I watched, and felt, as Winter, Spring, Summer, and Autumn plotted against their sister Lenaru. They envied her power over them and did not think that she was necessary. After all, Winter was similar enough to Lenaru and her season was much shorter and less gruesome. And even if Lenaru only ever used her power once in several millennia, it still resulted in the other sisters being unable to reign over their own seasons for much too long.
I watched as Spring playfully ran up to Lenaru and kissed her on the lips. Lenaru’s eyes suddenly grew wide with shock, as the poisoned kiss started to affect her, and drain the life from her immortal body. Then Summer rushed in, grabbed Lenaru’s gasping face, and stared into her sister’s eyes with her own, using the light of the sun to brutally burn Lenaru’s eyes out, blinding her. Autumn then embraced Lenaru’s screaming form, instantly draining the youth out of her spasming body and leaving her a crumpled, withered husk. The last sister to attack was Winter. She glided right up to her mutilated sister, once the most capable of all of them, and began stabbing her repeatedly with her long icicles, tearing up whatever was left of her shriveled flesh.
When the job was done, the four remaining sisters burned Lenaru’s body, and made sure to scatter her ashes everywhere, so that they could never be reformed.
And so the four sisters continued with their reigns and seasons, not feeling any guilt or remorse for the sister that they murdered and betrayed.
And as I gazed at the remaining sisters…their forms, and the entire forest around me began to grow dim and hazy, and all I could hear was whispering.
When I opened my eyes, I was suddenly back in the chamber next to the fire-pit, and I could barely make out the chalk-white man’s face right in front of my own. He had been grasping my forehead with his searing hot hand, and was whispering to himself, but I couldn’t make out the words. Then everything became dark.
When I woke up next to the fire, the demon was gone. So were the squirrel carcasses.
Not wanting to forget anything, I started writing this immediately.
The Chamber
I can’t stop thinking about Lenaru and the betrayal she suffered at the hands of her sisters. I can still see the horror on her face when she realized that they were murdering her. Why did the chalk-white man show me this dream, or vision, or whatever it was? At least, I assume that was why he was holding my forehead. Why did he want me to see this?
I feel so odd since experiencing Lenaru’s story. Despite being locked in a chamber with a lunatic, vampire-zombie-ghoul creature, all I can think of now is the story of the five sisters. And the same thought keeps running repeatedly in my mind. I want to go back to the forest where the sisters were.
I want to know what happened next.
The Chamber
When I woke up, I had a new metal pitcher of water and a loaf of honey bread next to me. I immediately devoured my meal, as the never-ending fire continued to warm my clammy body.
I hate to say it, but I’m starting to get used to this chamber. I mean, it’s not a hotel with room service, but it’s not so bad I guess.
Unknown Location/The Chamber
I was just starting to doze by the fire-pit, when the chalk-white man suddenly burst into the room. Before I could react, he was right beside me, whispering incoherently, and placing his scorching hand on my forehead.
I should have been scared—but I wasn’t. I wanted to know more. I needed to know what happened to the remaining four sisters.
I was no longer in the chamber. I was in a huge clearing in the middle of a dense forest. It was the middle of the night and hundreds of people were there, all in tattered rags. Everywhere I turned, torches were shining brightly, and the mass of people were dancing and chanting in a language I didn’t understand. There was something deeply disturbing about them. Their movements and voices were fanatical and extreme. In the middle of the spectacle were five enormous statues, and although they looked nothing like the five sisters in my previous vision, I knew it was meant to be them. Each of the statues were huge and made of dense stone. I watched as some of the dancing fanatics reared back and ran as fast as they could into the thick base of one of the statues, ramming their heads into the stone, and leaving a bloody splatter where they had collided. If the dancer did not immediately slump to the ground, they would stagger back and continue smashing their bloody head into the statue until they collapsed. More wailing followers would then enthusiastically pick up the dead or spasming bodies, and move them out of the way, so that more people could continue with the sacrifice.
I noticed that the followers were not slamming their heads into the statues at random. They had picked which sister to offer their brutal tribute to. And although all the sisters’ likenesses had vast amounts of clotted blood and skull fragments at their base, it was obvious that Lenaru’s statue was, by far, the bloodiest.
I was looking at a cult that was worshiping the five sisters. And although I knew that this particular scene had happened thousands of years ago, I knew that the cult was still thriving in our present time.
As more and more worshippers continued to bash their heads into the bloodied statues, a singular chant resonated among the hundreds of other cultists. At first, the language they were speaking was still foreign to me, but then I began to understand what they were saying. “…the chaos of the five, the chaos of the five, the chaos of the five…”
As they continued to chant, my eyes suddenly fell upon a lone figure in the crowd. As he walked by, the other worshippers made way for him and bowed their heads. I heard more of them utter a foreign word, which I instantly knew to mean “high priest.” It was the chalk-white man. It was the monster.
As my eyes flashed open, I found myself back in the chamber, staring face-to-face with my demonic captor. He was no longer whispering and had released my forehead. His eyes were only a few inches away from my own. He smelled like death.
“You are the high priest of the cult of the five sisters. You worship The Chaos of the Five.” I said calmly. I should have been terrified, but I wasn’t.
The demon continued to stare at me, before slowly nodding his head.
“Are you…are you Lenaru?” I asked, after taking a deep breath.
At this, the ghoul reared back and shrieked grotesquely. When he stopped laughing, he shook his head. He was not Lenaru.
“Servant.” He said slowly, in his deep, thickly accented voice.
Once again, he reached out and placed his hand on my forehead. This time, I didn’t even flinch.
When I opened my eyes, I knew that the jumble of various scenes and visions I was seeing were not only from thousands of years ago but were also from the present day. I saw the pale demon, the “servant,” tracking down different people and locking them in stone rooms. I saw him feeding them bread and grabbing their foreheads. I saw them performing gruesome offerings. And after a time, I saw these same terrified captives become docile and obedient, until they were fanatically bowing and chanting in front of huge stone statues of the five sisters.
My eyes once again flashed open, as I found myself in the chamber staring at the high priest. This entire horrific ordeal was just him recruiting for a sick, twisted cult.
And as I stared at the empty dark eyes of the monster in front of me, I felt the tears run down my face. I knew I was never going to leave this place because I didn’t want to leave. I was terrified.
Still, I wanted to know more.
After a while, the monster had a cruel smile on his face. He stared deeply into my eyes, and then he slowly stood up, glided back to one of the doors, and disappeared.
The Winter Room
As soon as the monster entered the chamber, I could tell that something meaningful was about to take place.
The high priest handed me some honey bread, which I greedily devoured, before he once again grabbed my forehead. A host of jumbled images immediately flashed through my mind. When he released me a few seconds later, I knew what we were going to do.
I was going to begin my worship of the five sisters.
Although my understanding was vague, I knew that I would worship each of the five sisters individually and perform a ritual sacrifice for each of them. I also knew that this was the first time that these specific types of rituals were taking place. The monster had made them specifically for me.
I don’t want to say that I was excited about the rituals, but I also did not want to stop. In the moment, it was sort of like being hypnotized. I knew that everything happening was crazy, but I still needed to be a part of it. I needed to continue.
As I followed the pale man, he led me to one of the thick, arched wooden doors, and uttered a single word: Winter.
As he opened the door, I followed him into the room and could hardly believe what I was seeing—though I don’t know why anything was surprising me at this point.
The room we had walked into wasn’t a room at all. We were suddenly in the middle of a meadow with lush green grass. The night air was warm and smelled sweet and in the middle of the clearing was a large statue of a majestic woman. Her features were bold and unapologetic, and she held long, sharp wooden icicles in both her hands. The entire statue was made of dark wood.
Surrounding the statue was a huge mound of every kind of food imaginable, all on tables and stands of varying height. Mixed in between the food were large metal bowls of bright, flickering flames. The food looked amazing. There were cakes and pastries, large pots of steaming pasta, barrels of dazzling fruit, trays of vegetables, platters of chocolate—it was a feast.
When I turned to glance at the demon, his eyes were especially giddy, like he was looking forward to something. In a deep whisper, he uttered, “Eat.”
I don’t know what the monster did to me, but I was instantly filled with a ravenous hunger that I had never felt before. It was overwhelming and primal and it consumed me. Before I knew it, I had thrown myself next to the pile of food. I stuffed everything I could reach into my mouth—custardy cakes, juicy grapes, thick sandwiches, caramel chocolates, hot buttery potatoes—anything I could get my hands on. Everything was delicious. Every bite was spectacular and just made me want more and more.
But as this was happening, I was also mildly aware of another sensation that had awakened in my mind—almost like panic. Like I needed to eat as much as I could, as fast as I could, or I was sure I would die. I was not even hungry anymore, in fact, I felt full to bursting. But I had a need to eat…one that was beyond hunger. A need that did not permit me to stop. I just kept eating and eating and eating.
I was already totally sick and my stomach had grown swollen and huge, but still I kept eating. I was in so much pain and literally felt like my middle was splitting open, yet I could not stop myself from chewing and swallowing. And although my mouth was full of food, I heard myself screaming for it all to stop.
Then just like that, the need to eat disappeared. I was left in the middle of the mound of food, holding my massively extended stomach, and writhing around on the ground. I tried to make myself throw up, but I couldn’t. It was only when I happened to glance up at the wooden statue that I noticed it had turned to ice.
I looked at the demon, who stared back at me, enjoying my agony. The warm night air suddenly grew chilly and crisp, before thick blankets of snow began to fall from the sky. In a matter of moments, everything in the meadow, myself included, was covered in sheets of pristine white snow. The only thing that remained untouched was the ice statue of Winter, still standing tall and bold.
As the air became unbelievably cold, I felt my body slowly shutting down. The combination of the massive amount of food in me and the freezing temperature started to make me feel incredibly sleepy. But not a peaceful kind of sleepy, not the type that you feel before closing your eyes in bed. This felt like death. I knew that if I closed my eyes, I would die. And so I struggled against the freezing temperature, despite my bloated, hardly conscious body. Moments later, however, I felt the forced hibernation take over me, and I was consumed by a heavy, frozen numbness.
I was barely awake when I saw the massive white bear start to sniff my chest. I was conscious enough to see it, but not strong enough to move. The last thing I felt was the great beast’s massive teeth slowly rip into my chest.
Then I sat up screaming. I was back in the chamber next to the eternal fire. My stomach was still massively extended and my skin felt like ice, but I was not harmed in any other way. It was not a dream; it was not just in my mind. I don’t know what it was.
All I know is that it was completely twisted.
I projectile vomited into the fire-pit five times before I could start writing this. My skin is still cold.
I have four more rituals to go. Four more perverse sacrifices to offer to the seasons. Four more ways to give them my pain.
The truly sick thing is that I want to do them. I’m terrified, but I want to do them.
The demon has already destroyed me.
The Chamber
I woke up feeling terrible. Not only is my stomach a mess, but my entire body is extremely sore.
My mind is so fuzzy. I’m going to try to fall back asleep.
The Chamber
Happier times and simple events that I didn’t even know were important to me keep flashing through my mind. Almost like my clouded brain is trying to desperately hold on to whatever thoughts it can, before succumbing to the nightmare happening around me.
I remember when I was very little, my mom and I were in the kitchen and were having cookies and milk. It was nighttime, and I remember that I was still in my school clothes. I don’t recall if we did this every night, but we did it often.
Although I now know that it was a small kitchen, in my childhood perspective, it was very spacious, and I remember that as I sat on the kitchen chair, my feet didn’t touch the floor.
The bottoms of the cookies were completely coated in chocolate, while the tops were only striped in chocolate. For some reason, those details were very important to me.
My mother was just calmly sitting next to me as I dunked my cookies into a small glass of milk and I could feel the love that was radiating from her. Even as a child, I knew that this was a special moment, not just for me, but for her as well.
She was saying something to me, I don’t remember what, but I remember that it was comforting. I was doubly excited because I knew that after we ate the cookies and drank the milk, we were going to watch comedy shows on TV. Dad was already watching television in their bedroom and was waiting for us to join him.
I remember that when I had finished my cookies and milk, my mother smiled at me, as if I had achieved some great accomplishment. And because of her, I felt like I had accomplished something. She made me feel special, and safe.
Because Mom was so strong and full of joy, so was I. Dad was always my buddy, my friend who I both loved and, in a way, feared. But I always felt that as much as I loved Dad, Mom and I both knew an unspoken secret. My mother had a different kind of strength than my father. One that only grew stronger over the years and one that became more and more evident, especially after she became ill. And even though she lost that battle, I had never seen anyone fight a disease so ferociously. She died how she lived—courageously and with dignity.
Even as a child, Mom knew she was my hero. That was our secret. We never spoke about it, but we both knew.
So yeah, cookies and milk. It’s funny what you end up remembering.
The Summer Room
When I woke up, the demon was standing by another door, waiting for me. He said nothing as I walked up to him and followed him into a room, but as I glanced at him, a lone word materialized in my mind: Summer.
The “room” we entered was beautiful. It looked like the large hall of a palace and was made of smooth, bright, white marble. The ceiling was extremely high with an abundance of tall, narrow, arched windows that let in the strong sunlight. The air around us was comfortably warm, and the overall feeling of the place was clean and lovely.
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sp; In the center of this gleaming hall was an immense round pond, filled with pristine, shimmering water. And in the middle of the pond, on a small island, was a large, thick, exquisite oak tree. Its fat roots had grown off the sides of the little island and were submerged in the water. It was the most vibrant tree I had ever seen. It was lush and strong, and somehow reminded me of childhood.
The chalk-white man said nothing but simply continued to observe me. I waited in silent horror, knowing that something terrible was certainly about to happen. But nothing did. I simply stood there, nervously anticipating my fate. The wait was almost a torture in and of itself.
Although the hall remained a pleasant temperature, I began to get very thirsty. I ignored it for as long as I could, until the need to satisfy my thirst became overwhelming.
I ran to the pond and looked down at the shimmering water—it looked so inviting and clean. I dipped my hand in, raised a cupped palm to my lips and drank. It was crisp and refreshing. But as I sipped, the thirst inside me became stronger, and I repetitively dipped both my hands into the pool and drank more.
Suddenly, the hall filled with a terrible faint scream, as if I was hearing it from a great distance. I immediately stopped drinking the water. When I looked around the hall, nothing had changed. But when I looked at the tree, I noticed that several of the leaves had fallen off its branches and into the pool. Its trunk also seemed thinner somehow. A terrible thirst overcame me again, and I drank from the pond. Again, the faint scream echoed around the hall, and more leaves fell from the great oak.
I was killing it. Drinking from the pond was killing that beautiful tree. I immediately stepped away from the water, even though I was still extremely parched.
It Took Billy Page 3
