The man trudged down the snowy slope of the mountain. Far away, he could see the spire of smoke and the dull glow the fires at his encampment made. He did not envy his family and friends who were warm, cold as he was. He had an appointment to keep….
He reached the shallow pit at the bottom of the valley. Taking care not to step on the massive bones, he slowly made his way to a sheltered part where a rock blocked most of the wind. Rubbing a few pieces of flint together over a pile of wood he’d brought, his mind drifted to the past.
20 years ago……
There was a huge celebration in the camp. After all 3 mammoths in a day was a huge catch for a camp of 15 people. The boy was very happy and proud that his father had been the one who had devised the trap. Now they dragged the exhausted mammoths to the centre on the camp. It was then he saw the 3rd mammoth. It was an infant. It stayed close to its mother as she was dragged up unceremoniously, tethered to two giant logs. It looked at him at the same time.
He didn’t know what made him do it. The boy’s father was not a emotional man, certainly not a sentimental one. But something about his son’s request had moved him. He gave in and the mammoth now belonged to the boy. No-one grudged him anything as the two mammoth they had just slayed meant food for at least 6 months. They were not selfish people.
His mother asked him what he was going to call his new pet. He thought a while and replied “Ken.”
Ken followed the boy everywhere. He even tried to sleep with him, but the boy’s mother stayed firm on that matter. Even so, he never was more than 10 meters away from the boy. They did everything together and the days evolved into years.
“You have to let him go now,” his mother told him. “Don’t worry, he’ll always be yours. Mammoths never forget.” As so Ken was free to go. With one last look at his savior and best friend, the mammoth ambled away into the valley.
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The sparks took their time to appear, but when they did, the fire crackled merrily. The man wrapped his blanket made of skin tighter around his body and tried to warm himself. As he stared into the leaping flames, he recollected a fire brighter than any he had ever seen. The winter the marauderers had come to their valley…..10 years ago….
The huts were on fire. There was screaming everywhere. They had taken the camp by surprise. The boy was roused by his father yelling. He instinctively grabbed a spear and ran out. He saw his father cornered by the leader of the bandits and 6 of his henchmen, hopelessly outnumbered. Screaming loudly, he too jumped into the fray though he knew it was hopeless. As he turned to face the leader, he saw a blur of a large shape rush past him.
The man next to the leader was thrown into the air. The mammoth turned to the others who panicked and ran for their lives. Their leader ad never informed them about a tame mammoth that belonged to the encampment. The leader raised his spear and thrust it at the mammoth. The boy screamed and flung his own spear at the leader. It pierced him squarely in the chest and he went down. But even as he did the boy knew he’d been too late. The spear had gone cleanly into Ken’s forehead. The battle was over.
As the boy rushed towards Ken, he turned to look at his best friend. He lifted him up with his trunk and placed him on his back. Then he ambled off, down the same direction he had ten years ago into the valley taking the boy along with him. At the bottom they reached a pit and there he placed the boy down. He turned around and looked at him. He raised his trunk to his forehead. And then he stepped into the pit and lay down as the boy began to weep. His eyes closed and the boy, weeping, ran up the valley back to the camp.
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Every year since then, the boy had come to the valley on the day of the battle. He would spend a few hours there and return. But this was the first time he had come at night. There had been a blizzard and it had slowed his descent down the valley.
As he sat near the fire, he heard a howl quite close to him. The wolves had come down the valley in search of food for the winter. And they had found it. They circled around him, waiting for his move. He grabbed a flaming brand and faced the largest of them, the pack leader. One of the wolves attempted a grab and the man struck his down with the log. The pack became more careful after that.
The man knew he didn’t stand a chance against these wolves. They were hungry and the cold made them desperate. And there were still five of them. Even making a dash for it might have ended it immediately. The leader took one step forward and bared his canines. The man waved the brand around fiercely, but he could see that it was not working anymore.
Suddenly the leader became very cautious. He howled into the night and stepped back. The rest of the pack looked around bewildered. The man strained to see what they were looking for in all the snow and sleet.
There was a blur as a large shape rushed past the man. The pack leader was flung up and then trampled upon. The rest of the pack fled in a cacophony of howls as Ken turned around and looked at the man. He then raised his trunk to the forehead, stepped into the pit and lay down. And as he closed his eyes, the man smiled….
His mother had been right all along.
……
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Mammoths never forget…………
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Ghost in the Attic
The ogre prowled the temple premises. He had an axe that also doubled up as a shotgun incase Sam turned up. It was highly unlikely that Sam would ring the doorbell but then you never knew. He was starting to relax when the ground erupted with a burst of machine gun fire and he was down on his back. Sam landed on him from the top of the temple, took out a rocket launcher and aiming it squarely at his face fired once…..
Satisfied at the gooey green splatters on the ground, Mike turned away from the PS2. Serious Sam 2 was the best thing that had ever happened to gaming, he thought. And cheat codes helped too. But then today, he could do whatever he felt like. It was his birthday after all. And not just any birthday either. His sweet 16th. How often does that happen to you? Not that he was expecting a lot of gifts. He had no-one in his family apart from his grandma, Martha. The rest had died in a car accident over 10 years ago. He had survived as he was strapped at the rear end of the SUV. He lived in their huge mansion with his grandmother at the very end of Wheeler Street. They got no visitors apart from Mike’s friends who played football in the grounds during summer.
Mike dressed up quickly and made his way to Jefferson High. His friends Neal and Jack were waiting at the steps for him. He grinned broadly as he walked up towards them. Suddenly he was lifted up and given 16 resounding thumps on his back. “Happy Birthday, sucker.” Watson screamed and put Mike down. “I could have managed with a handshake, you know” Mike said, smiling at the brute of a boy who had picked him up as if he was a 5 year old. Though he looked like a bouncer, Watson was the pussy of the group when it came to dare-devilry. It always took Mike, Neal and Jack ten minutes to convince him to come along. “So what’s the big deal today?”asked Neal.”Got anything planned?” “Not much,” admitted Mike. “I thought we’d go up my attic today to explore my place. My grand ma never lets me in there. Says there’s some ghost up there. I’ve never been there my entire life. What better day to do it, eh guys?”.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this, guys…..” Watson grumbled as they made their way up the drive that led to Mike’s house. “Perhaps his grandmother is right. What if there IS a ghost up there?” “Don’t be such a chicken, Watson!!” said Jack. “We’ve done much worse stuff that this before, remember?”
“I do and it doesn’t help!!!!” Watson retorted.
They entered the house and greeted his grandmother. She was on her rocking chair, humming something to herself. It was kind of spooky seeing her all alone by the lighted fireplace that cast shadows around the room. She smiled at them and her gold tooth glinted against the dancing flames.
“Hello boys… How nice of you to come see me on Mikey’s birthday. No-one visits old Martha anymore…”she said while nodding her head side by side. Somehow that nod was more creepy than amusing. Mike felt it was time to get his friends out of there before they all chickened out of going up the attic.
“We’re going upstairs, grandma ”he said. “I want to show my friends our attic.”
The old lady got out of the chair with surprising agility. “Don’t do that Mikey. I’ve told you a hundred times if I’ve told you once, there is a ghost up there. Why don’t you be a dear and listen to me? Go outside and play….”
“I’m 16 grandma….i can and will do as I like. And I want to go up there and see what it is you don’t want me to have a look at.”
Martha got back into her chair with a resigned look. She sighed heavily and resumed her humming. Mike took that as a cue for his exit. Only Watson did not look quite sure yet. “What kind of ghost, Martha?”
“It was thirty years ago…”Martha replied. “A burglar got in and killed a person up in the attic. The ghost haunts it ever since.”
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“Lot of cock,” said Jack. “ I don’t believe in ghosts and stuff like that. But I wonder who it was that the burglar killed. This house has belonged to your family for ages now…”
The attic was not much to look at. It was huge and the years of neglect has given it a thick coat of dust. They made their way through the storage rooms and came abreast a room that looked well-kept through the years.
It had an Oriental door that was closed. Neal gave it a push and it opened quite smoothly. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they could make out a rocking chair just like the one downstairs that Martha was sitting upon.
Jack went up and turned it around. As he did, he found it was heavy…..almost as if someone was sitting upon it….The chair turned to face them just as Watson threw open the window. The shriveled skin and the wide eyes were familiar……and the glint of gold in the mouth reflected the late evening sunlight. Martha’s body swung to meet them as Mike uttered a silent scream…………
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……………………………….
………………………………………….
From her rocking chair, Martha saw the boys rush downstairs wordlessly and run out into the grounds.
“My , my…”she said to herself. “ Those boys look like they’ve seen a ghost…….”
This story is dedicated to my dear friend Arif K. Hafeez. His poem 'Deadtime Story' inspired this storyline in a way. For creepy stuff that rhymes and much more...visit his blog at www.domeoftheduke.blogspot.com
Satisfied at the gooey green splatters on the ground, Mike turned away from the PS2. Serious Sam 2 was the best thing that had ever happened to gaming, he thought. And cheat codes helped too. But then today, he could do whatever he felt like. It was his birthday after all. And not just any birthday either. His sweet 16th. How often does that happen to you? Not that he was expecting a lot of gifts. He had no-one in his family apart from his grandma, Martha. The rest had died in a car accident over 10 years ago. He had survived as he was strapped at the rear end of the SUV. He lived in their huge mansion with his grandmother at the very end of Wheeler Street. They got no visitors apart from Mike’s friends who played football in the grounds during summer.
Mike dressed up quickly and made his way to Jefferson High. His friends Neal and Jack were waiting at the steps for him. He grinned broadly as he walked up towards them. Suddenly he was lifted up and given 16 resounding thumps on his back. “Happy Birthday, sucker.” Watson screamed and put Mike down. “I could have managed with a handshake, you know” Mike said, smiling at the brute of a boy who had picked him up as if he was a 5 year old. Though he looked like a bouncer, Watson was the pussy of the group when it came to dare-devilry. It always took Mike, Neal and Jack ten minutes to convince him to come along. “So what’s the big deal today?”asked Neal.”Got anything planned?” “Not much,” admitted Mike. “I thought we’d go up my attic today to explore my place. My grand ma never lets me in there. Says there’s some ghost up there. I’ve never been there my entire life. What better day to do it, eh guys?”.
“I don’t have a good feeling about this, guys…..” Watson grumbled as they made their way up the drive that led to Mike’s house. “Perhaps his grandmother is right. What if there IS a ghost up there?” “Don’t be such a chicken, Watson!!” said Jack. “We’ve done much worse stuff that this before, remember?”
“I do and it doesn’t help!!!!” Watson retorted.
They entered the house and greeted his grandmother. She was on her rocking chair, humming something to herself. It was kind of spooky seeing her all alone by the lighted fireplace that cast shadows around the room. She smiled at them and her gold tooth glinted against the dancing flames.
“Hello boys… How nice of you to come see me on Mikey’s birthday. No-one visits old Martha anymore…”she said while nodding her head side by side. Somehow that nod was more creepy than amusing. Mike felt it was time to get his friends out of there before they all chickened out of going up the attic.
“We’re going upstairs, grandma ”he said. “I want to show my friends our attic.”
The old lady got out of the chair with surprising agility. “Don’t do that Mikey. I’ve told you a hundred times if I’ve told you once, there is a ghost up there. Why don’t you be a dear and listen to me? Go outside and play….”
“I’m 16 grandma….i can and will do as I like. And I want to go up there and see what it is you don’t want me to have a look at.”
Martha got back into her chair with a resigned look. She sighed heavily and resumed her humming. Mike took that as a cue for his exit. Only Watson did not look quite sure yet. “What kind of ghost, Martha?”
“It was thirty years ago…”Martha replied. “A burglar got in and killed a person up in the attic. The ghost haunts it ever since.”
………..
………………..
……………………….
“Lot of cock,” said Jack. “ I don’t believe in ghosts and stuff like that. But I wonder who it was that the burglar killed. This house has belonged to your family for ages now…”
The attic was not much to look at. It was huge and the years of neglect has given it a thick coat of dust. They made their way through the storage rooms and came abreast a room that looked well-kept through the years.
It had an Oriental door that was closed. Neal gave it a push and it opened quite smoothly. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, they could make out a rocking chair just like the one downstairs that Martha was sitting upon.
Jack went up and turned it around. As he did, he found it was heavy…..almost as if someone was sitting upon it….The chair turned to face them just as Watson threw open the window. The shriveled skin and the wide eyes were familiar……and the glint of gold in the mouth reflected the late evening sunlight. Martha’s body swung to meet them as Mike uttered a silent scream…………
……………………….
……………………………….
………………………………………….
From her rocking chair, Martha saw the boys rush downstairs wordlessly and run out into the grounds.
“My , my…”she said to herself. “ Those boys look like they’ve seen a ghost…….”
This story is dedicated to my dear friend Arif K. Hafeez. His poem 'Deadtime Story' inspired this storyline in a way. For creepy stuff that rhymes and much more...visit his blog at www.domeoftheduke.blogspot.com
Teacher's Pet
“And here kids,” said Mrs. Peters, as she turned towards the blackboard where a huge map of the world was hung, “ is the route the Spanish took to come to Central America…” She winced as a piece of calk hit her squarely in the small of her back. She needn’t have snapped her head back quickly. Shane made no effort to hide his crime as he openly grinned at her. Shane’s father sat on the board of the university and the school, and he thought this gave him diplomatic immunity of some kind.
“Will you approach my table, Shane?” she snapped.
He came up walking slowly, grinning at the kids around him. Coming to halt in front of her chair he sneered up insolently as if to say ‘What?’
“500 lines Shane or it will be detention. And it WILL be detention if you ever do that again. I shall not stand up to this insolence of yours.”
“Alright…” he drawled. “You don’t scare me….”
“And you shall hand them in at my house on Saturday by 5 in the evening” she continued as if he hadn’t uttered a word.
…………
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………………………….
He rang the doorbell. She opened the door and asked him to come in. It was weird seeing her in her causal attire, Shane thought. He was accustomed to the prim, neat teacher-attire on her.
“Sit on the couch Shane,” said Mrs. Peters. “Have you done with the lines?”
“Yes Ma’am”
“Good. Hand over the book and let me see them. Would you like something to drink?” she asked him.
“Yes, please ma’am.” It had been a long bicycle ride and he was thirsty.
She went into a room he presumed was the kitchen. He took a look around and gave a start when he realized that he was sitting next to a cocker spaniel that seemed to be staring right at him. As he stared back he realized it was a stuffed animal. He gave a sigh of relief. But those eyes seemed incredibly alive.
Mrs. Peters entered the room with some orange juice to find him staring at the dog.
“I see you’ve met Tom” she said. “ He died two years ago. I stuffed him because I couldn’t bear to be apart from him.”
“You did that?” he sounded incredible.”Its done really well.”
“Why…thank you so much Shane” she trilled. “Even Polly there is stuffed and so is Mrs. Bingles.”
Shane stared at the cat that was lying on the porch. The eyes were all he thought about. It was done too well to believe her.
“Won’t you meet Joel? My son…”she asked.
“You…you have a son? How old is he?” Shane asked.”And where does he study?”
“Had…he died of pneumonia a year ago” she said sadly, leading him up the stairs into a bedroom.
“But…but…but….” Shane stammered…as he stared at a boy about ten years old apparently fast asleep on the bed.
“I stuffed him too…”she said gravely. “ Its almost time for his lunch. Sit with him and I’ll be back.”
Though repulsed at the sight of the young boy lying dead and stuffed on the bed. Shane was drawn towards him by morbid fascination. He came closer to see the eyes but they were closed. Of course, he thought.
Suddenly the eyes opened and the chest heaved as Joel rose up and stared at Shane. Shane was too petrified to even say a word. Wordlessly Joel got of the bed and opened the cupboard. He took out a black football out of there. Shane saw that it had a pattern of skulls on it.
“Will you play with me?” he asked in a tinny voice….
Shane let out a yell and ran downstairs where Mrs. Peters sat fixing a lunch tray.
“Ma’am….your…your son just…just…” he spluttered out.
“Just what?” asked Mrs. Peters with no great concern with her back toward Shane.
Joel came down the staircase and lurched forward at Shane. “Mommy……!” he screamed.“Why won’t he play with me? Let us all play…” and he laughed his eerie tinny laugh.”
And as Mrs. Peters turned, Shane saw the flesh of her face hanging out into the dinner tray and her eyes popping out madly…..She opened her mouth and he saw yellow broken teeth as she boomed out…
“Of course he will, sweety, he’s my pet student….”she screamed. “Aren’t you, Shane?”
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“Wow” exclaimed Joel as he looked out of the window. “That Shane sure runs fast, mom!”
“Yes he does,” Mrs. Peters nodded her agreement as she peeled off the Halloween mask. “I think its coz we scared the devil out of him sweetums. Now get dressed and lets go return those stuffed animals next door.”
“Will you approach my table, Shane?” she snapped.
He came up walking slowly, grinning at the kids around him. Coming to halt in front of her chair he sneered up insolently as if to say ‘What?’
“500 lines Shane or it will be detention. And it WILL be detention if you ever do that again. I shall not stand up to this insolence of yours.”
“Alright…” he drawled. “You don’t scare me….”
“And you shall hand them in at my house on Saturday by 5 in the evening” she continued as if he hadn’t uttered a word.
…………
………………….
………………………….
He rang the doorbell. She opened the door and asked him to come in. It was weird seeing her in her causal attire, Shane thought. He was accustomed to the prim, neat teacher-attire on her.
“Sit on the couch Shane,” said Mrs. Peters. “Have you done with the lines?”
“Yes Ma’am”
“Good. Hand over the book and let me see them. Would you like something to drink?” she asked him.
“Yes, please ma’am.” It had been a long bicycle ride and he was thirsty.
She went into a room he presumed was the kitchen. He took a look around and gave a start when he realized that he was sitting next to a cocker spaniel that seemed to be staring right at him. As he stared back he realized it was a stuffed animal. He gave a sigh of relief. But those eyes seemed incredibly alive.
Mrs. Peters entered the room with some orange juice to find him staring at the dog.
“I see you’ve met Tom” she said. “ He died two years ago. I stuffed him because I couldn’t bear to be apart from him.”
“You did that?” he sounded incredible.”Its done really well.”
“Why…thank you so much Shane” she trilled. “Even Polly there is stuffed and so is Mrs. Bingles.”
Shane stared at the cat that was lying on the porch. The eyes were all he thought about. It was done too well to believe her.
“Won’t you meet Joel? My son…”she asked.
“You…you have a son? How old is he?” Shane asked.”And where does he study?”
“Had…he died of pneumonia a year ago” she said sadly, leading him up the stairs into a bedroom.
“But…but…but….” Shane stammered…as he stared at a boy about ten years old apparently fast asleep on the bed.
“I stuffed him too…”she said gravely. “ Its almost time for his lunch. Sit with him and I’ll be back.”
Though repulsed at the sight of the young boy lying dead and stuffed on the bed. Shane was drawn towards him by morbid fascination. He came closer to see the eyes but they were closed. Of course, he thought.
Suddenly the eyes opened and the chest heaved as Joel rose up and stared at Shane. Shane was too petrified to even say a word. Wordlessly Joel got of the bed and opened the cupboard. He took out a black football out of there. Shane saw that it had a pattern of skulls on it.
“Will you play with me?” he asked in a tinny voice….
Shane let out a yell and ran downstairs where Mrs. Peters sat fixing a lunch tray.
“Ma’am….your…your son just…just…” he spluttered out.
“Just what?” asked Mrs. Peters with no great concern with her back toward Shane.
Joel came down the staircase and lurched forward at Shane. “Mommy……!” he screamed.“Why won’t he play with me? Let us all play…” and he laughed his eerie tinny laugh.”
And as Mrs. Peters turned, Shane saw the flesh of her face hanging out into the dinner tray and her eyes popping out madly…..She opened her mouth and he saw yellow broken teeth as she boomed out…
“Of course he will, sweety, he’s my pet student….”she screamed. “Aren’t you, Shane?”
……………….
……………………………..
………………………………………..
………………………………………………..
“Wow” exclaimed Joel as he looked out of the window. “That Shane sure runs fast, mom!”
“Yes he does,” Mrs. Peters nodded her agreement as she peeled off the Halloween mask. “I think its coz we scared the devil out of him sweetums. Now get dressed and lets go return those stuffed animals next door.”
Monday, August 4, 2008
Today, of all days...
She hovered around the living room. He was almost 3 hours late now. He’d never been late in their 6 years of marriage. And today of all days. It was almost as if he’d done it on purpose. She heard his footstep on the portico. It wasn’t as jaunty as she heard it every single evening. But maybe he was just tired after a rough day at work.
He entered to find her lying on the bed. She looked beautiful as ever. He sighed and thought once more about what exactly he was going to say. “Happy Anniversary sweetheart….,”he sighed. “I’m sorry I’m late. I had to meet someone and she took longer than usual”. He could almost feel her stiffen although her body was under the bedcovers.
“She?”
“Yes honey. I think there is something we need to talk about. There’s someone else…Helen…from work. I think I’ve talked about her a couple of times to you. Don’t ask me why…I do not know. I only know that I love her like I’ve never loved in my life. And that though this is terrible timing, I felt I must be honest with you...at least today.”
“Well I really don’t know what to say….” Her voice trembled at the brink of hysteria. “How long has this been going on?”
“About a year now…listen Mary...I know this is a shock…but try to understand…this means a lot to me. Will you not meet her?”
“I really don’t think I should….perhaps it would be better if we just went to bed now and talked about this tomorrow with our lawyers present.”
“Please Mary…she’s waiting for us at my workplace right now. Let’s drive over and the three of us can talk things over. “
10 minutes later she was in her Porsche and they were speeding along 18th Mile. He seemed nervous to talk. Strangely, she was calm…almost as if she had embraced the inevitable. That’s what made him nervous.
“Do you remember the day you gave me this car John? How I dashed it against the tree while backing it into the garage? The look on our faces?”
“Yes, “he replied with a small smile.”That was some day huh…our second anniversary…”
“What went wrong John? What did I do wrong? Is she prettier that me? More sexy? Better in bed?” They’d come to a halt in the deserted parking lot of the building where he worked. It was almost 10pm and the guard was asleep at the other side of the building. He just continued to smile that small smile of his.
And then something snapped. She opened the glove compartment of the car and got out her Heckler and Koch Saturday night special. She cocked it and held it aimed at him. Her hand was steady as hell, he saw.
“Get out of the car. I’m going to end this…for all three of us. Take me to her now.”
Panicking, he got out, put on his coat. They walked into the deserted building. The elevator rose up to the 26th floor in silence. It pinged to a stop. They both got out. His office was at the end of the corridor. She been there only once before. To tell him she was pregnant. 3 months ago. He did look like an idiot standing there with his mouth open. It seemed like an eternity away.
He stood in front of the door and she stayed behind him. He knocked twice. And the door opened with a burst of light. And she pulled on the trigger while someone sang out “Happy Anniversary Smiths!!!!!!”
Today of all days…………………….
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The phone rang like a persistent alarm clock. At last Mary gave up ignoring it and picked it up.
“Hey…are you feeling alright?? You did drink way too much last night.”
“I’m fine,” she replied.”Just a blinder of a headache”
“Anyway...i just called in to check…take care”
“….and Helen…..thanks for calling up and telling me about the surprise party in advance…he was pretty convincing when he told me about your affair.”
“Why sure,” said Helen” what would you have done if it was true?”
“Me?” said Mary, looking at her John fast asleep next to her and the box of blank bullets at her side.”Why I suppose I’d have the shot the two of you. You take care too Helen…bye”
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