The Bone Cell

by Richard Futch

  “I pulled her suddenly to an abrupt halt when my head cleared momentarily. She turned on me with a seriousness I'd never seen before and attempted to tug me on. I didn't move. There was only one way inside the Church, I remembered that now. Through the broken roof. Impossible. I was already so out of it I could barely stand so I could only imagine how she felt. She leaned in close and hissed 'Hush up, you fool! The door's open a crack! Come on! The Men never closed it all the way when they left last time. Come on! Come on! We have to hurry!' And she pulled me hobbling and hopping through the tall grass and weeds up to the massive doors. Her story proved correct and in no time we were inside.

  “Of course her ledge was completely out of the question. Just by the look on her face, I could tell she was almost done. She did manage to get me down the long aisle to the pulpit where the oak was. Around the trunk I now saw a nice crack just big enough for either of us to squeeze through one at a time into the crawlspace below. We did so a few minutes later and quickly pushed back to a quiet, dark corner, and immediately fell asleep.

  Chapter 10: A Short Alliance

  “When I woke I had the distinct impression we were not alone. The feathers at the back of my neck were standing on end. I could feel another presence there with us in the darkness. Regardless, I didn't want to wake the mouse unnecessarily so I tried to lie still and quiet, telling myself it was just my imagination. And I'd almost succeeded when I saw it.

  “The scream caught in my throat at the many legs, the cluster of shining eyes hovering close by. The mouse started from deep sleep at my movement and I hushed her with my good wing across her face, whispering that our lives depended on silence even as the many-legged shadow inched our way! It had seen us! By this time the mouse was to her feet, and seemingly on instinct she stepped out in front of me as I whispered for her to make a run for it.

  “She simply shook her head and turned for battle.

  “When she spun around it was upon us: a monstrously huge spider, bristling with hooks of coarse black hair ridging the length of all its eight legs, its head crowned brilliantly with a nest of faceted, gleaming eyes. It was enough to strike one dead and the mouse fell back against me, suddenly realizing our fate was already written.

  “But nothing happened. Time dragged by several unbearable moments and behind my closed eyes my life raced. Another minute went by, and another! After what seemed like several lifetimes I managed to open my eyes and saw the monstrous shadow looming above us! It inched forward and, incomprehensibly asked in a hissing, though hardly evil voice, what we were doing in its lair.

  “I mumbled something about begging your pardon as the great head bobbed grotesquely in front of me 'Ssssssoooooooo,” it replied, rising up and shaking dust from its body.

  “'Are you going to kill us?' I asked.

  “'Of courssssssssssssse not. Your blood would sssssssssspoil long before I sssssssssucked the good out of you,' it said and made a sinister buzzing deep in its throat that sounded almost like laughter. 'I've jusssssst never ssssssseen you here before.'

  “I explained we'd been too tired to climb to the ledge, that we would be out of its way as soon as possible, as the great head ducked up and down, side to side. It admitted that 'yes' it had seen us there. Just never here. I shuddered to think of this great beast living so close and nobody the wiser. It backed away several shuffling steps.

  “'Don't be ssssssscared,” it said. 'I really have no interesssssssssst in you.' A scratching sound from the direction of the pews shifted the spider's attention. It growled low in its throat. “The cat'sssssssssssss back...' it warned and scuttled a few more steps away.

  “Good God! A cat! And a spider! And us trapped beneath the floor! There are not words to describe the terror!

  “I managed to wriggle free of the mouse and stumbled away from the corner. The spider was already a ways down toward where the tree had broken through the floor. The mouse hissed for me to stay put, but there was really no question now. I'd heard enough rumors. It was time to put a face to the monster. I sidled up alongside the spider as close as I dared. It turned its head toward me and backed farther into the gloom as I approached. Its breath was harsh and rapid. I raised up and looked through the opening.

  “Sharpening its claws on one of the pews in the middle aisle was a thing that made the spider seem a mere annoyance. It was indeed a cat, but it surpassed all stories. This thing was a dark black mottle of mangy fur, thinned in spots to red, angry flesh. Both its ears had been ripped to tatters and its head was misshapen, as if the devil himself had half-mashed it sometime in the past. Practically the size of a full-grown raccoon, its razor-sharp claws flailed away at the pew. And then I saw its back end. A waving shard of bone protruded from its rump, all the skin and hair ripped free from some atrocity. Now it stuck out hard and dirty, still performing as a tail though it had long ago obviously failed at that task.

  “I looked back in horror at the spider standing close by. 'Soooooooyouseeeeeeee,' it said in its hissing tongue. 'It comessssssssssssss.' And yes I could see. The beast had its head to the floor, steadily padding down the aisle toward our hiding place.

  “It smells us,” I said, suddenly realizing.

  “'Ssssssssssseemsssssssssso,' the spider answered, hunching down now and growling low in its throat again. The cat was almost to the first riser. Our crack happened to be in the third and we were already far too close to the entrance for safety. I backed away and squeaked a warning to the spider. Its only reply was another deep-chested growl. A chill rushed over me and I hurried back to the mouse. We squatted in the darkness, trying to make ourselves as small as possible in the midst of this terrible nightmare.

  “But I kept my eyes on the creature hunkered down there in the thin shaft of light. It was largely motionless though its legs did vibrate as if readying for a spring. Surely, I thought, it's not thinking of attacking! The cat was easily five times its size! Nevertheless, it began to rock back and forth, actually groaning now. A moment later a monstrous claw slid through the rent by the tree, scratching at the floor inches in front of the spider's foremost legs. And just before it pushed forward and the cat's ragged body blocked out the light entirely an ear-splitting scream filled our dark hiding place. There was a sudden flurry of violence near the opening, punctuated by brief slats of light that gave nightmare flashes to the surroundings. Then the shadows came apart and a second later neither the cat nor the spider was anywhere to be seen.

  “I searched the darkness, hoping to find the spider hunched somewhere nearby but it was no use. And it was as I bent to attend the horrified mouse that I heard the familiar, grating voice in my ear.

  “'Ssssssssothat'sssssssolved,' it said. I spun around. There was a smudge of blood in the dust. I looked into its face as it lowered its ponderous body to the floor. It did not appear hurt but there was the blood. I thought I heard the mouse mumbling something in the background and then realized it was the spider. 'Got'em, got'em,' it was saying over and over. I watched its razor-sharp fangs glint in the thin light and suddenly knew the blood I'd seen was not its own. Surely it hadn't bested the cat, or had it? It answered with the sound of steam escaping warm pipes in the winter. 'Cccccccertainlyssssssssssssso....' it said.

  “We stayed put until the sun went down. As the last gray light drained from the windows, and then as the purple shadows grew to cover the floor and walls, we sat and waited. Eventually the spider assured us the cat had gone, but we didn't take the news to heart. Too many legends surrounded the creatures. The spider laughed this off, saying it held no truck with such tall tales.

  “We finally dared to make our way to the shadowed crack in the riser. The spider scurried across the floor like some dusty cockroach and without another word was up and through to the other side. Scant moments later I heard its slippery voice assuring us, 'It'sssssssssssssafe, it'sssssssssssssafe.'

  “One at a time, the mouse and I squeezed through the opening. After a quick glance around I found the spider's massive shadow
lurking underneath a nearby pew. I smelled the air and came up with nothing. And I was just turning my attention back to the mouse when the racket started up behind me.

  “Something big hit the floor over where I'd seen our dusty friend and then a mad scrabbling ensued as what I found to be two opposing shadows locked together in a writhing mess. High shrieking howls and grunts knocked off the walls as the mouse and I scrambled for cover. There was a final rising wail and a terrific scuffle which followed and then nothing but a great, suffocating silence filled the space.

  “The mouse suggested frantically that we make for the crack in the wall. Since I had no real hope of reaching the ledge by flying, it was clear our only hope lay in her plan. Without another word, I hopped toward the crack, shooing her ahead with both wings. At the base of the wall I turned and took a moment to scan the darkness one last time. Not a single thing was moving. Then my courage broke and I raced with the mouse to safety.

  Chapter 11: Witness to a Kidnapping

  “The next morning I stood on the ledge, peering out into every corner of the Church. Where I thought the fight had started I could make out a small dark stain and what appeared to be a tuft of black hair underneath the pew. That was it. There was no other sign, and I'm sorry to say, to this day, that was it. I never saw the creature again. The cat, however, is another story, but one that will have to wait. Because at that very moment we heard the men approaching.

  “Within minutes they barged inside like a thunderstorm and I saw the Fat Man was missing. But the others did have two prisoners. A little girl and her father, it seemed. Straight away they knocked the man to the floor and laughed. One of them held a short length of rope that was tied around the little girl's waist. Her father lay there breathing in great straining gulps. The little girl wept. Every once in a while one or another of the men would kick the poor man where he lay. The whole thing made my skin crawl.

  “Leaving the prisoners to their current states, the men pulled away to talk among themselves in loud, but incomprehensible fits and starts. When they were finally finished the biggest one walked over to the man and forced him to his feet. The little girl was quiet and no longer crying. My heart burst for her, and even then I tried convincing myself that only by remaining quiet myself, and most importantly alive, could I have any hope of helping them. Much good that did.

  “The Big One demanded something of the man but got only a refusal. The poor girl's father got smashed several times in the face for his troubles, and being that I could take no more, I slunk back from the ledge and hunched down with the trembling mouse. The voices below got louder and louder. Several times I heard the dull thump of a kick. A couple more harsh yells. Then nothing. Dead silence. Time slipped by and I crept back to the ledge. They were silently gathering their captives together and leading them down the center aisle. Forcing them all the way to the pulpit, near where the tree grew through the floor, and then, as one, moving off into the shadows. Toward the door that led down into the tunnels. Though I couldn't see, I could hear someone wrestling the huge bolt on the door back, a few more mumbled curses, a sudden spark in the darkness and the room was awash in the flickering glow of a torch someone else had pulled out of a holder by the door. It cast mad, dancing shadows on the walls. Then they moved forward, again as one, dragging the man and his daughter off into the waiting darkness.

  Chapter 12: Getting Past the Door

  “The mouse and I puzzled over this problem the rest of the day. But to no avail. What could we do? All those men against just the two of us. They were gone a long while but when they did finally return they were not in their right minds. One straightaway passed out across a pew. Another clouted some unsuspecting fool across the face with the back of his hand and watched him go head over heels to the floor. As I watched, flinching with each blow, I couldn't help but notice their number short by one, the little girl's father. He was nowhere to be seen. She was crying again and it was just heartbreaking. Only when the sun began to set did they leave, the little girl calling for her father as she was pulled through the door and outside until her voice eventually faded away.

  “I hopped to the ledge. I tossed over my shoulder that I thought I'd have a look around and although my wing was still weak I thought it would carry me the short distance to the floor. She came rushing out to stop me but by that time as was off. I missed the back of a pew on the approach and fell to the floor alongside it, luckily landing on my good side. I slowly righted myself and hopped to the middle aisle knowing full well I was done for if the men came back. Or if the cat returned. I was, as you say, a sitting duck. But I tried to cast these thoughts aside. Our home had been invaded and the the violation was deep. We had to make them leave somehow. Hopefully forever.

  “As I made my way closer to the pulpit I could not help but marvel at the oak. Its leaves were of the darkest green and the trunk was almost serpentine. The branches, of which there were exactly six, didn't grow out of the rippled trunk so much as corkscrew into the light. Each limb was curled and twisted upon itself, giving the weirdest impression of motion. Hopping closer, I saw where the seventh branch had been broken away. One of the drunks had flung a flask and lopped it off. Now I could see what looked like a thin stream of blood oozing from the break, staining the bark all the way down to the floor above the spider's lair. Never before or since have I seen anything like it....” The bird trailed off to silence.

  “What about the door?” Connor pressed.

  The crow came back to itself and watched them silently for a moment or so. “The door,” it said, “was constructed of heavy, cross-cut oak, just like the ones in front, but completely laced through and through with inlays of steel. It was also perilously heavy, I have no doubt. A large, brass knob and lock-plate were screwed into the cross-pieces. A prison door.

  “I could not imagine wrestling the thing open. I'd seen the men fighting to get it back and knew the mouse and I together would be no match for it. Nonetheless I hopped into the shadows and strained hard to find any crack, any hole, any anything that would allow us through to the other side. The daylight continued to drain away as I searched. Soon the mouse joined me and I told her what little I'd discovered. No holes, no cracks, no vents. Whatever fate awaited the man it appeared we would be locked out of it. Until, that is, the mouse turned her eyes upon me and pointed at the big brass knob. Simplicity, you see. All I had to do was perch there on the knob as it practically turned itself and watch in amazement as the door slowly swung open as effortlessly as a leaf blown along on a fall day.

  Chapter 13: Into the Tunnels

  “A penetrating darkness waited on the other side. A rush of foul air rifled past, thick with the stink of rot and standing water. Like a well going bad. I whistled into the darkness and the sound bounced away to unknown depths, leaving my feathers a bristled ridge along my back.

  “I stepped up to the threshold and considered the possibilities of what lay beyond. If the men came back while I was down there, the tunnels would most likely be my tomb. The mouse sensed my intention and begged me not to go, but something had a hold on me that I could not shake. I crossed the threshold and that is when I saw it.

  “Off to the right and just down a short landing, a light-green mist painted its ghostly presence on the sweaty brick and earthen walls. The mouse's pleas from behind became more and more distant and with each passing second I found it harder and harder to pull my eyes from the misty light. It had no real shape, but pulsed with a hypnotic intensity, and after another minute I could see it appeared to mark a particular path in the murk. It shone with a pale radiance within an archway of brick and tiled floor.

  “The mouse bumped into me coming up from behind. The ghostly glow blurred and warbled below me in the tunnels as she tried to hold me back. I pulled up short and told her I would go, that she was free to come along if she wanted, and if not, she should wait upon my return. But preferably from the ledge. Her face fell and shoulders slumped, resigned suddenly to what she'd feared.
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  “And with that I turned back to the misty light, hopping a couple of paces ahead to peer into the mysteriously-lit depths. The lit corridor appeared to be the only one of a number of others that was completed. The rest were mere dirt floors and crumbling walls.

  “I passed down into the dark tile corridor, amazed at the many reflections cast off by the bits of glass and mica embedded in the walls. And even as I watched, the corridor began to grow dim as the ghostly light receded down a steep cut of steps. I followed it, the mouse close behind.

  “At the bottom of the stairs was an open, round room with a number of openings branching off in all directions. Many of the bricks that lined the walls and floor were cracked or missing entirely, piled along the corridors here and there. The walls ran sluggishly with moisture. Thick fungus clung in a fuzzy scum everywhere. The light pressed itself into one offshoot and we raced to follow so as not to be left behind in the cavern's black heart.

  “Events continued like this for a short while, with us rushing along, trying to stay within the pale circle of light as it moved into the darkness. It led us on a race through twisting, sweating corridors, and then once through an odd, open area that raised gooseflesh beneath my feathers. By the time we came to the black row of doors set deep in the earthen wall, we were exhausted. The green mist pulled up to one of them and danced around it like an insect to a light. This door was very similar to the one above too, though fitted with cypress rather than oak. Better, I thought, for the damp. But then again, for what purpose? The light contracted into a tight ball and began to slide down in weird tendrils to a now distinct crack between the door and floor. And then it began to push through, taking our only hope with it! To be lost in the darkness down here was sure death. In desperation we raced over to the door and scratched at the rock threshold. It was too tight. We tried the door itself. There was no handle, no knob. A huge lock place was screwed solidly into the cypress and steel frame. And then the light was gone and the darkness closed around like a living thing!