Dark Days: A Collection of Short Stories and Poetry

by Chris Harris

  Part One

  In which Nathan enters the realm of darkness and the circle of Pride.

  The Ferryman.

  King Minos, the demon king.

  I awaken on a hard floor of dented wood,

  a conundrum at least, for my last memory

  I perished to the sound of a harsh bullet-storm.

  Curiouser and curiouser.

  O great muse!

  Tell me what of this terrible predicament,

  Whilst I gradually sail on this wooden boat,

  ferrying me over the foul blood-red waters

  filled with the sounds of screams, the smell of rotting flesh;

  a smell associated with the battle field.

  The boat rocks as something monstrous sits at the rear,

  I go to where, none know, but pray I’ve a future;

  A reality that probably won’t come true.

  I walk shakily to the ferryman and asked,

  “Pray thee, sir. Where is this vessel

  (for I was not sure what it really was)

  taking us? When shall this voyage be over?”

  The ferryman smirked, which was only visible

  by a slight movement at the edge of his dark hood,

  I was left unanswered; confused as we sailed-

  Sailed through the thick impenetrable darkness.

  We eventually approached a dim landmass,

  a veritable slug floating in the river,

  illuminated just by fiery torches.

  When is this, I ask myself, the sixteen hundreds?

  Scolding myself, I notice that the damned vessel

  is coming to a stop and that the large, dim slug

  is but an island filled with ringing screams and cries.

  The cloaked ferryman prods me hard with his cold oar.

  It is covered in a red, sticky substance that

  I recognise as blood; so I move, walking to

  what appears to be an ornate black and gold throne

  with a tall, spindly figure seated upon it.

  The spindly figure pointed a spindly finger

  at what appeared to be a long spindly pathway;

  one which led deceitfully to oblivion,

  but I sensed that my future lay along that road.

  And thus I walked alone,into the depths of Hell...