don’t look tweaked out or anything what are you supposed to be on medication”

I sat back down. “ No… I’m not crazy“ I looked up at her and couldn’t help but glare. A new emotion overcame me. “Do you know who I am?” 

That was rude of me. 

“I’m sorry. I’ve never actually said that before. My parents are important people… But they didn’t raise me. They sent me off to school as quickly as they could to let some tree… to let some people… raise me.“

She nodded, “I’m sorry… Is that what you said to not call your mom? She wouldn’t care?”

“It’s not that. She would hate me if you know what I did.”

“What did you do?”

I thought back to that house. I thought about my mother, throwing things across the room in anger. I thought about her vendetta. I thought about her kicking my brother out of the house for far less. Maiming him for just existing. 

The woman continued, “ sometimes mothers can be more understanding than you think.“ She placed her hand on her belly. “I know mine was. But I know the fear.“

I looked at her. How young was she? Pregnant? Started to shake. Otherworldly screams started to fill my ears. Beasts. Tigers, birds, women, my mother. Her screams were more terrifying than any beast. It cracked through the air like lightning splitting the sky. I started to get dizzy. “You don’t know my mother. I’ve been afraid of her my whole life.” I looked at her belly. “I am too afraid to have a kid because of her. I’m too afraid to be married or even be around boys because of her.“

“Why? Does she hate you?” 

I started rubbing my head in my face. “I feel dirty. I feel dirty. I feel so dirty!” 

The woman recoiled and pulled her arms close to her body. “What about a dad?”

“My dad… My dad?” it finally dawned on me. My mother really will kill me. “Europa, you bitch! My dad?! He would send people for me and everything the way he wants it. But he won’t do a damn thing himself. That asshole!”

“Dad isn’t an option either then… OK, who can I call them? Do you have a place to stay?” 

I noticed an older lady standing in the corner of a hallway. I gave a short YELP! But the pregnant woman softly embraced me, and stroked my hair. She said, “It’s OK. It’s just my mother.”

I started sobbing. I didn’t want that lady near me. In between crying breaths, I managed to make out a, “Please… no…” 

“It’s OK. Here. Drink some more water.“ She pushed my water cup towards me.  She walked away to talk to the lady. 

I overheard them. 

The lady asked, “who is she?“

“I think she said her name was Angela. She’s really distraught. I don’t know what she did but she is deathly afraid of her mother.“

“Why? What did she do?“

I thought the woman rolled her eyes, but held back a bit of laughter. “Ma!!“

“What? I’m just making sure you didn’t bring any drama into my house.“

“Oh, you love drama! Go back to your Novelas.“

Suddenly the woman braced the wall. 

“Sweetie, are you OK?“

In pain, “yeah, yeah. My water broke.“

Her mother and I looked at her legs. They were dry.

“What?“ The lady said, “I don’t see anything.“

Through clenched teeth, “yeah, a few ago, I already changed.“

“Change?! Why would you do that?! You need to go to the hospital, you are having a baby!“

My eyes went wide. Under my breath, I muttered, “no…“

The woman screamed from a long and painful contraction. “That was a big one,“ she quipped while out of breath. 

“How many minutes apart are you?“

“What time is it?“

“We need to get you in the car.“

“OK, OK. Just let me sit down a minute.“ The woman slides down the wall to sit on the ground.

“I’m getting my car keys“

The lady ran off and the woman screamed in pain again. I somehow made my way over to her, and with her scream, I put my arms up as if I was going to be hit.

“No, no, you can’t.”

She put her hands on her head and Doug and slightly with her fingernails into her scalp.

“Stop it! Stop!!! You’re calling her!”

The woman took another deep breath in and yelled in pain.

“You’re calling her! She will find me! Do you know what she can do?!”

I move back and forth in the hall. I crouched in.

“Stop it.!!!!! She will hurt you too for helping!!!”

The woman wasn’t listening.

“She will do worse than kill us!!! Stop it!!! T-terror!!! Madness!!!“

The woman screamed again. I lunged forward and grabbed her by the neck. I squeezed to make the noise stop coming out of her mouth.

“Stop screaming. Stop giving birth. She will hear.“

The lady came back in and gasped. She didn’t understand why I had to attack her daughter. She moved in and tried pulling my hands off, but the adrenaline made my grip too tight, then she tried shutting me away, but still nothing. Finally, she took her keys in her open hand and whacked me in the head with them. I fell back and felt the blood already dripping from my forehead.

“I’m so sorry.” I looked at them with tears in my eyes. “I hope she spares you.”

I got up and sprinted out the front door and down the street the same way I was running before. 

MARRIAGE

I never ran like this before. Twilight faded into night. I came over a hill and saw a hospital in the depression between this hill and the next. I jogged along the hills towards the back of the hospital and saw a series of large containers lined up, refrigerated, to deal with the overflow. I stumbled down the hill towards the containers, and I ran to one, placing my hands on it and touching my forehead to its cold exterior. I needed to catch my breath.

In between breaths, I muttered, “please stop… Please stop… Please stop….”

I heard voices in the distance. Male. 

I crept alongside the container and picked around the corner. Towards the end of this empty row were a pair of men opening the doors to one of the containers. Beside them was a gurney with a zipped up body bag. 

“I’ll go get the other one,” one man said before walking away. 

“Well well well! You weren’t leaving me alone with this thing,” the other men complained.

Then both men walked away. 

I kept staring at the gurney and my eyes refused to look at anything else I needed help with. I knew that with this I could find help. I cautiously tiptoed to the gurney. I placed my hands on top of the body bag. “Please help. Please help me. Polydegmon, Unseen, take me in and hide me.” I slowly unzipped the bag. About a quarter of the way open, the corpse’s left arm sprang out. It hung lifelessly to the side. I jumped from the air and 12 feet back. I stared for a moment, making sure it wouldn’t move again. 

I stared at the hand. There was a wedding ring. I heard her voice again. I didn’t know if it was a memory or from far away she activated every nerve on my back. My eyes swelled again. I didn’t know my body could produce this many tears. “No… Don’t… Hera…” 

I reached towards the wedding ring, but 3/4 of the way there my hand felt like it had touched a hot stove. I recoiled again. I spun around and vomited every last thing that was in my stomach. I heard the sound of gurney wheels on asphalt return to see the shadows growing and I dashed away.

I heard on the far side of the container again while the men stored the body in the container. I whispered to myself, “Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.”

I heard one of them say, “Did you hear something?”

Still, I whispered, “Not you. Her. Don’t see me. There’s nothing for you here. Nothing you care about. The end of your work. The contract to oversee. Hide me, Death“

I closed my eyes and pictured the house again. Its vibrations, its hollow pitch of anger building and building until… Nothing. It fizzled out. The moment of anger had passed. I fell to my knees and pressed my forehead to the container again. “You’re gone? You aren’t angry anymore?“ I gave the greatest sigh of relief. “Thank you.“ I kissed the container and smiled.

I heard the sound of dripping water. Tripping off of soaked bodies. What? Thunder echoed. I turned around and saw them. Those things. The single street light cast two dark shadows making them seem even less human. I know they aren’t human. Their crab-like claws. Their unnatural movements. Kabiri. 

DEATH

I couldn’t believe my eyes, my words escaping in disbelief. “No… Oh Lord, no… Why…? Why did you send them?” I stumbled backward, seeking refuge in a container.

The figures suddenly exhibited awkward movements, as if still adjusting to the earth and air. My panic, previously filled with hysteria, transformed into a more strategic and measured state. I could hear my own breaths echoing through the air as I sprinted, my eyes scanning the surroundings. Spotting an abandoned building, I paused to contemplate. Yes, that would be my destination. With determination, I sprinted toward the dilapidated structure.

Inside the abandoned building, the broken window provided me with a slender passage. Once safely inside, I cautiously distanced myself from the windows and doors. My gaze swept across the desolate interior, revealing nothing but dried-out paper, broken planks, and shards of plastic. However, my eyes remained fixed on the broken window, searching for the slightest hint of movement.

Time seemed to stretch as I waited, my eyes locked on the shattered frame. The tension built as I peered out another window, catching a glimpse of their shadows—horrifyingly hideous shadows. My gaze darted from window to window, my mind playing tricks on me, until a sudden crash shattered the silence. A claw burst through one of the windows, causing me to yelp and cover my ears. Determined to escape, I hurried toward another window in the distance. With desperation, I removed my shoe and struck the glass, but before I could break free, another claw shattered the window, invading my sanctuary.

Wiping the glass shards from my face, my only option was to flee upstairs. My eyes darted across the surroundings until I discovered a door. I entered swiftly, slamming it shut behind me, hoping for a respite from the impending danger.

Desperately trying to catch my breath, I pleaded, my voice trembling with fear. “Please! I’m sorry! I… I’m okay! I don’t need you to be here! I am sorry! I… I am sorry. Is it…? But why? Am I Truly that horrible? Do I deserve this? Am I someone deserving of such persecution? I don’t know if this is an appropriate reaction. I felt… I felt calm. I felt you… not forgive but… pull. I felt you were tired. Is forgetting not the same as forgiveness? At least in the context of natural and divine law. That this offense is dropped, and I can go home. Ha! Home! Home?! What does that mean? You sent me away! You… you sent me away…”

As I poured out my confused thoughts, the sound of thunder rumbled once more, causing me to tilt my head in bewilderment. Suddenly, footsteps reverberated on the stairs, their weight shaking the room with each thunderous stomp.

“No. I don’t want to be here. I want to go. Send me away again. Please. Let that be it. Send me away,” I pleaded desperately, my voice tinged with desperation. Yet, my confusion intensified as I heard the familiar sound of thunder, and I took a step back.

“Mom? This isn’t you. Dad? Why?” I crouched against the wall next to the door, my trembling hand pressed against my forehead, trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding around me.

In an instant, a claw tore through the door, shattering any semblance of safety. My scream pierced the air, echoing my terror. The Kabiri burst through the door, their presence undeniable. I attempted to crawl away, but it was too late. The Kabiri seized me, their grip unyielding, sealing my fate within their grasp.

HOME

The lakeside lay sweeps, consumed by fire, with lifeless trees as witnesses. The sky bore an otherworldly hue, unlike any place on Earth I had ever seen.

The Kabiri held me captive, gripping my limbs tightly, suspending me above the ground. I fought with all my strength, my feet, head, and forearms flailing, but my struggles proved futile.

I attempted to maintain my screams, but I found myself in a desolate realm where no one could hear me, and the Kabiri remained indifferent. They carried out their master’s will, leading me into the waters of Acherusia Lake for the cleansing.

Their hands descended, attempting to submerge me. The cold sting of the water elicited an unintended reaction, granting me a momentary respite from their grasp.

Momentarily released, I seized the opportunity to resist, bringing my head above the water’s surface. Yet, it became a harrowing struggle as the Kabiri redoubled their efforts, pushing me back down into the depths. They succeeded in submerging my head, and I fought against the suffocating pressure.

The two of them, united in strength, kept me submerged. I fought to hold my breath, but the desperate struggle drained me. I was compelled to open my mouth, gasping for air that eluded me. The water engulfed me, and I succumbed to its suffocating embrace.

After what felt like an eternity, the struggle ceased. The Kabiri emerged from the water, leaving me motionless in its wake. The water grew calm, mirroring the serene reflection of the moon upon my face.

Am I finally somewhere…? A home? My eyes opened.

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The Thomas Guide

The Thomas Guide

  1. Sneak out of the house
  2. Find out where he is being held
  3. Take him somewhere safe and quiet
  4. Break his fucking heart

Should I feel bad about this? My sister said it is concerning that I even have to ask that question but really I feel nothing. I know from movies and television that this is supposed to be a horribly difficult thing. But in reality, I find myself with a certain lack of emotion. 

Thomas had always been kind and a gentleman, although I will say that he was painfully boring at times and quiet to the point there were times on dates that I would forget he was there. My friends had jokingly accused me of freeing myself up for the more politically available men. And I know it was jokingly but something about it still stung like an insult. Far from their intention I know but I always told myself that I would not be the type of woman to leave one man for another. Not to mention Thomas is not exactly responsible for his family’s political beliefs.

I think the very fact that I am going out of my way to break up with Thomas in person would show how caring and compassionate I am. So take that, Bitches! Now onto step one. 

Step 1:

“Rebecca!” I could hear my dad calling me from downstairs. 

I exited my room towards our double staircase. I looked over the railing and I saw my dad with a number of his friends and their families – more specifically their young sons… Now I know why my mother was adamant about Sarah and I looking ‘pretty’ today. 

“Rebecca, your mom has been calling for you.”

I hurried to the back patio and saw my mother and Sarah preparing hors d’oeuvres. I rolled my eyes and said quietly as I passed behind Sarah. “Does she really expect us to wait on these people?”

Our mother had us. 

She said in her mannish voice, “The people in charge, you mean?”

“At least they are cute.” 

She rolled her eyes at me.

“By the way, I need your help with something.”

“What is it this time?”

“I need to sneak out.”

“We are having a party tonight.”

“I know. I need to see Thomas though.”

“He is a political prisoner! You were just talking about how there were going to be cute guys here tonight.”

“I’m going there to break up with him.”

“Wow… you are disgusting.”

“I’m doing this to not be disgusting. Look, I even have a plan! I’ll pretend to get really sick and run upstairs. You tell mom I’m vomiting and don’t want to be seen by any of the guys. That gets her off our backs, and dad couldn’t care less about setting me up.”

“I’m not helping you with this. Too many times I have covered for you to see Thomas, now this?”

Fine. I don’t need her. I don’t need anyone’s help. Ever. 

It was dark by 8:00 that night. I knew I had to get this through quickly to be back in time. I spotted boy number one and casually stood next to him to get a drink. 

“That’s a tall glass you are pouring yourself,” he remarked. 

“It’s only punch.” 

“That should keep you satisfied for a while.”

“I see what you are getting at… and maybe… but I need a favor. I need to step out.”

“Favor? I don’t even know your name yet.”

I fight off the urge to gag and respond, “I don’t know yours either.”

“Fernando.”

“Rebecca. Now that favor? People will ask where I’ve gone and you say I just really really needed to go to the restroom.”

“I can do that.”

“Perfect.”

I stepped away and as soon as I could tell he wasn’t looking I found boy number two. I didn’t want to waste my time. “Hi, I’m Rebecca,” I greeted with an outstretched hand. 

He shook my hand saying, “Oliver.”

“Oliver. Oli, I need a big favor. I’m going to go to the restroom and then step out someplace private for a big phone call. Do you mind letting my dad know if he asks? He is very protective and I just don’t want him to worry.”

Easy enough. And now boy number three, Gus. The only one here I actually know. He was the quiet kid in class and it was always unclear to me but I think he was friends with Thomas. “Gus!” I greeted him with excitement and gave him a big hug. I could tell he was confused and he awkwardly patted me on the back. “Gus, I need a favor.”

“Hi, Rebecca, what’s the favor?”

“Oh Gus it’s a really awkward situation but I am going to go to the restroom and then take a phone call, but I really want to be alone for a while. After all that, I am going to take a walk around the neighborhood to clear my head and have my phone on Do Not Disturb. Give me your number so I can pick up your call when people are freaking out.”

“Why would they be freaking out?”

“My dad worries a lot.”

He looked at me with suspicion. “Do you know where they have them?”

“What?”

“Thomas and all the other Marians.”

“I…”

“The gym. They have them at the gym.”

“You should go quick.”

I looked at him with disbelief. 

“Go! Tell Thomas… tell him I’m sorry.”

Step 2:

See end of Step 1.

Step 3:

The school wasn’t that far away. Just a few months ago I thought I was saying goodbye to this place forever. It was an exciting day in February when my dad came home from work and said we didn’t have to finish the semester and had my high school diploma under his arm. I was really starting to become nervous about my semester grades, so I welcomed the news entirely. 

I walked to the far side by the entrance to the gym. There I saw Anthony. I personally consider him much luckier than me when it comes to this. He had god awful grades and was widely known as the school dealer. He now served as a guard for the Sullists. I approached quietly and gave an unintentionally loud “PSSST!” 

He spotted me behind the car that had been parked in the same spot for all of high school. He lowered his rifle.

“Anthony, it’s me, Rebecca.” I walked towards him.

“What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Cool your shit. I just need five minutes. I need to talk to someone.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

Of course you can. Just open the door you idiot! “Please Anthony,” I started to fake cry. “I’ll give you all the money I have, I just need to see him.”

“Rebecca…”

I stepped in close to him and put my hand on his chest and my head on his arm. “Please…”

Anthony looked around and said, “You can talk. Just for a minute. You better not be taking him out.”

“I would never risk my family’s lives for this.”

“Okay…”

The tricks I’ve learned.

Anthony opened the door to the gym and I saw hundreds in chains. Everyone was dirty and it looked like no one had been fed in quite some time. I spotted Thomas instantly. His curly bright blonde hair was now a dirty blonde and I could see matting like an ungroomed dog. I smiled, unnecessary but polite. “Thomas.”

He looked at me, but he didn’t smile. I wondered if this place had already broken him. He waddled up in his chains toward me. 

Anthony, sounding like an authority figure for once, “You got five minutes.”

I took Thomas’s hand and led him outside the door. He twitched in pain. I spotted the wire connecting his chains to one of four large poles in the middle of the room. But it gave him enough space that he could follow me to the side of the building.

Step 4:

“Babe,” he always called me, “what are you doing here?”

“Thomas…”

“I don’t get it. I thought we were done.”

“Thomas, I- wait what?”

“Our families are opposite sides, we can’t be together.”

“Oh, no it was. Wait a second, let me start over.”

“No, no starting over. Get the fuck out of here.”

“No. Okay, first off I told you to never cuss at me.”

“Who gives a fuck?!”

“Um, I do! I don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Thomas scoffed and took a step back. “You are all the same. You elitist Sullist. Just like your entire family. Get out of here already, we are done.”

When he said the word ‘family’ it stung. “You keep my family out of this.” That wasn’t enough. I slapped his arm once, then twice more. “You keep my family out of your filthy fucking mouth.”

“Yeah, ok, see. I am glad this happened. Your family is backing a tyrant. A tyrant! It makes sense. You are a tyrant too. A hypocrite. I know you want to think that you are some saint and am this sinner that was your little project. Gus always heard how you talked about me. I deserve far better than you.”

“Deserve better than me? Look at where I am and look at where you are.”

The emotion drained out of his face. “Yeah… I see where I am. I know that if you wanted you could probably save me but I don’t want that. I would rather be in there with them then out here with you. Those beautiful, kind people.”

“Beautiful? Have you seen them?” I wanted to mention the boys from the party but I bit my tongue.

“More beautiful than you.”

“Yeah, okay then. Go back inside and date one of those dirty Marians inside.”

He looked confused at first. “I am not leaving you for someone else, Rebecca. I am just leaving you.” Thomas took two good steps back. He looked at me for a moment then went inside. 

I felt an anvil fall on my chest. I tried lifting it off but I could not touch it. My hands passed pointlessly through this hellishly ethereal weight crushing, squishing, killing my heart.

I followed him. By the time I looked in, he was already mixed in the huddled masses. I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to cuss at him. I wanted to shout his name. I wanted him… I felt the tears swell and I turned away as quickly as I could, losing balance and almost falling. I stormed outside and ignored the shouts by Anthony. 

I got home and everyone was looking for me as I expected. I ignored the lectures of my father. I didn’t look at my mother as she tried to scold me. I stonewalled Sarah who at first tried to make jokes but then grew concerned. I didn’t speak until…

The Thomas Guide (REVISED)

  1. Find a way to see him.
  2. Make sure we are alone.
  3. Get him to fall in love with me again.
  4. Reluctantly take him back.
  5. Break his fucking heart.
  6. Watch him be executed. 
    , , , , ,
    0

    Broken Line

    It was in the desert, far from the city.  At night you could see the distant glimmering lights, but this was a smaller, more humble town that I walked through. The type of town that takes one back to the simpler days of the early 2000s. Now a few centuries later I strolled through the swap meet admiring the various items with no intention to participate in the affairs of these simpler merchants, but unbeknownst to me, I was being followed. 

    My parents raised me well. They were smart, but they told me I was even smarter. Sometimes when I watched tv, I’d marvel at the stupid protagonist being outsmarted in some crime drama.  I’d scoff when he, on occasion, fell into the simplest of traps. I always said, “That would never be me. I am not that stupid.” That was when I was a child. As an adult, it would seem that I kept the arrogance and pride but not the intelligence.

    A shiny necklace caught my eye. For a moment I thought about how nice it would be if I had someone to buy it for. A wonderful wife to spoil. Blinded by this fantasy I reached for it but I touched the flesh of another. My eyes sailed from her fingers on the necklace up her arm and finally came to rest on such a remarkably pretty face. 

    “Oh! Sorry…” she said. 

    “No, I am sorry. Please, go ahead.”

    “It’s a nice piece. For your girlfriend?”

    “My mother. Her birthday is this weekend.”

    “How thoughtful. What’s your name?”

    I don’t often do it, but I wanted to see if she would be impressed so I gave her my full name, “John Okaigo.” I felt like royalty. I have never met a person not impressed by my last name. She smiled but the name seemed lost on her. I added, “Pretender to the throne. The High King.” She batted her eyelashes.

    We talked for a while. She was shy and every time someone looked at us I silently thanked them for not shouting reverence to me. But now I wonder if shyness was merely a plot to entice me to the point I would hardly notice when she led me down an alleyway. She turned around smiling while still walking away. I smiled back just as two men grabbed me and a third put a bag over my head.

    They removed the mask. I was on my knees surrounded by this band of criminals, one with a gun pointed at my head. Behind them were the ruins of a city destroyed a hundred years ago. In front of them, carved into a rock was a mausoleum. it had been damaged and at parts where the rock was blasted off I could see bits a hard steel wall.

    “Do you know what this is?” A man in glasses spoke.  “Of course you do. Who around here doesn’t? It used to be a civic center. But it was turned into a grand tomb. Your forefather went mad in his final years. The great High King Sani Okaigo. He reshaped this land back in the 21st century. But he wanted to be here even after his death. Securing his legacy. But he took everything with him when he died. The wealth of a nation. And then that nation died.” 

    I knew this story along with everyone I had ever met. I made sure of it. “You are mad at me for him?” I spat back. 

    The bastard struck me across the face. “We’ve been watching you for some time. This family. You are his heir, you know. A direct line. Now we need you.”

    I can’t truly say if my eyes welled from the strike or the threat of death. “Are you going to sacrifice me?”

    He scoffed. “Show him.”

    Another stepped forward and wiped away dust and sand from a metal panel. Suddenly, he was targeted by a dozen lasers. 

    Then an old and electronic voice spoke, “No biological match detected, only the true living heir to Okaigo will enter.”

    “You are going to open that for us. Get up.” He pulled me to my feet. “Don’t worry. We won’t kill you. Can’t take any chances with this bullshit.” He shoved me forward.

    I took my first few steps fine. But as soon as I was in the shadow of this complex megalith carved into hundreds of years ago and infused with high technology, my body began to tremble. 

    I quickly forgot the grave robbers existed and for a time it was only me approaching my forefather. This grand untouchable being that I had only heard stories of. A near deified icon that I had a personal connection to. A school boy with stage fright, I struggled taking another step towards the stage.

    My heart beat harder than when I followed that girl or when I thought I was going to die a mere minute ago. I was approaching the father that I had always wanted to meet and was torn between intimidation and that longing for approval. It was finally here. My moment of recognition was finally here. I could leave this place and take my seat among the proper aristocracy and nobles. I would mingle with my Romanov and Selassie brothers waiting to be invited back to reclaim our thrones.

    I made it to the panel. Butterflies fluttered. My throat tightened.  I could not speak. My eyes filled with water. 

    I put my hand on the panel and used the tiny bit of air in my mouth to whisper, “Okaigo.”

    The sudden sound of metal moving startled me and I remembered the men with guns. The lasers scanned me. It was him. It was King Sani. 

    My mouth formed a smile unlike any I had ever experienced in his life. My facial muscles pulled hard but the smile forming in my soul was greater than anything I had ever experienced. 

    The old electronic voice spoke again, “No biological match detected, only the true living heir to Okaigo will enter.”

    It must have taken nearly a minute for what it said to dawn on me. A mistake. I touched the panel again. Nothing. I banged on it. Nothing. I stepped away then stepped back to retrigger it.

    The old electronic voice spoke again, “No biological match detected, only the true living heir to Okaigo will enter.”

    The grave robber asked, “Did you bring the wrong one?”

    I recognized the voice of the girl and she said, “No, this was him. We made sure of it.”

    “Damn bastard!” he exclaimed. 

    I turned and shouted, Shut your fucking mouth, you pathetic trash!” I turned back to the panel “Read me again. Read me again!!!” I punched the panel and it came out again and read him.

    The old electronic voice spoke again, “No biological match detected, only the true living heir to Okaigo will enter.”

    “Liar!!! I am your heir!”

    The grave robber said to the others, “Pathetic. Let’s go.”

    The grave robbers left. But I did not notice. I argued with this machine for hours. I got tired after a while. In me, grew that heartbreak of betrayal. An emptiness that cannot even produce tears. I sat there with my eyes half opened until night came and still until the sunrise. 

    A zombie I walked down the street of that same marketplace. One even older than the High King Sani. One, stories say, existed during the time of the Wise Kings of Okaigo, ancient to even Sani. 

    I muttered to myself over and over, “Okaigo… Okaigo… Okaigo…”

    I eventually made it home. A humble house, where my mom was on the living room couch. 

    She got up and said, “John, where have you- John, child, are you okay?”

    Hearing her voice reminded me of what the grave robber said. I slowly turned to her. “…bastard…”

    She was offended. “Excuse me?!”

    I looked down and knew that it would be a sin but this insult was not directed at her. This one.

    “Not you… Me… I am a bastard. An actual bastard.”

    She replied, “No, you are not. Your father and I were married.”

    “Is he my father?” My anger grew. I thought about striking her. Is she lying about who my father is? I was raised an Okaigo by my dear father. But what did I owe her? It is clear. If she claims me as a son then she lied about who my father is. And how could this woman betray such a noble and virtuous man as the descendant of the High King Sani. “Did you not have an affair?”

    She slapped me, hard.

    I was taken aback by this. She had never hit me before. This woman who thinks she can humiliate such a holy line of men. Rage fueled my tired body and I could see the eyes of that great warrior from whom my father told me I was descended. Through his righteous anger he made right this land and I grabbed my mother by the throat. I pressed her against the wall and spat at her, “Adulterer!!! I am not an Okaigo.”

    My mother squeaked out, “I swear to you. You are mine and your father’s.”

    I couldn’t do this to my mother. Despite the fact how much I hated her in that moment. Although, walking away from her still breathing took a strength I didn’t know I had. Over the next week I took a hair from her and I visited my departed father’s mother, nne nne Ruth, and paid to have the DNA tested. I was my parent’s son.  The anger against my mother diminished only slightly. 

    She would not see me anyway and I was forced to stay with my nne nne. I asked her about the Okaigo and she went on long stories about the deeds of our supposed ancestors and I would not break this woman’s heart. Instead I wrote down everything she said as gospel truth until I felt I had enough. Then it was time to find where it became corrupted. 

    I looked at a family tree I had created. I looked across everything. Then I started doing individual research on specific people. 

    At first I Googled Okaigo and the first news that popped up. It read “Head of the Okaigo family, dead at age 47. Ayuba Okaigo, is survived by his wife and step-daughter.” 

    The grave robbers did their research as well. I wonder if they were the ones who killed them then had to go to me. 

    Next I read about Kabir Okaigo, a war hero. Halfway between me and the High King. He had a memorial. A statue. A body buried underneath. 

    I want to do things properly this time. I made a request to the city of Okaigo to have his body exhumed for scientific research. I was denied. Then I wrote a personal email pleading as his descendant to have it done. It was still denied. My ancestor’s body did not belong to his family anymore, it belonged to the state. This angered me. I took a pickaxe and a shovel. 

    I arrived at the war memorial during the day to see if I had what I needed. I looked up at the depiction of Kabir on a horse reared on its hind legs as done when they die in battle. An inscription reads: I came from my father’s sword to tear the steel forged. 

    I waited until Remembrance Day. Everyone would be in for the night. I was bold enough to start at dusk and tore into the ground with the pickaxe. Then when I passed the concrete and marble I went in with the shovel. I struck his coffin on the top making a dent. I tore it open with a ferocity they said he had in battle. I knew I would be related to this one. I must be. I stepped into the coffin and saw a corpse in full military garb. He wore the patch of our family on his chest. 

    I stepped between his legs and knelt on his chest. I pulled some decrepit remains of flesh from his finger and arose. I nodded to him and stepped out. I covered the rest of the coffin. 

    The next morning I visited a lab that I had spoken to before asking about a paternity test. I handed off the vial of remains I pulled from Kabir to an emotionless worker. I pulled out my phone and started reading through emails. I saw one from the library titled: WAS THIS YOU???

    I clicked on it and saw an image of the opened coffin. I scrolled down more and saw a previous message: “I found some documents that you might be interested in since you are doing research on your ancestor.

    “A letter from when he was captured believed to contain some code, Kabir to his father, Innocent. ‘Father, they know who I am and expect a ransom. These are not the devils of the enemy but senseless raiders taking advantage of the opportunity. I promise you that when you release me, we will continue our crusade against the true enemy. Though I have their blood, you are my father and you rescued me from their abuses. I will return home and do unto them what they have done to you and our people (for Okaigo are my people now) and we will have victory in the name of peace.’”

    Their blood? 

    I opened up another document. “Innocent Okaigo, wounded in action. An IED explosion leaves shrapnel all over the lower body. Sister Charity leaves the peace conference in India early to see her brother.” 

    I found myself in India, two weeks later. I was a descendant of Kabir but Kabir was adopted. An orphaned war baby which Innocent had taken in after the IED left him unable to reproduce. I was still so disappointed by Innocent. I was so hurt. Kabir chose to take his name. I even had the document of adoption and no original name was listed. He wanted so badly to be an Okaigo that he fooled his descendants for generations. 

    And now here I stand in front of the modest house of Mohan Das with that adoption document I printed out still in my hand. I put it in my back pocket. 

    I had followed Charity, the only other line. The second to last truly famous generation. And it brought me here. A distant cousin of mine and the most direct line, the most direct descendant of High King Sani Okaigo. 

    I waited for Mohan to get home and I snuck up behind him and put a bag over his head. I injected him with a sedative and took him on a private jet rented with nearlyI nearly the last of my money. He came to a few times and I re-injected him. That is until we were on the road to old Okaigo. We passed  through the desert that separated the modern city from the ancient one.

    He, at first, instinctually thrashed about. I didn’t. I was calm. 

    “It’s alright, cousin. Do you speak… No of course you don’t. You are trash. A forgotten line faded into obscurity. Do you know any languages? English?”

    Mohan replied, “Yes, yes. I speak English…”

    “Good, good. Don’t worry. You aren’t in any danger. We are family, and you don’t hurt family.”

    “We are family?”

    “Yes, Albeit distant family.  But family. Your mom’s grandma’s mom’s side. Traces back to here. Back to Okaigo. I don’t know if you know too much about the Okaigo Royal family. During the era of Reorganization, I believe to you it would be called the age of African Revolutions or New Revolutions, there were a number of kingdoms arising. There was a great visionary who became High King. And he is responsible for the stability of modern day Okaigo. And you see that over there? That large rock? That is the entrance to his tomb, it used to be a civic center until he went senile. We are going in.”

    “Why are we going in?”

    “Why not? You… you are his heir.” The pain in those words. Having to say them to someone else.

    We arrived at the entrance and I dragged Mohan out of the car. I took the mask off his head and unbound him.

    “Go towards that panel and it will let you in.”

    Mohan looked at me afraid. In his fear, his self preservation kicked in and he thought to bargain. “No. I don’t know what will happen.”

    “It’s harmless. Trust me. I had been up to it before.”

    Mohan remained in place.

    “Fine. Don’t try anything though because I have the keys.”

    I walked up to the panel and touched it. The scanners came down and did their thing.

    The old electronic voice spoke again, “No biological match detected, only the true living heir to Okaigo will enter.”

    I walked back over to Mohan, “See. Nothing. Open it… Now.”

    Mohan stood up, afraid and unsure. He shuffled through the sand. 

    “What are you doing, brother? This is a great moment for you. I know you are afraid but this is a glorious thing. How long has the High King Sani Okaigo been waiting for his heir to return?”

    Mohan shuffled up to the panel and said, “I don’t want this… I don’t want this! I am Indian. I don’t care about Okaigo, or an ancient king or Africa!”

    I ran up to him fast and shoved him against the wall. He tried struggling and fighting back but one good punch put him into submission. During this his hand accidentally triggered the panel and the sensors came out. I stepped back and they scanned him up and down. 

    The old electronic voice spoke again, “Biological match detected, the heir to Okaigo has returned.”

    The doors rumbled and opened. I looked at them and saw how thick and full of devilish wires aimed at taking down grave robbers. I am not a grave robber though. 

    I exclaimed, “It worked! It’s opening! We are the first to see beyond those doors since the death of King Sani.”

    Mohan asked, “It is done? Can I go now?”

    I looked at him with disgust, “Heir. Haven’t you heard the tales of what’s inside? All for you, heir!”

    Mohan, “Like I said I don’t care about that. You should have done it yourself…”

    This hit me hard. I felt the emotions coming up again.

    Mohan, “Why didn’t you though?”

    I tried to cover my embarrassment towards the man I had been calling family. I knew it was a deceptive lie but I felt more comfortable in that lie. 

    I replied, “It needed the heir.”

    Mohan, “You said we were family. But when it scanned you it said no biological match detected.”

    I felt the world, I felt the pain of gravity keeping us to this disgusting amount of chaos. I felt the embarrassment of every time I said my name. I felt the betrayal of my family. I felt a good life that was promised was completely empty. I should have been that man in obscurity with a basic last name that belonged to thousands of others. He should have been everything I was. But…

    “You don’t even care do you?” I stepped towards him. “I lived my life on the stories I was descended from the great High King, the uniter of our nation. I was one descended from legendary kings in ancient Africa! One whose family others told stories of as they were the great heroes who defend us! And you are nothing. I am a child of Okaigo, not you, Indian!”

    I grabbed him with both hands by the throat and I fell on him. He struggled greatly as I strangled him but this was not the true line! This was not a child of Kabir who tore down the weapon factories of the enemies single handedly. Look at this, High King!

    Mohan stopped moving sometime before I let go. I turned and saw the scanners were pointed at us. When I looked at them they moved. Suddenly the doors slammed shut. 

    The old electronic voice spoke again, “The heir to Okaigo is dead. This is unforgivable and will be punished.”

    I shouted at it, “No! NO!!!! You asshole! Sani, you prickly crazy old fuck! Why am I not your heir? I was there! I was raised believing it. Kabir was as great as Innocent! My father was greater than you!”

    I started pulling out those folded up papers in my back pocket. I threw the letter between Kabir and Innocent at it. I threw the adoption papers at it. I threw the paper showing I was Kabir’s descendant at it. I finally took out the keys to the car and cut open my hand and I threw my blood at the panel. 

    I broke down in tears. I looked down at Mohan, the man who wasted one of the greatest gifts in the world. He could have been a king.

    The old electronic voice spoke again, “Records confirmed. Lineage accepted. Current heir shifted, John Okaigo.”

    The doors started whirring. Then they stopped.

    “Access denied. John Okaigo, kinslayer.”

    0

    Pawn

    Austin woke up standing, stark still, staring into a dusky horizon. He was in a dark field with individual blades of grass each around eight feet tall which gave Austin an unfamiliar feeling of being small. The grass was all around him except for the small clearing he was in. Austin felt a pain in his hand. He looked down and saw he was gripping a sword. Without warning, a figure in a full metal suit attacked. Austin gave two lucky panic blocks, one on the left and one on the right. 

    Austin tried to shout, “Stop!” but his throat could produce no voice. Questions ran through Austin’s mind: What’s happening? Who is this person? Where am I? How did I get here? The figure gave Austin no time to do anything other than defend. Austin ducked but a metal boot to his knee laid him onto the ground. Think, Austin, think! Is there a way you can reason with this man? How did you get here? Remember anything you can. 

    He remembered going to school that morning. It had been a cold winter morning. Thankfully, there was no wind. He saw his friend Colin before class and they texted each other from their separate math classes. They met up again for lunch, but from there, Austin could not remember anything.  

    Think, damnit! 

    Austin’s eyes adjusted and he could see the dark attacker a little clearer now. It was in a metal suit whiter than classical knights but nonetheless it is in a knight’s suit.  Its head was cloaked in darkness still.

    Austin tried to think again of the morning.  Colin had gone over to another table at lunch with some other friends to talk to the gamers.  “Gamer nerds,” they were called by most of the students. Colin smiled and laughed easily with them as they talked about video games. Then things had changed. Colin knew what each of them were insecure about and exploited it like Alex’s weight and Nathan’s nose. Even Derek, whose insecurities no one really knew, was easy prey for Colin. Austin did have some things on Derek. He saw him shove the crippled girl. And there was that time he ran over that bunny. Austin ignored the bullying. Derek did not seem to mind. He just stared blankly at Colin.

    Austin got up and stepped back. He tried to scream but his throat produced nothing but a weak and quiet croak. The knight continued forward. His sword was heavy but the knight’s sword looked like it weighed twice as much. Austin desperately blocked the swipes which are becoming increasingly more exhausting to block. The next blow could kill him. 

    But why? Why is he hurting me?

    The knight was strong and swift.  He was a warrior, unwinded, patiently wearing out the weaker opponent.  It was easy.  

    Austin could not help but panic.  His mind raced into memories still trying to make sense of his situation. 

    He remembered a boy named Ricky in middle school. Now, that was a real bully. He had really kicked Derek’s ass. Derek used to cry about it. Austin would watch along with everyone else. No one did anything. No one told on Ricky. That is until Ricky turned his attention to someone else. Ricky liked Ashley like most of the boys in class. But Ashley along with most of the girls in class liked Austin because he was nice and handsome. One of the girls left Austin an unsigned love note that Ricky had found in his math book then proceeded to find Austin at lunch and attack him. Ricky broke Austin’s arm. Ricky got expelled because Austin was too popular to be bullied. 

    The knight swung down three hard times and left Austin crouching. Anticipating the next blow, Austin rolled away. The ground was marble. It’s dirty, and large blades of  grass grow in between the square tiles. He looked up. The knight was advancing again. Austin looked back at the ground. Black marble tiles, then white tiles, then black. It looked like his grandfather’s checkerboard. 

    Colin had walked away from the “Gamer Nerds” table and had said terrible things just loud enough for Austin to hear. Austin cringed at his insults and knew that students nearby could hear Colin too and thought of him as the worst sort of bully.   

    Austin had always thought that he was doing Colin a favor by not telling him that others think he’s a mean-spirited bully. Colin complained loudly to cover, “Ugh, I can’t believe we already have another test today. Give us some fucking time to read the book! Am I right? Damn Mrs. S is an asshole.”   

    Austin was not even sure what book Colin was referring to since Colin did not bother to study,  Colin continued, “God! Derek looks so fucking creepy. He seriously looks like he is going to shoot up the school.” Austin could see Derek’s reflection in the stainless steel colonnades around the lunchroom tables. His cowlick stuck straight up.  His image was asymmetrical, but Austin recognized the glower. Derek is a little unstable. 

    Austin looked up. A change of plans. Go on the offensive. Austin swung wildly but his blow was blocked easily. He made a decisive thrust but was evaded. The knight punched Austin’s face so hard it knocked two tiles back. 

    Austin had often let Colin cheat off of him in junior high.  It was probably the only reason Colin was still in school. Austin thought he would start trying a little harder now in high school. Despite all of the help Austin gave, Colin never seemed to appreciate it. Austin was numb to him. 

    He remembered one afternoon talking to Derek. He remembered it was the first time he had seen Derek smile in some time. He was going on about how when people are dying their brains release a chemical making them basically dream while they are dying. The Ashley called him a freak and his smile faded and his face became bright red.

    Austin got up and started to run back to the fight but stopped. It finally occurred to him that he could run away. 

    Why did it take me so long? 

    He tried running through some of the tall grass but it would not move. It is not hard but his muscles do not want to work against it. He turned around. The knight lunged at him.  Austin barely moved out of his path in time. The sword tore through his shirt beneath the armpit. The knight withdrew the sword. Free to move, Austin only tripped over his own feet. He looked at the knight who walked towards him. Austin cringed and crawled away in horror.

    He did not remember much of what Derek had said after that and Ashley and Colin had left that conversation almost mid-sentence being bored. Austin followed. 

    The knight crept closer. Austin’s eyes were finally adjusted, but there was something else not right. The knight’s helmet was not a helmet. It was a large headpiece with a big round base where the head should be. It rose decreasing gradually in circumference and out again to a sphere on top.

    The final period of that cold winter’s day had been dull.  Another worksheet, fill in the blank. Colin wadded his up and tossed it at the back of Derek’s head.  The gray sky did nothing to dispel the boredom of class.   Austin tried to remember what it was they had talked about.  A party? Ashely’s scholarship? Colin’s dream car?  Maybe it had been their plans after high school.  What will they be? What was Austin going to be? He could not decide between a future as a lawyer or life as a professional football player. He dreamed of a full-ride scholarship to USC.

    Austin got up. He did not want to die. He unfolded from the crouch and threw himself furiously at the figure moving in for the kill.  He swung his own sword wildly, hacking and slashing with every ounce of strength he could muster. The figure blocked and blocked, then countered. Austin narrowly dodged. Austin stepped back and for a brief moment really looked at his enemy. His mind was unable to comprehend what it saw.  This was not a human. The headpiece does not make biological sense. There is no mouth, no nose, no eyes.

    Austin had joined in as Colin whispered insults and threw broken pencil pieces at the back of Derek’s head. 

    Ashley added, “He’s so ugly he should die.” Before long, she and her friends were talking about nail polish.

     Austin ignored them and did the busy work. Derek did not look well that day. Derek used to be more fun when we were young. We were buddies, We used to play catch. Austin tried to get Derek to join football with him but Derek refused. He remembered that he had joined the football team so he could be a leader, maybe be somebody to look up to. 

    I don’t know what happened to me. 

    The figure did not wait for Austin to catch his breath. He struck again and Austin lost ground. He tried to counter with swipes at the top of the headpiece but it merely made him vulnerable to a smack to the face with the hilt, a left jab to the stomach, and a kick in the shin.

    Think, Austin. You need a plan, a play. “Think smart,” Coach always says.  

    He ran into the open.  He felt secure with his athletic body.  He planted his feet strongly on solid ground. The figure moved towards him. Austin found that he can more easily block his opponent when he looks at his hands rather than the sword.  He struggled to anticipate the knight’s moves before he made them.  The knight was large and while quick was now seemingly more predictable.  Austin blocked and hacked at the figure, but he found he cannot compete with the speed and was growing increasingly tired. A punch fell him harder than ever before. He was knocked several feet back and onto the ground. The sword fell by his side.

    What else had happened that day? He did not do too much really.  He remembered that he hung out with Ashley right after school then Colin later in the afternoon.  He had eaten dinner then gone to bed. What else? What else? Remember! 

    Derek had not talked to him during dinner. Austin tried to talk to him, “Hey, everything okay? Do you know what time Mom and Dad are getting back? Want to watch a movie?” Nothing. Austin finished dinner alone and went to bed.

    The figure walked slowly towards him. Austin knew the knight intends to stab him through the heart this time. Why?!! The figure stabbed forward, but Austin’s sword deflected the stab into his shoulder. He screamed in pain. A real scream. A scream that echoed in the air. The figure swung its large metal foot around and kicked Austin in the head. 

    Austin remembered being woken up.  His bed was soaked with sweat.  He was terrified. His chest was wet. There was a shadow in his doorway. It walked toward him. In one hand was a large shadow. As he got closer the shadow in its hand became clear. It was Colin’s head! The shadow raised a knife but before he could swing his arm or duck to the left to defend himself, the figure stabbed him and…  

    Was he in the marble field or was he in bed? Which one was real? Austin realized that the field must be a dream. His body was only imagining this pain. He scurried away. He found he hardly had the strength to stand back up. Wait! If this is a dream, then is the other thing real? No, it cannot be. Who is in my room?

    He looked at the figure. The figure was not done with him. It dawned on him now that this figure was not a knight with a strange headpiece. The headpiece was a chess pawn. It was a humanized pawn. 

    Thoughts echoed in his head. Derek’s words about when the body dies, the brain releases a chemical that makes a person dream.   

    Maybe that’s what this is. The dream before death. Am I dead? He looked at the pawn as if it would answer him. Not dead but dying. 

    But why? It did not feel true, but Austin accepted that either he was really here or he was lying there bloody and poked full of holes in his bed while the last synapses in his brain fired and his heart came to a halt. Maybe death here will hopefully speed up the process. 

    He swung at the pawn a few times but was blocked.  Then the sword pierced his abdomen. He looked down at his bloody shirt. 

    This is too painful. Get it over with.

     He moved a few inches back without falling.  He looked at the pawn,  

    Just finish this. 

    The pawn withdrew the sword from his abdomen and then drove it into his heart. 

    Suddenly, the figure in his room was clear. Derek was standing above him with a knife in hand. But why? It had always been Colin and Ashley who degraded him. Austin felt no responsibility for his brother’s safety.

    Death did not come to Austin, not immediately. His body fell limp and the pawn let him slide off the sword. He landed on his back and the pawn dragged him away. The pawn leaned him against the grass. Austin could not move. He watched the other chess pieces come and he watched them play. Like Austin and Derek used to do.

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