Easter Eggs and Bunny Boilers: A Horror Anthology

by Matt Shaw

  “How are you feeling?” Lukas whispered.

  “Uncomfortable,” she admitted. “It’s very different from anything I’m used to.”

  “Yes, it must be.” Lukas wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed her fingers. “This must be quite the culture clash.”

  “In America, this would be a great scene for a horror movie,” she said, nodding at the sinister-looking butcher.

  Lukas laughed. “I can imagine. Though, in the defense of my culture, there have been plenty of moments in America that have felt equally weird to me.”

  She smiled. Of course it had. That was all it was, they were having a cultural difference, and she was having problems with dealing with it. No biggie. She was just being pregnant and melodramatic. Even an innocent Easter tradition. It wasn’t as if they were burying anything scary. They were just eggs.

  “Don’t worry,” Lukas kissed her on the cheek, “This will only be for a few days. Then we go back to America, and you can frighten me with your mother.”

  She giggled. Her mother wasn’t as stern as Lukas’ mom, but Danielle Green was a whole different kind of scary.

  In a long procession, of perhaps a hundred people, or more, they walked towards the fields. The people all looked rather glum. There was no happy chatting or laughter, Polly noticed, and it made the event feel more like a funeral than festivities.

  Lukas guided Polly along and told her where to stand. People glanced at Polly, their solemn faces eyes filled with hints of curiosity. No one came up to make acquaintance, and after the faux pas of offering Lukas’ mother her hand, Polly didn’t dare to introduce herself. None of them seemed particularly friendly, anyway.

  The ritual was an odd one, and Polly wasn’t sure why Lukas was so enamored with it. She, along with most of the attending people, stood in a large circle. They were each given a sprig of what looked like an evergreen bush. The waxy leaves pricked her skin.

  Seven men and six women, Lukas, his mother and grandmother among them, stood in the center of the circle creating their own circle. Lukas stood dead center, and was handed the basket. He, in turn, handed an egg to each of the twelve who surrounded him. It was Lukas’ mother who spoke. Her words were so fast, and she was far away enough, that Polly found it difficult to follow what she said. She heard snippets, and only when the woman was facing her direction.

  The mother held up her egg. She yelled something, then turned. Polly gathered that the eggs were an offering to some Goddess called Eostre.

  It surprised her that Lukas’ family were pagans. He had never told her about this. His mother kept talking about the offering. There was something about giving life to gain life, or the circle of life, or something like that, Polly only half listened. A wave of nausea hit her again, and she swallowed hard to keep the acidic taste down. Her tongue stuck to her dry palate.

  The ritual took forever. The twelve people poked sticks into the soil, trying to find the right spot to plant the eggs. Finally, they each dug a deep hold and placed their egg inside. When this was done, all the people in the circle helped to cover the eggs with dirt. With glum expressions they stomped the dirt in place, though they looked rather half hearted about the whole thing. Polly just stood to the side, watching everything.

  Lukas slid a hand around her waist from behind. “Tonight will be our turn,” he said. “Tonight is special.”

  “Do you mind if I lay down again?” Polly said. “Your family must think me horribly rude, but I just feel so sick.”

  “I think it’s a great idea,” Lukas said. “I’ll have mother fix you one of her drinks.”

  “No, that’s okay…”

  He squeezed her tighter. “I insist.”

  *

  She didn’t drink the new beverage –which was different from the previous two—either. Instead she just fell back on the hard bed, and closed her eyes for a moment. She dozed, not quite sleeping, but when her door opened she kept her eyes closed, pretending to be sleeping. It could be his grandmother again.

  “Is she asleep?”

  Polly didn’t recognize the woman’s voice, so she did her best not to move a muscle.

  “She should be. I gave her enough to sedate an elephant.” It was Lukas’ mother’s voice. Polly struggled in her pretence to sleep.

  “Is that not harmful for the baby?”

  “No. The baby will be fine. I know what I’m doing. We will put the foetus in the final egg, so we can bury it at midnight.” Footsteps indicated that they had entered the room. “Honestly, why did you bring us one who speaks German? I had to censor myself in my own house.”

  “I slept with six girls, mother. She was the only one who was pregnant on time. This is not an easy task.” To her horror, Polly recognized Lukas’ voice. Her blood ran cold.

  “I hate that you have to sleep with these women,” the unknown woman said.

  “I’m sorry, my love, but there is no other way.” Lukas let out a snort. “Do you think I enjoy sleeping with these American pigs?”

  The words cut straight into Polly’s soul.

  “Why can’t you just impregnate one of the captured girls?”

  “They are too sickly and poor. My sacrifice needs to be a more significant one and I can’t risk leading the wrong people to this farm. This stupid sow’s family thinks she’s somewhere in Berlin with a man called Lukas Opfergabe. They’ll never find her.”

  “This is not the time or the place for this discussion,” Lukas’ mother intervened. “We won’t have much time to extract the fetus. I need you to go see if the oven is clear yet, so we can put her body in there when we’re done. Clean out any of the remaining bones. Officer Kruger will know what to do with them. I will help grandmother prepare.”

  Polly didn’t open her eyes until she was sure they had left the room. Her mind was spinning, her heart was pounding and part of her wanted to curl up and just cry, but she refused to give in to that part. She wasn’t the kind of girl that gave up, and her survival instinct kicked in. She had to run. A panicked voice in the back of her mind wondered where she could go. She didn’t have the keys to the rental car, and she didn’t dare look for them.

  She couldn’t go to the authorities, since they were most likely involved as well. The only thing she could think of was getting out of the house. She would make up the rest as she went along. As she slipped on her coat, she put her hands in her pockets for her phone and wallet, only to find them empty. Lukas must have taken her belongings, just in case. She took a deep breath to fight the panic. Nausea made her stomach turn, but there was no time to give into it, not if she wanted to live.

  The window was narrow, but wide enough to let her squeeze through.

  Not bad, for an American pig, she thought bitterly. She banished the thought of Lukas’ betrayal from her mind. There would be time to worry about him later, now all she could focus on was her escape.

  Her room was only on the first floor, so the drop wasn’t too high. She had once been the top of the cheerleading pyramid, in her high school days, so this was barely a challenge. She scanned for a good place to get down, away from any potential downstairs windows. The last thing she wanted was to have any of those psychos see her leave. With trembling knees, she made her way further down the ledge, then carefully lowered herself.

  She pulled her dark coat over her blond hair and ran in the direction of the road. The sound of an approaching car made her veer off her path. She couldn’t risk getting seen by anyone. Not until she was at a safe distance from both the farm and the village. She considered running across the meadow, but the idea of being out in the open frightened her. Instead, she ran towards the large barn that stood off to the west of the farm. It looked pretty abandoned, and would provide her with at least some protection until she had figured out a better way of escape.

  Please, God. Don’t let anyone be inside.

  There were no lights, which was a good sign. She hurried around to the door and peered inside. It was very dark, but Polly couldn’t detect any
movement, so she took her chances and slipped inside. She wished she could just stay there, at least until it was light, but she knew she’d have to run under cover of darkness. The only question was… when would she risk it? Outside she heard shouts that made her heart race. They already know I’m gone. That was faster than I had hoped. She suddenly regretted hiding in the barn; if only it was further away. What was I thinking? For a moment she considered sneaking out, but she heard voices outside and couldn’t determine how far away they were.

  Quickly, and as quietly as possible, she made her way to the back of the barn. The darkness hid the details from her, but she could see the outline of what looked like a pile of hay. Then she moved around the pile, overwhelmed by the strong sour scent of the dried grass, looking for a way to get in. She noticed a dim light shining through the crack of a hidden door. Someone on the other side made a hushing sound, and the light went out.

  Whoever is in there must be hiding too…

  In a moment of desperate insanity, Polly pulled open the door. She didn’t know what she thought she would find, or if she put herself in more danger, but had to find out.

  Inside was darkness now, and she heard a whimper.

  “It’s not them,” a female voice whispered in German. “She’s not one of them.”

  “She must be the sacrifice,” another girl whispered back.

  “Please,” Polly said, in her best German. “I need help. They’re trying to kill me.”

  There was a sound of a match striking stone, and a small flame caused Polly to shield her eyes. The flame lit a candle, and then another.

  “They will find you in here eventually. There is nowhere you can run.” A dirty face, hovering over the candle, looked at her through matted hair. “They own everything and everyone around here.”

  “Others have tried to run over the years,” the second girl said. Polly counted four girls.

  “Who are you?”

  “We are part of next year’s victims,” the first girl said. “We lost our babies too soon, so we couldn’t be sacrificed.”

  “They wanted to take your babies too?” Polly said. Her fingers caressed her stomach with a light touch.

  “They put the babies in the eggs. They rip them from your womb, and then they kill you—chop you up and burn your body parts. I don’t know how they get the babies in the eggs… it must be some kind of magic,” a third, equally dirty, girl muttered. “Then they bury the eggs as a sacrifice.

  “That’s… horrible…” Polly raised her hand to her mouth. “And no one has ever tried to stop them? No one has ever come looking?”

  “W don’t know… but I don’t think so,” said the first woman. “We only know what happened to the previous girls. Maybe she knows…?” She pointed at the darkest corner.

  “Only one way to stop them… break the ritual.” An older voice said, and a woman of undeterminable age, sat forward. The light hit her face. Polly wondered if this woman had been pregnant too.

  “How do I do break the ritual?”

  “Smash all the eggs, kill the babies inside.”

  “Are you telling me the babies in the eggs are still alive?” Polly asked, mortified.

  “Yes, very much so. Not only are they alive now, but they stay alive after they’re buried. They feed the land, and it will feed them in return. The children become part of it; they grow into trees, foliage, richer soil, you name it. But they stay alive until that which they are connected to dies.” The old woman gave her a bitter smile, showing a row of rotten teeth. “I tried to stop them once. Couldn’t deal with it anymore, all that murder. I’ve ripped the unborn from the bellies of their mothers. The blood that sticks to my hands will never be washed off.” She looked at her filthy hands. “They couldn’t kill me when I tried to stop them, so instead they locked me in here, with the victims. My own sister…”

  “You want me to kill those babies?” Polly’s knees threatened to buckle; she thought of her own baby. “I could never…”

  “Then you’ll die, and they’ll take your baby.” The woman shrugged. “Killing them is your only hope. And you best make up your mind fast. The infants will be part of the land at midnight. That’s when she wakes… the lady of the soil.”

  “The Goddess they were sacrificing to?” Polly said, “Eoster, or something? Isn’t she meant to bring life to all?”

  “Ha,” the woman let out a bitter laugh. “She doesn’t give life, stupid girl… she takes it, and converts it.” The woman let out a sharp laugh. “Gods can do many things, but they can’t grant life. That’s all a lie. That’s why we humans are so important to them, the life we create is so powerful.” She shook her head. “You better hurry. Your time is running out. It’s almost midnight, and it’ll be a challenge to find all the eggs.

  “Go,” encouraged the first girl. “If you stop this… you could save us all.”

  “Why don’t you come?” Polly asked, “We’d have more chance finding the eggs if there’s six of us.” It would be less scary if she didn’t have to go alone.

  The girl shook her head and held the candle in such a way that it illuminated her legs. Polly held her breath. Bones protruded from the skin of the broken, doll-like, legs, which were cleaner than the rest of the girl, so someone must have cared for her. The wounds had healed, badly, and it was obvious girl would never walk again. Polly looked at the other girls; their legs were all broken too. All except the woman.

  “No need for legs,” the girl said bitterly. “Go.”

  Polly didn’t want to look at the girls anymore. She didn’t want to be one of them, nor did she want anyone to take her babe.

  “I’ll come with you,” the older woman said. “I can help.”

  “They didn’t break your legs… why didn’t you stop the ritual yourself?”

  “Because I was afraid.”

  Polly nodded. She understood. She would rather run too, but she wasn’t sure if she could get away.

  The older woman led the way out of the barn, and they both ran towards the large field. “Isn’t everyone at the field now?” she whispered.

  “They’re still looking for you, girl. Besides… the thirteenth egg isn’t buried in the field, but somewhere… else…”

  There was something eerie about this land that looked so beautiful during the day. The wind whispered menacingly, and the moon covered everything with a cold silver light that banished the darkness from the land.

  It took her a while to find the spot where she believed one of the eggs was buried. The soil was still loose, and came away easily as she dug frantically. She almost threw the egg aside, but she caught herself just in time. It lay in the palm of her hand—white in the light of the moon—and radiated heat. A mixture of fear, inquisitiveness and disgust rose in her all at once, as she put pressure on the egg with her thumbs. The shell cracked under the weight, and Polly peeled it away, driven by her own morbid curiosity.

  In her hand, warm and covered in some sort clear sack filled with mucus, lay a half-developed baby. It wasn’t quite an embryo anymore, it looked too human for that, but it wasn’t fully formed either. The translucent skin showed black spots where its lungs were. All its bones were visible as dark lines. Her baby would look something like this, too. The hormones raged through her body, and crippling Polly at the sight of it. The baby moved in her hand, not yet dead. The thought of having to kill it was too much for her. She knew she had to do it, but she just needed a moment. The old woman grabbed the baby from her hand, held it up, and squeezed. Blood oozed over her hand, and Polly yelped in terror and sadness.

  “It had to be done,” the old woman said. “Find the next one.”

  They never had the chance. Something happened to the land. Polly couldn’t quite describe it, but it felt almost as if some invisible force rippled through everything. It was as if the world around her was waking up, as if it was becoming aware.

  “You’re too late,” a familiar voice said in perfect English. Polly turned around to look at the dark figur
e of Lukas’ mother. “It’s midnight, and the children are now part of the land. There is nothing you can do to stop it.”

  “We killed one of them, your ritual is broken,” Polly said.

  “Its death is unfortunate, but not all is lost” The woman shook her head. “Do you think I would let you stop us? Risk the wrath of Eostre? You have no idea what is at stake here. Not just for us, but for all those who depend on us.”

  “You’re killing people…”

  “Our children all grow up healthy. Those we provide for don’t suffer poverty, illness or anything bad in their life. They are blessed and filled with luck. We save hundreds of people at the cost of thirteen. I say those odds are good. Where you come from people kill more people for less.”

  “I stopped you,” the other woman said in German.

  “You’ve stopped nothing, sister,” Lukas’ mother said. “I still have my sacrifice.”

  “You won’t have enough,” Polly said, scrambling to her feet.

  “Yes, I have,” the woman said calmly. “I don’t have to sacrifice babies. The only reason I pick the unborn fetuses is because I’m not as cruel as you think I am. The children I take don’t have a consciousness yet. Their existence really doesn’t change when I plant them from one womb to another. The death I give the mothers is merciful and fast.”

  “I… I don’t understand.” Polly wondered if her legs could hold her, or if they would buckle.

  “To put something with a consciousness in the ground, would be condemning them to the worst of hells. They would be captured between life and death, in pain, and aware of it, until that which they are linked to dies. Imagine becoming part of a tree? They can live for hundreds of years… some even thousands. You’d be trapped under the soil, in pain, for all that time. There would be no crying for help.”