Post by Twisted on Sept 20, 2014 17:15:43 GMT -5
Notes: This particular story is a bit different from my normal work, it's a bit short but it's only the rough draft at the moment and this is only as far as I am.
The Lullaby
A short story
(Part 1)
By Twisted
“Let the world hear your magnificent voice emit.”
“Dance, dance like the beautiful angel you are.”
“The lyrics that can touch even the hardest heart and soften it”
“You, my puppet Lallare”
Once upon a time, once there was a ramshackle old town there was two men. These men were both gentle, kind and virtuous men. Nothing could change the two beggars from what they were. Generous and not so well off but happy all the same. These two men were brothers, twins to be exact. James and Jonathon Drew, the two men who were the kindest souls in the gutters. These two were friends to all and enemies to few. James was happily wed and had two children, his brother bachelor and with James’ family. These five people lived all together in a single small home amongst the other homes in disrepair of the fen. It was not easy for them, the children would grow sick in the winter and James would always worry for their lives. But somehow they managed to survive for ten years.
After those ten years passed, something happened that would affect all of them forever. Nothing could ever be the same again. It first happened when the soldiers came for the first time, they came, collected taxes as usual but something wasn’t right. We didn’t understand the sunken eyes, the pale skin and the eyes that looked as though they were a corpse staring into your very soul. But then the young little boy Tim first started to show signs of abnormality, so we took him to the doctor. When we did, the man studied his sunken eyes, his shallow breathing, his deathly pale skin and his limp tongue. He could not diagnose what assailed our little Tim. And alas, it was too late by then, for little Tim died only the very next day… so very suddenly and with no warning of it. He simply died sometime during the night, his body resting peacefully on his bed. Almost beautifully serene we found him, resting there like a doll, so beautiful and as though he were only asleep.
That was only the beginning of the horrors to come, nothing happened to us for a long time after that, young Miriam, the older child of the two had been of declining health for a long time now. But she was a strong little girl, and thanks to her parent’s nurturing care and the other gutter inhabitant’s help she was cared for and managed to live. We later heard that the same guards had been infected with some sort of virus that killed them just like our little Tim. But after a few years news of the epidemic had subsided, apparently there had been no survivors the entire time of this whomever had shown signs of this mysterious illness had died within a week of losing the ability to move their tongue. Tragedies had befallen countless families, usually the young were claimed, but sometimes the old were as well, the sickness seemed to be merciless to all, never sparing a life once it was claimed. We watched in despair as neighbors, dear friends and family were lain to rest in the same dirt as our little Tim.
It wasn’t as though it was an ending, oh no, the story had just begun. After the epidemic had passed, there were those who were trying to ask around to see if there had been anyone, anyone who might have survived the symptoms. But it began to grow violent after various groups fought and disagreed how to go about checking people who might have had the illness. We did not understand any better than the two brothers how this escalated. The streets became violent, and the “Sterilizers” were hunting for anyone who had ever had any symptoms to either wipe them out or study them like herd animals. We did not understand this, why were they so violent? What made it like that when Lady Death stretched out her cold hand? But somehow the family remained safe for a time, but as all things, it did not last very long.
For one evening, the family had been eating their dinner when we heard a rap at the door. Melda, Miriam’s mother and James’s wife went to answer it. It was sudden to see blood from the dining room where we were. She fell to the floor with an axe in her throat, spasms shaking her body before the light left her eyes and she remained still, unable to even blink anymore, her heart sending more blood gushing forth but there was no life left inside. Horrified we remember James and Jonathon, Jonathon grabbing Miriam and the two running out. We heard James shout to Jonathon just before the men got him,
“Hurry! Protect Miriam please! Get out of he-“
And we know that he never got a chance to finish his last words, for even looking back we could see his bloody face on the floor. James was no more. No more did those in the slums care about those who had been kind to them so often in the past, not any longer was there mercy in these twisted hearts of men. This thought was all that seemed to fill the silence of grief that we knew was in Jonathon’s heart at the time.
We could not protect Jonathon from the pain, we were silent as the stillness of night. We watched as he cried over his dead brother and sister-in-law’s death. For many days he was silent, mourning them and bringing young Miriam to safety. But there was never always safety for the touch of Madness was long and far, always even unto the far reaches of the earth. They were plagued by misfortune at every look and turn. We did not understand how two people could possibly be quite so misfortunate. Jonathon cared for Miriam even as her health continued to decline. The fair faced girl was slowly wasting away and Jonathon couldn’t do anything about it. For the longest time he would take her to doctors for help, only to be turned away mournfully. There was nothing that could be done for the dark haired girl who would never live from adolescent to adult. We were there when he began to search out other ways, the occult, the church, anything that might give the poor little girl even the slightest chance. We do not know when it happened, but it did… Jonathon had begun to change and we did not realize it. He still searched in vain for a cure to his poor niece.
And one day Miriam’s wasting life finally reached the point where her helpless lungs could no longer pull in breath. She could no longer continue in life. Desperate to save her Jonathon tried to bring her back to life once her final breath escaped. It was not to be, for once dead one cannot return, like water into the earth. And in trying to summon Miriam’s spirit he gave us a body. We turned Miriam’s hair white as snow, eyes hued as though they were violets. We rose up from that place, finally having form. Jonathon hugged us as though we were his precious niece risen from the dead, but we could not bear to let him live in such a delusion. We reassured him with voices soft and musical to the ear.
“We are not Miriam, we know Miriam but she is not us.”
We were shocked to see the look on Jonathon’s face. He was angry, upset, not happy to see that we could finally talk to him freely and he hear us.
“Why!? Why are you not Miriam? Your face looks just like her! You may be different but you’re Miriam all the same aren’t you!?”
We did not understand why he was upset, we were overjoyed that we had finally gained the chance to speak to him, Jonathon, whom we had known for many many years before Miriam’s death. We held him for hours as his tears poured, unable to say anything that could possibly comfort him while he cried out and moaned forth his grief for his lost relative.
After that and knowing that Jonathon did not accept us, we expected he would send us away. But he did not, pitifully he would call our name when we would turn to leave. We did not understand why he hated us, and yet felt so attached to us. We remained with him, taking on the name, Lallure, meaning lullaby, since we remained to be Jonathon’s comforting lullaby. We could sing, enchantingly so, we kept by Jonathon’s side, singing and reassuring him. We did not realize that Lady Madness had already laid her touch upon him long ago, and the seeds sown had begun to grow and blossom into insanity.