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a new classic by Edward Summer |
fter
dinner, after some television, after some minor bickering, the children
went to bed.
The night was still. The rolling sound of the sea was quiet and clear.
If you listened closely, you could hear the sound of the surf sighing
over the rocks. Soon, very soon the children were sleeping deeply.
In the terrarium, the frog made a low croaking sound that bubbled up through the water. The rose swayed gently, its petals still closed.
Teddy stirred. He wiggled out from under Fred's armpit and crawled up onto his chest.
"Fred. Fred." Teddy whispered leaning down near Fred's ear.
"Mmmmmm?" Fred murmered.
"Listen to me, Fred."
"Uh-huh." Fred was sound asleep. Some unconscious part of him was answering.
"A weird monster came in here last night and talked to the frog. The monster really was under Ginger's bed!"
"Shhhhh,
Teddy, I'm sleeping." Fred rolled over and pulled the bear back into his
arms. He crushed Teddy's face to his chest, then sighed and began to settle
down again.
Frustrated, Teddy struggled out from Fred's grip. By this time, Dunkey - who had been listening from under Ginger's pillow where she had hidden him - was craning his neck to see what was going on.
Teddy crawled back up next to Fred's face. He put his hand on Fred's cheek, then leaned over to speak.
"It came from the crack in the basement, Fred. I saw it down there, too, when we were playing hide and seek. You've got to stop it! It wants to hurt your frog!"
"And get the amulet, too." The frog's deep, bubbly voice interrupted.
"And get the amulet, too," Teddy echoed without thinking. Suddenly realizing what he had just said, the bear turned to look at the terrarium.
"Okay, Teddy. Okay." Fred said. "Just get off my nose and go to sleep, please."
Teddy hadn't noticed that he had been resting his tummy on Fred's nose. Embarrassed, he stood up straight again and listened. Apparently, the frog had nothing more to say, so the bear snuggled into the crook of Fred's arm. Teddy closed his eyes. He would make sure to open them again before Fred woke up. Satisfied with himself, Teddy drifted off to sleep.
A low, moaning sound filled the blackness of the basement.
It is the time, Sniffler thought. He listened for a moment from his guard post just inside the basement door. Asleep. All asleep. No sounds. No movements in the house.
Sniffler's claws clittered as he ran down the wood stairs. A dim yellow glow sifted up from the crack. Wisps of sulfurous smoke seeped into the basement.
Sniffler flared his nostrils. Yes, it is time! I can smell their scent. They are coming!
Glancing back toward the stairs, Sniffler sampled the air once more. Then he disappeared down into the crack.
He crept through long, crooked tunnels in the rock. Sharp granite splinters scraped against Sniffler's tough skin, but nothing slowed him. He crept down into the smoke and the yellow glow and toward the moaning sound.
Soon the crevice widened into a chamber. The dripping walls were covered with fungus and lichen that cast a damp, yellow-green glow over the wet rocks.
Beyond the chamber was a larger darkness. Sniffler's eyes picked out a shape in the center. He ran toward it.
Clambering up onto huge, flat-topped stalagmite, Sniffler rubbed deliriously against his master's razor-spined leg. Reon bent down and patted his friend's head. Sniffler's tail curled and uncurled like a corkscrew made of tape worms.
"Sound the call!" Tiny wisps of flame curled from Reon's mouth as he rasped out the words.
The low moaning note swelled louder. It rose into a shriek that pierced the darkness and the rocks. Boulders reverberated with the sound, carrying the vibrations down to the earth's deepest, seething magma.
In hidden pockets of frozen stone, creatures began to shiver and stir. They were all small, only a few inches long, none taller than a foot and had blended into the rocks during their centuries of sleep. Now, sharp claws pushed and scratched their way out of cracks and caves. Calcified joints cracked. Chips of limestone flaked from rigid elbows flexing painfully.. Stalactites fell from chins and blinded eyelids.
Tiny flaming eyes without pupils lit the darkness. Ground water turned to steam as it dripped and touched these burning eyes. The red glow lit faces that were visions of hell, faces so hideous that it seemed nothing could be more ugly or horrifying.
Like a blinding river of lava, streams of eyes - first a trickle, then a torrent - flowed toward the stone tower where Reon stood. The creatures came from all directions. They crawled up from deep crevices, dropped down from ceilings.. The ground shook and pulsated with their movement. Batwinged things wafted through the air, nested on the walls, hung from the ceilings. Stalactites dripped with horrid creatures. Stalagmites were covered with gelatinous crawling blobs. There was a stench that dulled the senses.
The cavern began to glow from the flaming eyes. As the light grew stronger, so did the sounds: twitters, gurgles, hoarse shrieks, murmuring giggles devoid of laughter, cries of pain, stabbing and shrill. The cacophony shook the rocks, sending showers of pebbles and sand everywhere that only increased the clatter.
Reon stood on his platform, the huge skull of some long-dead and unknown thing. He was by far the largest of all these creatures. Sometimes, he rested in a hunkering posture almost on all fours. It took the weight off his cramped and burning chest. But now, he raised himself to his full height. The sinews that laced the sharp spines covering his body began to stretch and snap.. He no longer had real skin: the surface of Reon's body had the shine of carbon steel overlaid with soot. Flat razor spines protruded like cancerous fish scales The muscles that powered his form were pinched and pierced by the very spines that held them in place.. They clicked and clacked as Reon moved, sometimes allowing a jet of flame or smoke to pass between them.
With his long tail thrust behind him, Reon balanced upright on his clawed feet. The single spur that formed his heel also helped to keep him standing. Sniffler looked up at his master proudly, his little forked tongue darting maniacally in and out.
Reon spread his arms wide. Excitement rippled across the demonic multitude. Reon stretched his fingers painfully. His minions hushed. They were so still that even the sounds of the earth itself became audible.
"We have found the frog," Reon spoke haltingly, forming each word with parched breath. "He is trapped, but not yet dead. It has been many centuries since we last moved among men. But now, the time to his doom and to our freedom from these twisted bodies is short.
"This time… this time…." Reon paused, gasping hoarsely. "This time we will succeed! No one yet knows we are here. I sense that the amulet is near, and I will force her to give it up to us. Remember! Remember! The prophecy promises that we will not die before the frog!"
He paused again. "I am told that the men of this place and time are small and weak. They are few in number and will offer little resistance. Come! Arise! Arise! The end is within our grasp! We shall be free! Free from this curse, forever!"
Quivering with excitement, Reon extended his arms straight overhead. The thought of revenge filled his burning body, ran pulsing through his limp wings like acid, making them spread behind him like batwing sails.
The demons shrieked with wails, screams, cries of wrenching delight! There were not syllables that ever formed real words. Just a sound. But the sound came together into a pulsing chant that was anguish and agony, torture and torment. It was tears of grief, tears of joy. The sound seemed to scream out "Freedom! Freedom! Freedom! Freedom." For a moment the wails and screams and cries beat together like a single, yearning heart, then drifted and fell apart into chaos and pandemonium.
In the center stood Reon. Every inch of his tortured body shivered and vibrated in union with his followers. If he could have cried, the tears would have put out the fire that devoured him. But instead, he opened his mouth and screamed silent flames up into the highest reaches of the cavern.
The frog stirred from his spot in the terrarium pool. A shock wave hit him, and he hopped up onto the shore. Then another came, knocking him against the glass. And another causing him to leap almost to the lid of the terrarium. His jump carried him across the tank, and he smacked into the glass side.
Fred
sighed in his sleep, clutching Teddy. Tony rolled over with a quiet moan.
Ginger slept soundly with Dunkey pressed against her side.
The frog fell against a large rock and lay still, panting. His throat ballooned in and out, forcing air into his tired lungs and racing heart.
Waves crashed loudly on the rocks below the house. The foam hissed. The waning moon, almost gone, set slowly, leaving only pinpoint stars to illuminate that cold, dark night.
©1980,1981, 19961997
Edward Summer, All Rights Reserved under the Berne Convention, All Characters
TM, R
Mrs. Seel, Theadore Rosebear,
Dunkey Hotie, Tony Calder, Ginger Stephens, Fred Stephens, Teefr, Reon,
Sniffler, are all (TM) (R)
created 3/7/97
revised 11/1/97, 10/24/98,
10/21/99
