Dark Fiction

by David Kempf

  “Fortunate son, you will be the last living thing of this world.”

  “Don’t call him son!” his father screamed.

  “Be gone!”

  Then, in an instant, his parents were gone. Quicker than flies, his mom and dad vanished before his eyes.

  “Where the hell are my mom and dad?” Christopher yelled.

  “That is not important, does not matter, not right now, boy, not at all.”

  “It matters to me.”

  “See.”

  Christopher saw his parents in a beautiful beach home. He wasn’t sure where it was but it sure looked like paradise. He felt in his heart they would no longer have to work hard. All their wishes were coming true, apparently. The masters had not banished them to perdition; they had been banished to cloud nine. Christopher Wisdom was satisfied with the work the masters had done. Besides, they were right. Mom and Dad would just get in the way with their wrongful, good-hearted meddling.

  “Thank you,” Christopher said.

  “Stories for us, you scribe.”

  “Yes.”

  “We desire more of them, Christopher Wisdom.”

  “Yes,” Christopher acknowledged.

  “You will live forever, even after David is gone.”

  “David will die?”

  “The expectation is perfection and he has failed.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Stories, you will write stories. Tales of terror reveal man’s fearful nature to us!”

  “I will serve you, but why must David die?” Christopher asked.

  “The standard is perfection.”

  “Okay.”

  “The standard is perfection.”

  “Fine, I think I understand,” Christopher said.

  “We grant every wish.”

  “What happens when I’m the last one on the planet?”

  “The puzzle lives. Solve the puzzle.”

  “What?”

  “We are those who grant wishes.”

  “What?”

  “We are those who grant wishes.”

  “My God, I know now. I will become one of you. I will join you and your power. That’s what you mean. Isn’t it?” Christopher asked.

  “Yes. Christopher Wisdom.”

  “What if I don’t want that honor?”

  “You will…you will….”

  “Why?”

  “The standard is perfection.”

  Christopher didn’t know whether this was real or not. Was he awake or asleep? It was hard to say whether this was a dream or a nightmare. One thing was for sure. This experience smacked of cold reality. This was not his imagination or some kind of dark fairy tale. This was reality of a sort. He did not like how these spirits or creatures or whatever the hell they were did business. They were the worst kind of manipulators, liars and corruptors. He wanted no part of them!

  “I don’t want any part of you. I wish you away!”

  “Those who serve us cannot make wishes.”

  “What?”

  “Only mortals can wish.”

  “I will defy you.”

  “You must be punished.”

  “What?”

  “All dissent must be punished.”

  Like lightning, he was back with his mom and dad. The beautiful beach home apparently had a servant who protected them and worked tirelessly on their behalf.

  “Would you like some more coffee?” asked Jenkins.

  “No,” answered mother.

  “I don’t want another cup either. Thanks,” said his dad.

  “What am I doing here?” asked Christopher.

  “Won’t you join us, darling?” asked his mom.

  “I guess so,” said Christopher. He was looking at parents he did not really know. They looked like George and Madeline but they were not them. They were refined with no trace whatsoever of their working class roots. He looked at his father’s hand. It was the hand that had always made him ashamed because it had the appearance of a lifetime of hard work. They were soft now. They were not his father’s hands anymore. These hands belonged to a man who had never done one hard day’s work in his entire life.

  The butler, Jenkins, smiled at Christopher. He wouldn’t stop smiling at him. Christopher took an automatic dislike to him. He really wanted to get rid of him and be alone with his parents. Were they really the same people? He wasn’t really sure. Who the hell were these people? He seemed to recall a mom and dad who always resented rich people and voted for whoever would make them pay the most in income tax! The damned butler was still staring at him.

  “Come closer, sir. I want to tell you something,” said the servant.

  “Yes?” replied Christopher.

  “Please, Mr. Wisdom. Closer, please.”

  “Fine, I will come closer.”

  “I need to tell you something, sir,” Jenkins repeated.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s really quite important. I believe it’s something you simply must hear.”

  “Okay?” Christopher was getting impatient.

  Now he was pretty close to Jenkins, only a few inches away from him. Christopher was uneasy with the feeling that Jenkins was going to tell him something he did not wish to hear. Then Jenkins moved forward to whisper into Christopher’s ear.

  “Yes?” asked Christopher.

  “All dissent must be punished!”

  George and Madeline were struck down by a strange lightning, not of this world. It was like an electrical storm but not natural – a supernatural intervention on behalf of those awaiting the destruction of man. This was no natural storm nor was it some illusion. This was magic of the blackest sort. Christopher’s parents were burned alive in less than a second.

  “Oh my God!” screamed Christopher.

  “All dissent must be punished.”

  There was no Jenkins anymore. He had disappeared just as the beautiful tropical beach surroundings had. Now there was only a graveyard on a dark, rainy day as far as the eye could possibly see.

  “I know what I must do. I must make amends for insulting you,” Christopher said.

  “All dissent must be punished.”

  “This is surely the foulest part of being a ghoul.”

  “Eat. Devour. Consume.”

  There was no time in his life that could possibly compare to the sheer horror of this moment. Christopher Wisdom still appeared to be human. He was certainly not that fiend in the graveyard. That monster’s name was David Proctor. Now the monster’s name was Christopher.

  “I don’t wish to do this,” Christopher said quietly.

  “Eat. Devour. Consume.”

  “I want to go back to serving you,” Christopher said a little louder.

  “Eat. Devour. Consume.”

  “You want me to eat my dead parents?” Christopher asked, horror rising in his throat.

  “No.”

  “Thank God.” Christopher breathed.

  “Your family; eat the bones of your family.”

  “What?” Christopher felt his horror rising.

  “Devour your parents last. They are not decomposed enough yet.”

  “I refuse.”

  “We will make you eat every dead body in the world if you resist.”

  Christopher knew now that if he resisted he would be eating corpses for all of eternity. If that wasn’t the very definition of perdition, then what the hell was?

  “I can’t believe Santa remembered!” said ten-year-old Christopher.

  “He knew you were a good boy all year long,” said his mother, Madeline. She knew that he was a good kid and didn’t really ask for all that much. She and her husband lacked the wealth and prestige of her relatives. They had broken out of the working and middle class altogether. Through education, hard work or maybe just dumb luck, they had moved on. This Christmas present that she could afford to give to her son meant everything to her and her husband. This was going to be perhaps the best holiday that they had ever spent together.

&n
bsp; “Thanks, Mom and Dad!” screamed young Chris joyfully.

  “Don’t thank us. Thank Saint Nick,” said his father.

  “Oh.”

  There were so many Christmas memories. On the other hand, there were so many corpses to eat. The unbelievable, unspeakable foul taste of eating the remains of his great-grandfather was something Christopher would not soon forget. For some reason, he was unable to vomit. His body was adapting to being a fiend of the grave. The part of him still human forced his mind to hallucinate. He may have been eating aunts, uncles, cousins who died prematurely, and a few miscarriages, but his hallucinating mind had conjured up a delightful Christmas dinner feast!

  “Is this the video game system you wanted?” asked his dad.

  “Yes, Daddy,” said Christopher.

  “Santa thought so,” said his mom.

  “My poor family,” said Christopher. “I always hated people who desecrated the places where the dead slept. Desecration of the grave is wrong. I’m sorry. I never meant to do this to all of you. I love you.”

  “Finish opening up your other presents and then we can have breakfast,” said his mom.

  “Okay.”

  “Great, let’s eat,” said his dad.

  “Mother?” asked the offspring.

  “Yes?”

  “The horror of it all,” said Christopher.

  “What?”

  “I’m sorry for eating you and Dad,” Christopher continued.

  “What?”

  “Sorry for eating you and Dad and your parents and his.”

  “Honey, you’re not eating us. You’re eating a nice Christmas breakfast. That’s all. Save room for a big lunch and a big dinner.”

  “I will, Mommy. This is going to be the biggest meal of my life today.”

  “Christopher?” A voice spoke.

  “What?” he answered, half asleep.

  “Chris, it’s me, David. Wake the hell up.”

  “What?”

  “You’re having some sort of terrible dream. I think.”

  Christopher had fallen asleep in front of the fireplace. The beautiful and diabolical crystal was clutched in his left hand.

  “I knew you were tired,” said David.

  “Oh?”

  “You see, when we are first born into this life…we become exhausted. Eternal life and obligation are extremely overwhelming in the very beginning of things,” explained David.

  “Okay,” said Christopher, still groggy from his dream.

  “You fell asleep with the crystal, and in front of the fireplace of all things!”

  “Fireplace, I fell asleep there?” asked Christopher.

  “Yes. It’s best to meditate in front of the fire when communicating with those who grant every wish.”

  “I see.”

  “Really, do you?” David asked.

  “No,” Christopher admitted.

  “You’re delirious. I would suggest additional rest but….wait a minute…” David stopped short.

  “Yes, David?”

  “Did you dream of the masters?” he asked.

  “My God, did I ever dream of them,” Christopher replied.

  “Explain.”

  “They made me eat my parents.”

  “What?” David asked.

  “I can’t fully explain it. I suppose that they were punishing me. I was defiant to them and they were angry…”

  “So…they made you eat your mother and father?” David asked.

  “My entire family was consumed. They made me devour all of them,” Christopher grimaced.

  “That’s diabolical…even for them! What else did they do? What else happened?” David asked excitedly.

  “I gave into them and before that they allowed my parents to live as wealthy people. It’s like they were new parents from a different class…a privileged class that never saw any hard work. They even had a servant.”

  “Marvelous. It sounds as though they just might favor you,” said David.

  “Really, does it?” Christopher asked.

  “Oh Chris, surely….they have their favorites now.”

  “I find that hard to….”

  “Why?” David asked.

  “I don’t know, maybe because they had me eating the corpses of my family like some terrible monster.”

  “Why should that surprise you?” David asked.

  “It just does,” answered Christopher.

  “Well, it shouldn’t. What kind of beings do you think we’re dealing with here?” asked David sincerely.

  “I think that I know.”

  “Oh, I think not, my young friend. I think not. Indeed, not at all. I am much older than you and have seen much. The masters do occasionally come to me in a dream or, more accurately, a nightmare…no, a night terror. Actually, it’s much more than that. The dreams that come are so intense it’s almost like a new dimension has opened. Perhaps that’s what’s really going on here. You see, once you get started into this new life, you are a servant. That is a form of a subjugated second class that can be punished at the whims of their masters. I didn’t have my first dream experience until years into my service. As far as I can tell, they usually just want you to report to them. Communication with them only happens every few decades. Before that pretty young thing stole my precious crystal, I hadn’t had direct communication with them since Hoover was president!” David said.

  “That’s incredible. You’re right, I don’t understand.”

  “I know you don’t. I don’t either and Alexander who is without a doubt the oldest living thing on this planet also does not understand.”

  “Remarkable,” said Christopher.

  “Yes. It’s quite an exclusive club,” said David, grimacing.

  “Yes.”

  “Now did they mention me at all to you in the dream of yours?” David asked.

  Christopher froze. He was not sure what to do. Even if he told David…that still didn’t mean there was anything important or significant about a dream. On the other hand…he thought….he was holding the dreaded crystal tightly. That could mean something, he thought. This early in the game, he couldn’t just tell his mentor that the masters had chosen him to be the last thing breathing air on Earth. He just couldn’t bring himself to do such a thing.

  “Well, Chris?” asked David again.

  “No.”

  “Nothing about me at all was mentioned?”

  “Sorry, no.”

  “Fine, I accept that.”

  There was a part of Christopher that wanted to tell David he was full of himself and not worthy to be chosen last. That was the part of him he knew wasn’t really him. The part that wanted to spare hurt feelings and practice self-preservation was human. The part of him that arrogantly wanted to tell David that he, Christopher, was the most special living life form was ghoulish.

  “I feel like watching a movie now,” said David. “Do you?”

  “Okay,” Christopher answered.

  “I think you’ll like it even though I’m sure you’ve seen it before.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s very scary and was underrated by its critics.”

  “What movie is it?” Christopher asked.

  “It’s a short horror movie from a promising young film student,” said David.

  “Wait….”

  “Can you guess the title of the film?” David asked.

  “The Horror of it All; am I right?” Christopher asked.

  “Yes.”

  “That was my film,” Christopher said, smiling.

  “Really, was it?” said David.

  “Yes. You must have known that,” said Christopher.

  “What grade did you receive from our fine professor?”

  “Professor Lynch?”

  “Yes.”

  “A B- was my grade. The lowest grade I’ve ever received here. My only B and he had to make it a damn B-.”

  “Sounds like you need to pay the good professor a visit,” said David.

 
“I will,” said Christopher, bitterly. He looked at David and grabbed a small knife off the wall. It was a hunting knife, the kind that could easily fit into someone’s front pocket; the kind with a lot of jagged edges.

  “Christopher?”

  “Yes?”

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Getting revenge, remember. It was all part of our little deal.”

  “No,” said David.

  “See you,” he said to David. He walked quickly to the front of the door. David picked up a large axe. He flung it at Christopher’s head and knocked him down instantly. The brutal strike would have killed any mortal creature. Christopher, however, was no longer mortal.

  “What the fuck did you do that for?” Christopher screamed. Then he saw blood all over his hands. He felt the massive head wound. Then very quickly, almost instantly, the blood on his hands disappeared and his open wound healed itself up.

  “We’re better than that. We should make Lynch wish himself into his own demise. Understand me?” David said angrily.

  “Fine, but why don’t we just do that to everyone? Couldn’t we use them to end the universe now?” Christopher asked.

  “It doesn’t work that way. They allow us the treat of a little revenge here and a little wish manipulation there. If we do it too much it becomes…”

  “Oh, David, I almost forgot. Bad sport, right?”

  “Right you are,” David nodded.

  “Well then…am I allowed to get back at this bastard?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s all part of our diabolical deal.”

  “I see,” smiled Christopher.

  “You’re better than some crazed lunatic with a damned hunting knife, Chris. Why not make him suffer first?”

  “That’s what a hunting knife is for,” said Christopher.

  “No. You need to make him get himself; that’s the great wit. The fantastic irony of it all is amazing.”

  “How do I do that?” Christopher asked.

  “Make yourself suffer first. Watch your little movie.”