Rosehead

by Ksenia Anske

  “Hold on.” Lilith tapped Agatha’s shoulder. “How do you know Rosehead will be there?”

  “She alwayz comez to watch,” Agatha threw out, without turning.

  Ed’s eyes blazed with excitement. “Can’t wait. To burn her. Down.” He brandished his torch so energetically that he swiped it a bit too close to Monika. She yelped. Panther woofed. Agatha shushed them.

  The garden seemed to have gotten the message, letting them pass unharmed. But from deep inside it came noises akin to dripping saliva and hungry stomach gurgles.

  They tiptoed close to the fence. Echoes of clown jokes and bursts of laughter told them that they were close. A ringmaster’s booming voice announced the next act. A carnival tune pierced the evening air with a clash of cymbals, a beat of the drum, and a buzz of trumpets.

  They reached the front gate and halted, peeking through a gap in the greenery. Lilith held her breath. What she glimpsed made her momentarily forget her fear.

  Golden lantern light illuminated the front of the mansion. Guests were seated on the steps, captivated by the show which unfolded in the middle of the makeshift arena temporarily cleared of cars. Every light in the house was turned off, making the stage stand out that much more.

  Juggling sparkling orbs, an acrobat rode a lavishly decked elephant. A small orchestra played music. A clown ran around the pitch, cheering on the audience. A group of acrobats in glittering unitards huddled to the side. One of them wore a tutu that made Lilith miss her ballet attire.

  “Zere she iz.” Agatha pointed, and Lilith reluctantly tore her gaze away from the circus to peer into the darkness above.

  Hidden in the shade of the mansion, silent and enormous, Rosehead leaned on a wall and gazed intently at the seated crowd, dancing light reflecting in her rose eyes.

  If you didn’t know what you were looking at, you could’ve easily mistaken her for a tree. Sadly, that was not the case. To add to the horror, the roof of the mansion appeared to be breathing. A thick blanket of crows perched there, waiting for the scraps from their master’s table. The mansion itself loomed over the crowd, slightly inclined.

  Lilith’s insides turned to acid and flooded her with dread. She desperately searched the spectator’s faces for her parents. They weren’t there. Her heart hammered. One clear thought pounded in her head: The mansion knew she planned to break their deal, and it was probably angry, especially after being attacked with fire. Nothing prevented Rosehead from lunging at the crowd and sucking them empty like juice packets.

  What did I do? I fell for the cowardly idea of saving myself, putting the lives of everyone—including mine—in danger. Excellent, dear Holmes. You deserve a medal of honor. She tightened her grip on the torch, furious.

  Bushes inched closer from the shadows, undetectable by the blinded audience but clearly visible from their hiding place. The mansion shivered. Rosehead straightened, suddenly alert. If she were to lurch at her prey right now, not Lilith, not Ed, not even Panther would reach her in time.

  Lilith’s nerves snapped. “She’s about to pounce!”

  “Agatha,” stuttered Ed. “We have to. Warn them.”

  “No. When ze firebreazers start. Zen. We make it look like accident,” Agatha wheezed. “You don’t want to be known az fire starter. Not good reputation.”

  “But the mansion knows!” said Lilith in alarm. “It’s no good now! The whole plan, it’s—”

  The front doors burst open.

  Lilith’s palms turned sweaty. Gabby and Daniel stepped out, searching the crowd. Illuminated by the yellow lantern light, they looked haggard, especially her mother. Lilith knew then that she had to make a choice, pick one or the other. Live or love. In that moment she understood that she loved her parents more than she loved herself. It made her strangely serene. She knew what she had to do, on her own, without consulting her book, or Panther, or Ed, or anyone else.

  It was her decision to make, hers and hers alone.

  She turned to face them.

  As if sensing her decision, Agatha snapped. “Not yet. Little miss haz to wait!”

  But Lilith couldn’t wait any longer; she already separated herself from the living. A pang of pain stabbed her chest. She didn’t watch her mother knit, didn’t go on a walk with her father, and didn’t look for a squirrel with Panther like she planned. There was one more thing she could still do.

  Lilith leaned, took in a lungful of Ed’s cookie smell, and kissed him.

  Ed tensed. Then he un-tensed. Then his knees went soft and he was kissing her back.

  If that’s what it’s like kissing boys, I’m certainly sorry I didn’t do this before.

  The music stopped, applause erupted, and Lilith launched into action. She disentangled herself from Ed’s hold, bent down to hug Panther, and before anyone realized what she was doing, with a cry “I love you both, forever!” Lilith took off, thrusting her burning torch high into the air, yelling at the top of her lungs. “Hey, mansion? I’m here! See me? Right here! Remember the deal! I’m coming! Tell Rosehead not to touch them! You hear me? TELL HER NOT TO TOUCH THEM!”

  She sprinted along the pathway, the flickering flame making her dress look like the wings of a butterfly headed for its death.

  Chapter 33

  Lilith’s Sacrifice

  For a second, everything stood still, even the night’s silky darkness held its breath, and then chaos erupted. Rosehead hollered. The crows took off from the roof, cawing madly. Fire breathers lifted their torches, uncertain. The spectators craned their necks to detect the source of the disturbance. Rosehead took one staggering step, then another, and emerged into the light.

  People screamed. Some fell, cowering, others froze, transfixed, the rest scattered. The elephant trumpeted in fright, reared, and charged.

  Lilith waved her torch. “Mansion! Over here! Like promised. Take me! Take me! Tell her to leave them alone!” She acted on impulse, hoping to distract Rosehead long enough to appeal to the mansion and recover their deal, assuming it was, indeed, broken.

  Panther caught up to her, barking. Ed shouted not too far behind. Lilith paid them no heed. A frenzied exhilaration gave her energy, propelling her forward with uncanny speed. This was the biggest mischief she had ever attempted, taunting a deadly spirit of unknown origin. It strangely lifted her mood, making her bubble with terror and glee at the same time. It also made her realize that all of these things—the mansion, the garden, the bush woman—were one and the same. It simply took on different shapes. Ed was right; it must’ve been the place itself. She felt it throb under her feet.

  I don’t care who you are, I’m going to put an end to you. Yes, I’ll have to die, but I’ll die spectacularly, for everyone to see that I was right all along.

  An agonizing bellow tore through the darkness. The elephant collided with the giantess, who howled in surprise and fell on it. Their enormous shapes rolled into one. A whoosh, a crunch, a slurp and a thunderous burp later, Rosehead threw what remained of the poor animal into the ring, where it trotted only minutes ago, now resembling an empty skin-sack full of bones. Squawking, hungry crows swooped down, tearing and ripping at the carcass.

  There was an awful pause, and then the chaos turned into a catastrophe of gigantic proportions. People ran around without any direction, bumping into each other and shrieking. Those who attempted to escape the rosebushes pressed into their midst with a sickening gurgle. Their muffled cries subsided to moans that would set anyone’s teeth on edge. Gabby and Daniel stood on the porch as if spellbound, gazing at the monster.

  Lilith burst into the court.

  The giantess towered over her, leering.

  “Lilith!” cried Daniel and Gabby in unison.

  “Lilith, no!” Ed yelled from behind. “Wait!”

  “Madam, I forbid you to do this!” Panther barked. “This is outrageous! Stop this instant! I’m warning you! I will bite you!”

  Their shouts had no effect. Lilith threw her torch to the ground. “Mom, Dad, I’m sorry,” she
said, and then, “dear mansion, I apologize profusely for whatever it is you might have heard. Please, excuse my friends, they only meant me well. Nobody is going to set fire to you or the garden or Rosehead, rest assured. I’m Lilith Bloom, heir to this property, and you have my word and my promise.”

  She felt the ground underneath her shift. It was unquestionably and indisputably alive. Struggling to hold her footing, she continued. “Whoever you are, phantoms of those whose blood was spilled on this land, a garden possessed by the spirit of my twenty-times great-grandmother Rose Bloom, or both, or neither, or something else, I know you’re all one. So it doesn’t matter. I made a deal with you. Well, here I am. Take me.”

  The earth shuffled and scuffled and shivered. The mansion shook. It shuddered, it rattled, it gnashed its doors and windows like teeth. Rosehead looked back at it, as if waiting for a signal. The porch steps throbbed and burst, sliding ahead until they hit her feet and nudged her forward. She happily obliged, snatching the girl into a massive palm right from under the nose of her parents, her faithful whippet, and her friend, who, together with servants, poked the giantess with torches, attempting to light her on fire.

  Sharp prickles cut through Lilith’s clothes and dug painfully into her skin. She felt a flood of relief. She did it. She saved the Bloom family. She closed her eyes and waited for death, hoping it would be over quickly.

  A second passed, then another. Then a minute. Nothing happened. Lilith didn’t dare open her eyes. She swayed. Heavy footsteps echoed in her ears. Her scalp erupted in goose bumps. As absurd as it was to worry about such an insignificant detail in the face of being consumed by an otherworldly beast, Lilith realized that in her haste to get to the mansion, she lost her new beret. Somehow, this loss made her heart ache; it made her wish for one more hug, one more kiss, one more word from her mother.

  Unable to hold the brave façade anymore, horrified beyond measure, Lilith burst into tears. So big was her grief that she lost all sense of time and orientation, crying in earnest and hoping against hope that maybe somehow she’d escape this nightmare and come out of the garden alive.

  All movement stopped. Rosehead lowered the girl and set her on the grass. Lilith sat up, cradling her legs under her skirt and wiping her face. She was in a clearing, surrounded by a wall of tangled shrubbery so tall that it formed a roofless rotunda. The silvery moon hung in the black sky, watching the girl with interest.

  “The lair has grown anew,” she whispered, looking around.

  In the middle of the glade a cluster of bushes shivered, and something—no, someone—grunted. Slowly, the greenery parted. Dozens of flower-eyes cast a ghostly reddish glow on the crumpled shape in the middle.

  Lilith covered her mouth.

  Alfred Bloom, his face swollen and scratched, his suit torn, sat up dizzily, taking in his surroundings. As comprehension dawned on him, he let out an anguished scream.

  A shadow covered the clearing. Lilith instinctively raised her head. Above them, level with the hedge top, hovered the mansion. In place of its roof gaped a black hole. Hundreds of heads sprouted from it like a bouquet of hellish roses, jawing and yakking and gossiping all at once, apparently excited. It was their turn to witness a spectacle that was bound to give a nightmare to anyone but Lilith, who felt rather elated by having familiar company; company of those who—as horrible as they were—became her friends of sorts over the week she spent here. Lilith smiled involuntarily. One of the heads winked at her, or maybe she imagined it. It didn’t matter. She was still alive. For some reason the mansion, or Rosehead, or some other deity, delayed her execution. Why? To give the audience enough time to settle in for the show?

  “There! There she is!” Alfred yelped, brandishing a finger at his granddaughter.

  Lilith balked. Throbbing fury filled her to the brim. “Why, it’s very nice to see you too, Grandfather. Did you enjoy your flight?” she said levelly, scrambling to stand. If she died tonight, she’d die with dignity. “Did you wipe the piss off your face already, or would you like me to bring you a towel?”

  Alfred clambered to his fours, talking to Rosehead. “Well, are you blind? There’s your food!”

  “I see you made a deal with Rosehead,” said Lilith hotly. “A special meal for a special monster. Bait, that’s what you told me I am, bait for Rosehead. So much love for your granddaughter, I can feel it pulsing in your heart. You would be delighted to know, however, that I made a deal with the mansion in turn. Want to know what we agreed on?”

  The ground heaved. Lilith shifted uneasily.

  Alfred stared at her. His eyes sunk, his arms and legs shook with the effort of propping himself up. “Keep quiet,” he spat. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. You’re only making things worse for yourself.”

  “Worse than death?” Lilith chuckled despite herself. “Truly astounding. Do you care to elaborate?”

  “What do you know about death? How much death have you seen in your short, miserable life? Answer me.” Alfred darted at her, but the bushes held him back. He winced and whimpered like a caged animal. “Answer me!” His voice caught at the end. He sagged to his knees, shaking and mumbling.

  Pity stirred in Lilith at the sight of his sad old figure. She tried, but she couldn’t feel angry anymore. It escaped her with a whoosh. “Is that what you’ve been doing your whole life, Grandfather, keeping things quiet?” she said wretchedly. “Must’ve been very tiring. Well, worry no more. I’m paying for your freedom, with my life. You can go now. And...” She bit her lip, making herself say it. “I’m sorry it was so hard for you. I know you didn’t choose your burden, so I’ll take it over from here. I wanted to let you know that—that—I love you, Opa,” she added quietly.

  “What?” Alfred looked at Lilith as if he saw her for the first time. His face contorted. For a moment he looked like a little boy, scared and willing to do anything to escape his obligation, yet ashamed of himself for it.

  The uneasy silence stirred above them. Lilith didn’t notice that both the heads and the bush woman listened intently to their conversation. Now, crackling and creaking, the heads descended on the clearing and formed a domed roof, obscuring the moon and plunging everything into darkness. The only light came from the scarlet glimmer of roses. The glade turned into a chapel with pulsing walls and a talking ceiling.

  Alfred put up a shaking hand. “You...you...ignorant stubborn girl, you believe you can stop it, don’t you? You think you can succeed where your grandfather failed? Well, you’re wrong!”

  Lilith looked at him with sadness.

  He managed to put on his usual charm, calming. “My dear girl, I’m impressed, impressed by your chivalry. But you’re mistaken. Nobody can stop this, nobody. In a moment you will perish. It saddens me to do this to you, it truly does, but I have no other choice. I’m sparing you a life of misery.”

  “It’s unfortunate that you think so, but it’s not up to you to decide what to do with my life,” said Lilith softly.

  The air around them grew ominously quiet.

  “You needed Bloom heir blood, I gave it to you. Take it!” bellowed Alfred. “There she is! What are you waiting for?”

  The rosebush woman spread her arms and howled in hunger.

  Lilith had seconds left. She had no time to doubt anything; the prospect of imminent death wiped her mind clean. An overwhelming sorrow filled her. She knew now what it meant to die. To die was to let go. There was no fear in death, only forgiveness.

  She looked up. “Dear Rosehead, dear mansion, dear spirit of Rose Bloom or whoever you are, before you dine on me, may I have one last request? I hear those sentenced to death have the right to speak before their execution. I would love to say a few more words to my grandfather, if you don’t mind?” She waited breathlessly.

  Rosehead lunged. The heads erupted in protest. They snaked out hundreds of stem-arms and suspended the monster inches from Lilith. “Talk! Talk! TALK! LET THE GIRL TALK!” reverberated around her. The monster squirmed and thrashed
, but the heads wouldn’t let go, waiting.

  “Dear Grandfather,” said Lilith quietly, “I feel very sorry for you. I wish I could help you somehow, but I think you’re beyond help at this point, and this makes me very sad.”

  “What are you waiting for?” Alfred shrieked. “Get her!” He purposefully avoided looking into Lilith’s eyes.

  She took a step forward. “I don’t know if you truly loved my grandmother, but if you did—”

  “GET HER! NOW!”

  Rosehead moaned. The heads hissed at her.

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I know you’re scared. You’re scared to die. But I’m not, not anymore. I declared myself heir to this property to free my family from the nightmare of a carnivorous rose garden that has been hovering over their heads for seven hundred years. I promised my life to the mansion. In turn, it promised me to stop this massacre, stop it for good. If my short miserable life, as you call it, will pay for many, I imagine it’s a good use of it.” Lilith took a shuddering breath.

  There were shouts from above.

  “Oh, this is beautiful!”

  “Would you shut up? I can’t hear a thing—”

  “Shush, the both of you!”

  Lilith composed herself and continued. “I hope my mom and dad will forgive me. I hope Panther and Ed will forgive me. And I hope you will forgive me. Because tonight I’m putting a stop to this contemptible, wayward, squalid, abject, unbearable, gruesome, odious, sordid, turbid, and innocuous slaughter—once and for all.” She exhaled. Nobody interrupted her. She squeezed ten sophisticated words into one sentence, her personal record.

  Alfred’s face was the shade of a dirty rag. He opened and closed his mouth, but no sound came out. He stared at his granddaughter, speechless.

  Lilith stood straight. “I’m ready.”

  A fight erupted. The heads yelled, bashing Rosehead, who produced a roar of such magnitude that Lilith covered her ears. Leaves and roses rained down upon her. The entire enclosure shuddered under the blows of the giantess. Then it felt like the giantess wasn’t fighting the mansion any longer, but both of them fought something else, something bigger and stronger and scarier.