After-Life

Chapter 16. The Rats of Hamelin

Eric's hotel room swirled around in a thick, viscous spiral of vapor, moisture, and gloop. By the time everything had stopped spinning; Mabel, Eric, and Kristoph found themselves on their hands and knees, gasping for air and patting down their pyjamas. Surprisingly, their clothes were bone dry; yet, each of them felt certain they were dripping with an indescribably soggy moisture, which chilled them to the core.

"W-wh-wha-what the hell was th-tha-that?" Eric struggled, through chattering teeth, letting go of Sven's hand quickly. The ghostly twins looked at each other with an expression that appeared to indicate this was a regular reaction to such an irregular event.
"We have taken you all back to the day the Piper came to town," Claus explained, he pointed ahead of him toward the town of Hamelin in the distance. The cobbled path before them merged in with an ornate bridge, leading into the town centre.

Eric and Mabel stared wide-eyed at the scene, both struggling to believe what their senses were telling them. Kristoph wrinkled his nose and glanced at his two friends, somewhat envious of their awe and fascination. He didn't want to break the spell they both seemed to be under, but their faces seemed to suggest that they'd entered a magical land of wonder when all he could pick up on was:
"Rat piss. Guys, the place stinks of rat piss!" Kristoph pulled his t-shirt up over his nose, as the acrid smell stung at his sinuses.
Mabel pulled her vest over her nose in turn as her mystified senses gave way to clarity, and the stench stemming from the city reached her nasal passages too. "I suppose it's to be expected," her muffled voice reasoned, "there is a rat infestation here, after all."
Eric looked at them both and shrugged, "Can't smell a thing."
Mabel and Kristoph's eyes bulged widely, both watering from the intensity of the stench.
"Seriously?" Kristoph choked, "You're not fazed by it? Eric, it is so powerful!" He choked as he breathed in; the rich aroma struck the back of his throat, like a knife.
"Nope," Eric beamed, "not a thing. These passages have been able to detect smell for several years now, finally, it's come into use. All those years of smoking!" He chuckled non-plussed as his two friends expressed their concerns silently in a stolen glance, between each other.
The twins, Sven and Claus, had watched this brief discussion with growing impatience. Finally, Sven called out in a rather aggrieved tone, "Come, follow us!" and not bothering to wait for the adults to stall them further, he and his twin brother, skipped ahead.

As they crossed over the bridge, the signs of the plague of rats became even more apparent as they gawped at the build-up of rodent faeces piled up in nooks and crannies, with a couple of the whiskery culprits gnawing at indistinguishable scraps. Upon entering the eerie town centre, the first thing that hit them was the silence. The stillness of the epicentre of Hamelin was such that Mabel, Kristoph, and Eric stopped in unison and looked around, puzzled.
"But... where is everyone?" Kristoph frowned, turning around in confusion to look about the town.
Claus pointed ahead to a large structure before them. The front façade was adorned with windows facing out toward them with ornate décor around the rooftop; the building stood out as one of the more grandiose designed constructs in the town. The third and fourth-floor walls displayed a host of cast iron bells that hummed quietly, as though they had not long ceased their clamour for attention.

"That is the town hall," Claus nodded, "Mama und Papa are in there, with many of our friend's parents too."
"Will they be able to see us, if we enter?" Mabel asked uncertainly, suddenly very much aware of their attire which would not conform to the societal norms of 1284 AD.
"You will not be seen," Sven answered, in his sing-song voice.
"You are all ghosts, in this world;" Claus smiled sweetly, as he and his brother raced toward the town hall doors together.
Eric shuddered quietly, "ghostly children. You guys get Vikings as your first soirees with the afterlife, I get ghostly children. How's that fair? Still, this is summat else! The history, I mean breathe in the heritage around you!"
"I'd rather not!" Kristoph winced, "Can we please get to the town hall, this smell is insane!"
Hurrying their pace, the trio walked up to the large oak doors of the town hall. Mabel reached out to pull them open, only to fall directly through. She shivered as she regained her composure, while Eric and Kristoph merged through the doors behind her, smirking.
"You must send us a postcard on your next trip," Eric muttered, chuckling at his joke.
"Hush!" Mabel rolled her eyes, "it's the infamous town meeting. Listen!"