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amine walked into the largest room of the family mausoleum. He hated the name, but it was given to him because it had some great meaning to his father. Seems his old papa is close to and works with a being with the same moniker. It must one hell of a guy to make such an impression on him. It’s going to be hard to, for lack of a better word, live up to such an expectation. Still, it was just another thing that made being part of the family so frustrating. Famine’s mother, Llorona, was folding shrouds on the large marble slab in the middle of the room. She didn’t even turn back when the child entered.
“Where have you been?” she asked.
“Just floating around.”
“Doing what?”
“Nothing.”
“And that’s all?”
“Yeah,” sighed Famine rolling his eyes.
“Why do you have that attitude?”
“I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
“If you stopped asking so many questions and left me alone . . .”
“Leave you alone?”
Llorona turned from her folding to look down at her son. Her pale, bony face was stoic under her own tattered shroud. Famine never liked it when she got that look in her eye sockets. It always meant she was going to lecture him again.
“I left you alone before and you know what happened,” she spoke.
“You won’t let me forget it.”
“And you still expect me to let you go where ever you want anytime you want?”
Famine turned from her waving his hands.
“It’s not fair. You don’t trust me.”
“Trust takes a long time to earn back, young man.”
“But that was a long time ago. I’ve been good ever since.”
“Not good enough do anything you want.”
“But the other kids do whatever they want!”
“You’re not like the other kids.”
Famine knew she was right and fell silent. His trying to be like everyone else was a hopeless task and the best thing was to just do what he was told. Once he got to know more about the world, then he could set himself apart from the family. He doesn’t know what he’d do, but he’d worry about that when the time came. He gave up on arguing with Mother and sat on one of the other slabs in the room.
“Why are you folding the good shrouds?”
“We’re having company. Your uncle Ankou is coming.”
Famine gave a disgruntled moan.
“Now, now. He gets enough of that from everyone else out there. Be nice to him.”
“But he always brings everyone down.”
“He can’t help it. It’s the way his job’s made him.”
“Dad isn’t like that.”
“Your father is cut from different flesh. Not that he has any of it now.”
Mother finished with the shrouds and carried them into an adjoining room. Famine flicked a flowing lock of golden hair from his face and followed her. She was placing the shrouds on the backs of tall dark chairs arranged around a weathered dining table. An open coffin sat in the middle.
“Why is he coming?”
“Just to visit, although I can’t imagine him being that casual. Must be for something else.”
“You said to be nice to him.”
“I am being nice, son. Truthful, but nice.”
“So, you can say whatever you want, no matter how rude it might sound . . . and still be nice?”
“That’s the thing. I can say whatever I want as long as I put it in the right words.”
“So, it’s not really rude. It’s truthful while being nice?”
“Something like that.”
Famine stared blankly at his mother for a second, slightly tilting his head.
“I see . . . and you think I’m confusing.”
He pulled out a chair and sat down. In the lower levels of the mausoleum his father was stirring. A series of loud thuds shook the walls sending dust flying through the air. Muffled curses and laughter soon followed.
“He’s at it again,” Famine said.
“It keeps him busy and out of my way. Besides, a man needs a hobby.”
“It’s not a hobby. It’s wholesale destruction. He doesn’t know what he’s doing.”
“I know, but as long as he’s content, everything is better for it.”
“Try telling that to the house.”
Famine got up and strolled to the outermost room. An open doorway led to the downstairs. The ancient cracked steps were in need of repair, no doubt another task on his father’s list. He could hear the old man down there now, still toiling at what he believed to be work. He would be up soon enough. Famine turned his attention to the shelves on the walls of the room. They were filled with large jars of colorful gaseous blobs. Unlike his namesake, he did need nourishment and these jars were full of the stuff. He chose a jar of swirling dark blue, opened the lid, and breathed in some of the gas. This batch was particularly thick and sweet . . . his favorite sort. Some of the other stuff was foul tasting, thin, and unfilling. Those were the good souls, he was told. Evil ones seemed to breed delicious, saccharine nectar that was unlike any other. Famine was wise enough to just take enough to whet this thirst without spoiling his appetite. The last thing he needed was another lecture from his mother. He had just returned the jar to the shelf when he heard her call from the other room.
“Famine!”
“Yeah!”
“Is your father up yet?”
“No!”
“Tell him to finish and get up. Ankou will be here soon! I don’t want to entertain him alone!”
“Yeah!”
He was about to shout down when he heard footsteps upon the staircase. A flickering light grew steadily brighter as the steps got closer. Soon, a tall thin figure soon appeared at the doorway with a torch in hand.
“You heard?” asked Famine.
“The living could hear.”
Famine smiled and walked with his father into the dining room. Candles had been lit and were on the table and in almost every conceivable flat surface. His mother floated in, now clad in a cleaner, untattered shroud.
“Aren’t you getting dressed?” she asked her husband.
“I am dressed,” he replied.
“You’re wearing that?”
“It’s what I always wear.”
“Oh, very well. But at least take down your cowl. I know he’s just your brother, but the least we can do is have some decorum.”
He took down the hood to reveal his skeletal head. A spider crawled from out of one of his eye sockets and down his cloak.
“You didn’t even bother to clean the bugs out of your head?”
“Llorona,” said the Reaper, “Ankou won’t mind.”
“Fine.”
She floated back into the anterior room muttering about the frustrations that men brought and how she would be better off without any of them. The Grim Reaper and Famine followed a few seconds later. The light coming from under the mausoleum door was very faint. If that didn’t signal Ankou’s arrival, nothing else did, thought Famine. When it came to family visits, Ankou broke “the rules” and came out just before it got dark. Sometimes it paid off and he could catch an unsuspecting soul or two. Llorona disapproved of such underhanded tactics and The Reaper pretended to. In actuality, Grim admired his brother for cheating and outsmarting the living in that instance. Famine knew that by staying inside he would hear more from his mother and he was not in the mood now.
“I’m going out to wait for him,” he told his parents as he opened the heavy door and stepped into the twilight.
He was just out for a few seconds before he heard the familiar sound of a wagon’s wheels upon the earth. That had to be Ankou’s carriage. Famine peered down the road to the setting sun. Coming towards him was a man riding a horse drawn cart. This was his famous uncle. The harbinger of death that struck stark fear into those he encountered. The very sound of his rickety cart was enough to drive mortals indoors hiding in the dark in hopes it would not stop at their houses. He had no sooner finished these thoughts when the wagon stopped. From under the wide brim of his black hat, Ankou’s eyes glowed red as they peered down at Famine. Ankou’s voice was somewhat weak and hoarse when he spoke.
“Nephew.”
“Uncle Ankou. How are you?”
“Like usual, you know how it is.”
“Yeah.”
Famine actually knew all too well how it was. The family business made them all the same. Being civil was just a formality among them. The door of the mausoleum opened and Llorona stepped out. She nodded towards the seated man.
“Ankou. So nice to see you,” she said.
Ankou nodded back, tipping his hat.
“I brought something for you, Famine. Look in the back.”
What could this possibly be, Famine thought? Ankou brought over an occasional corpse every now and then, but never anything especially for him. He hurried over to the cart and peered in the back. Sitting there was a dog. It looked up at him with its cloudy, dead eyes and wagged its stiff tail. Famine could hardly believe what he was seeing.
“No!”
“Yes,” said Ankou turning towards his nephew and the animal, “he’s all yours.”
He suddenly remembered Llorona.
“That is, if it’s OK with your mother.”
Famine was busy petting the mangy grey beast that he momentarily forgot about his mother. He spun around and tried his best to look baleful to the woman.
“Oh, please. Can I keep him?”
Llorona stood there surprised as she could be. Her mouth was agape and her eyes wide as she stared from the dog to Famine to Ankou and back.
“You have to ask your father,” she finally stammered.
Famine scooped the dog from the cart as Ankou got down. He turned to pet the dull, bony faces of his horses and offer them a word of reassurance. Together, the three of them entered the mausoleum. The Reaper was standing in the doorway of the dining room to meet his guests. Famine rushed towards him with the dog in his arms.
“Look what Uncle Ankou gave me! Can I keep him? I have to ask you.”
The Reaper gave Llorona a glance as if to say no matter what I tell him, you’re going to be angry anyway . . . so what’s the point.
“Of course! A boy needs a dog.”
“I’m so glad you approve, brother. I was worried I’d have to take him back to the graveyard. That would’ve been too bad.”
“Yes, it would have.”
“Don’t want people to start thinking I give things back. That would look weird.”
The Reaper nodded and motioned towards the dining area.
“We should probably start.”
The family moved into the room and sat at the table. The coffin now held a body wrapped in a non descript shroud. The Reaper took his place at the head while Ankou and Famine sat across from one another.
“We got this one fresh just today,” Llorona said, “Hopefully it’s good.”
“I’m sure it’s fine. I never met an evil soul I didn’t like,” Ankou said.
One by one, the family put a hand upon the corpse. A glowing red light went from the body to the hand in an arc.
“Oh, you picked a good one, Llorona,” said Ankou.
The dog sat patiently at Famine’s feet during the feast. He looked down every few minutes to say something pleasant to the beast. Llorona glanced over every now and then to make sure Famine wasn’t giving it anything from the table.
“How is it going, Ankou? I had a rush a few days ago. There was a fire at hospital. I mean a lot of them were headed my way anyhow, but that fire helped me a lot. Didn’t have to make so many trips.”
“Nothing quite that exciting, I’m afraid. Haven’t had any mass pick-ups in a long time. I don’t get that sort of thing in my line.”
“Yeah, but you get the same reactions I do. That’s exciting.”
“Yes, it can be.”
Famine felt that he needed to talk to his uncle a little more than usual because of the out of the ordinary gift.
“You get that cart, though, uncle. The rest of us have to float everywhere we need to go.”
“I’d imagine floating would be easier than driving. You get there quicker.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t scare people the way your cart does.”
Famine thought he saw the taut, grey flesh on Ankou’s face form a slight smile. He took some more soul from the body, leaned back, and stroked his chin.
“I never thought about that. I mean, it’s just an everyday thing in my mind. I guess I never really stop to think about what’s going on.”
“I bet you have some stories,” Famine went on.
“Don’t get him started. Once he gets going, it’s hard to get him to shut up,” the Reaper said motioning towards his brother.
“Look who’s talking, Mr. I’m Whole Handedly Responsible for the Plague. You can go on, too.”
“Tell us a story, uncle.”
Ankou was silent for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. He then suddenly sat upright and looked towards Famine.
“There was this one time I chased someone for the entire night. I usually catch between ten and twenty a night, but this one time I wanted to take my time and really enjoy the catch. I saw him walking home from the market. He was just shuffling along without a care in the world. I loosened up the wheels on the cart a bit and started after him. He heard me and started walking faster, so I rode after him faster.”
“The thrill is in the pursuit,” Famine stated.
“Yes! You should have seen him run!”
“What happened then?”
“Well, I chased him for a little while. At one point I was right on top of him. Then I thought, it’s going to be over now. If I stop, this excitement will stop. So I stopped chasing him and let him get a little further down the road. He thought he had gotten away.”
Famine scooped the dog from the floor and put him in his lap despite a look of disapproval from his mother.
“Then, an hour or so later, I crept up on him again and started the chase over. This time, I rode after him even faster. He ran faster, too. He ran unlike anyone else I had seen run before. I stopped and started everything about three times over that night. Finally, just before sunrise, when he couldn’t run anymore, when he begged to be taken, I put him on my cart and rode away. That was a night.”
Famine was genuinely captivated by his uncle’s story. He had only heard about his father’s floating about, grabbing people, and then floating off again. Not a lot of excitement. Even when his mother was in the business, she didn’t do much more than sit on the side of the road.
“So, people are really that scared of you?” he asked.
“You should see them scatter and hide when the sun goes down. All I have to do is just move the cart a few feet and let them hear it coming. They howl like mad. Hell, I don’t even have to ride up to scare them. If they as much as see a hat like mine after dark, they react the same way.”
“You think I could ride with you sometime, Uncle Ankou?”
“I don’t think your uncle wants a tag along,” said The Reaper.
“Besides, you’re too young,” added Llorona.
“I thought you wanted me in the family business.”
“I do,” said the Reaper.
“I just don’t think now is the right time . . .” Llorona said.
“What bout you, Uncle Ankou? What do you think?”
Ankou was taken back by the whole situation. He had never had to deal with anything like this. He had to be careful of honoring his brother’s wishes, but at the same time, he was flattered with his nephew’s interest.
“Personally, I think it might do you some good to get out and learn. You’d be enriched by the experiences. You’d get a better understanding of what we do. No other being your age is out there doing things like this. Just imagine what it could do to your stature. Plus, I’d be happy to let you ride with me. I’d love a companion. But I have to listen to what your parents say.”
“You can trust me with Uncle Ankou. I’ll do what he tells me.”
The Reaper and Llorona looked at one another then to Famine.
“Ankou, let’s talk in the other room for a bit,” said the Reaper.
Llorona also rose from the table and followed the men. Next door, Famine could hear them talking amongst themselves. He couldn’t make out any words, but he could tell there was some general disagreement.
“I could take you along, too. The three of us could scare so many people. Just imagine the souls we’d collect, too,” Famine exclaimed as he petted the dog.
After a few more minutes, the adults returned and sat again. Famine looked eagerly between the three.
“We decided that you can go. You would learn a lot from your uncle.”
“This might also be just what he needs to get rid of that attitude. Some time out there working might get rid of it,” Llorona stated.
Famine was beyond excited. He looked to his uncle.
“We’re going to have some good times, boy.”
“When can we start?”
“I’d thought we could ride around tonight so you’d see what it was like.”
Everyone got up. Llorona lifted the corpse from the coffin and flung it over her shoulder.
“I need to store the left-overs. There should be a jar small enough for such an amount. Do everything Ankou says. Keep an eye on your dog so he doesn’t get lost. And don’t take anything that doesn’t need taking yet. The last thing we need is for you to get into trouble on your first night out hunting. Don’t get too warm, we don’t want you rotting prematurely.”
“Yes to everything,” Famine answered.
She gave Famine a quick kiss on the top of the head and floated out of the room. The Reaper, Ankou, and Famine exited the mausoleum and went to the waiting cart and horses. Famine put the dog on and followed suit. Ankou took the reins.
“It’s going to be a good night, brother. He’ll be fine.”
“I know, he’s in good hands.”
“I’ll make you proud,” said Famine.
“I believe you will.”
“Let’s be off. We don’t people to think we’re not coming,” Ankou told his new passenger.
“We wait for no man.”
“You’re learning already, Famine.”
Ankou clicked his tongue and the rickety cart started off down the road. Tonight, there were hearts to strike fear into and souls to be captured. |
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