The Horrors of Marlorne

The Spectre

Flam was a boy who loved adventures.

Some evenings, when the moon was already high in the sky and everyone in the houses was asleep, he would throw pebbles at his friends' windows, and they, whatever time it was, would run downstairs to join him. They would move in groups of four or five, and enjoy playing those games that were forbidden by their parents during the day; they would hurl themselves from the hills on rusty metal sheets to use them as sledges, climb on the roofs of the houses to watch the starry sky, and light bonfires in the abandoned structures perched on the hills nearby. As soon as the sun peeped out from behind the mountains, everyone would return to their homes and never speak of those adventures again.

But when it was one of those special nights and the wind blew from the east, it was Flam's time. Like a march, he would gather his friends from the sleeping houses and lead them to a secret place that only they knew: the so-called "Shelter." When they arrived there, they would sit in a circle around an oil lamp and sharpen their ears, because on those nights when the wind blew from the east the most secret things happened.

The boy would stand in a spot where everyone could see him; then he would pull out of the backpack he always carried with him a white board and a marker. Hanging on one wall of the Shelter was a large map of the city. Together, the five would choose a special place and decide to spend the night there: sometimes it was a House, the Cemetery, sometimes a clearing in the woods. Once, however, one of the group made a special proposal.

He asked the others if, for that time, they could not try something different from the usual; he suggested going to a place he had once passed by with his grandmother, the old headquarters of an industrial manufacturing company that had closed many years before. It was in the business of carving coffins, and had had to close after a series of accidents that had upset the staff. Ghost sightings, lids that opened by themselves...in particular, the boy said, what had made that story famous was the fact that customers who came in to ask for information would find their names carved on the coffins. No one explained how this was possible, but the crowd considered it a sick joke.

Whether it had been a joke or not, the friends excitedly accepted that proposal; so that night, they went to sleep in the coffin-making company.

Armed with flashlights and sleeping bags, the five set off down the serpentine road under the glassy gaze of the moon, reaching the structure after an hour's walk. Red and white police ribbons indicated the dangerous nature of the building, but once they shook hands, it was as if they had said something mundane like, "I hope it doesn't rain!"

Everything was preserved exactly as it was when it was closed, despite the fact that the wood was punctured by woodworm and there was more dust than oxygen in the air. As the boys moved through the rooms, and the floor creaked like the bones of a mummy, they discovered offices, storage rooms, and waiting rooms. Everything must have been set up to attract the attention of the few customers who remained active just before the business closed for good: everywhere there were bouquets of wilted flowers, newspaper articles praising its professionalism, and luxurious coffins covered with heavy, now yellowish sheets.

The group found a room spacious enough and camped there, choosing it as their shelter for the night. They spent some time telling each other stories of terror to make it harder for the others to sleep; then, as they always did, they turned off their flashlights and crawled into their sleeping bags.

Perhaps inspired by one of the stories he had heard, or perhaps by the eerie environment he found himself in, Flam had a very strange nightmare that night.

He was standing in one of the dusty halls of the company, holding a dull flashlight in his hand, and he was alone. He did not know why, but he was seized by a breathlessness that made him feel sharp twinges of pain at the level of his diaphragm.