One Strange House

Chapter Three

   "Okay, run me through the beast one more time," Jack says, utterly bewildered. I groan and explain once again about it's eyes and looks and all that such stuff, only for him to say, "There was nothing there. You're probably just tired. Maybe the asthma made a lack of oxygen to the brain?" and off he went rambling about possible explanations for my burst of crazy.

   "Let's go, we don't have time to contemplate whether or not I'm hallucinating. Let's go ask the people in the village where we are," I tell him, because you see I won't go about any of that Jumanji what year is it?? play (although his reason for saying that was totally justifiable) because there is not a snowball's chance in hell that we are anywhere on Earth. I mean, no tree is this big nor the skies this color. It had subtle but serious differences. This, I have decided, is somewhere entirely new.

   Walking to the village would very likely be pleasant were it not for the nooses, dolls, and the strangest feeling of being watched. Once we were in the village, I looked around and found that we stuck out like a sore thumb what with our modern clothing. Taking a page from many films, we sneaked around back of the houses to a clothesline and took some clothes from there. They were actually kind of cute, a sort of Victorian era steampunk vibe. Lovely.

   "Who should we talk to?" I ask Jack, being rather indecisive myself.

   "Perhaps that kid right there?" He replies, gesturing toward a girl leaning against the side of the house watching us. She was very likely our age, and had emerald green eyes with long brown wavy hair while also being almost as pale as I myself. She was pretty, but not perfect.

   "I wouldn't refer to the person supplying you with clothes as 'that kid'. Those are mine," she motions to our clothes, "and you two would make horrible bandits."

   "Yes, well, we don't plan to be bandits you see, we're rather lost. We fell in through the hole, and now we're here surrounded by," I caught myself before saying 'strange puppets who's expressions followed you where ever you went' which by the way were all around us, and instead continued on with, "by, uh, well, all this. Yes, all these strange surroundings and things. Please, where are we, how did we get here? How will we get home? Why do factories make your clouds and what's with the erm.. well..."

   "The marions? The nooses? The shadrahki?" She readily supplied, grinning, "A marion is one of those off-white guys you have watching you. They come and go, only when no one sees, and are believed to house spirits. The fact that they travel without people moving them supports this. The nooses are for people who wish to lose themselves. We support the idea of such, because it is an epidemic here where people will commit suicide in groups. The reason is unknown, but the nooses are there in groups so that they may be together until the end. Shadrahki are hulking shadows with hypnotic gazes, but beware because they are not at all shadows; they only have the appearance of such. They are very, very real. These things work in harmony to create more and more marions, and it's why it's taboo to look a marion in the eye. It's said to compel one to want to commit a group suicide, once enough people have looked at the marion. It may be twenty years after you looked at it, but it will still occur. Once you look them in the eye, the urge will always be there. I believe in no such thing," she abruptly stopped and looked one right in it's black, scribbled eye with her face only an inch or two from it's own, "As I'm sure you can see by what I' m doing. Anyway, the shadrahki bring people here as well as get them to notice the marions, the marions place their little curse, the nooses kill, and bing bang boom, you have more and more marions."

   As she stood there smiling as though this were totally normal, I wanted to scream. Where exactly have we landed ourselves?!

   "Oh, and you're in Abaton. Everyone born here will, inevitably, become part of the cycle and then a marion. No one dies by any means other than noose. It's just unheard of," she answers my question.

   "Even you?" Jack asks, "Even us?"

   "Even I, and if you stay here long enough, even you," she replies, "Come. Let me take you to someone who may be of assistance. Leading us through several dark back alleys (it was still night you see, and now even more so) we saw many marions, hidden behind corners and within walls. Sometimes, I'd see the eye of a shadrahk behind them, compelling me to look at the marions' eyes. I see now, how they pair to bring death to this land. Eventually, we went underground until we came to see an old man hunched over a table at the far end of a tunnel. A rather dimly lit tunnel at that; candle light doesn't seem to do much these days.

   The girl, whom I now realize has not given us her name, shushes us and strides confidently to see him. "Father Ka, Father Ka, there are people for you to see Father Ka. Father Ka, they are in need of help. They are in need of help, Father Ka. They are from foreign lands Father Ka, they need a way home," she said all of this in a high, sing-song voice but not at all too loudly. I was surprised he could hear her, until he turned and looked at us.

   A frail old thing with wispy grey hair and wrinkled as a prune, what stood out about Father Ka was his eyes. They're milky and white, and it dawned on me that he was very well blind. I'd read that when blind, the other senses are sharpened. Perhaps that's why he can hear so well, in his trembling state?

   "Yes, I have been awaiting this time for so very long. Emma, please run and get tea from upstairs. Children, you have much to learn and therefore will need refreshments," he turned and began clicking, then found his way to some chairs. He seemed to be using echolocation, which is odd considering humans aren't very well known to do it. The girl's name apparently was Emma. We'd been here all of eight minutes and already learned quite a few important things. Perhaps this will be worth it.

   "Father Ka," I said, mimicking Emma's voice, "Father Ka, why are we here?"

   "Because," he said with a deep drawl, "Your grandmother's marion sent for you."

Author's Note: Marion (plural Marions) is pronounced Mare-ee-in/Mare-ee-in-ss. Shadrahk (plural Shadrahki) is pronounced Shod-rack/Shod-rack-ee. Also, I do not condone suicide. It is never the answer, and you can always get help. Call your country's Suicide Help Hotline if you truly cannot go on; they will assist you in ways you never thought possible. They're people there because they care for you and want you to stay. I only used suicide as a way to further my story; I am not promoting it, and was on the fence about even naming it specifically. Self-harm and suicide is never the answer. I'd also like to mention that my chapters will now consistently be approximately 1,200 words because my usual 800-1,000 just felt much too short I mean these are chapters not paragraphs, am I right? Anyway, see you next time. I should have another update in the next week, maybe sooner. I'm shooting for either this Saturday, or Wednesday-Thursday. Sorry friends, and have a good day!