Once upon a time… Oh, don’t worry. See, I know you’re thinking, ‘Oh, man, not another far away magical kingdom,” but this story is the furthest from a charming, magical tale as any. It begins on a thunderous Thursday evening…
Lightning cut through the sky, echoing its heart-splitting booms throughout the land. I huddled next to a dumpster, crying. My messenger bag was thoroughly soaked, and though I had not dared to check inside of it, I knew my notebooks would be ruined. All of that time, all of those stories would be washed away by a freak thunderstorm. I cowered next to the dumpster, breathing only when I had to, for the smell of trash threatened to make me hurl. As I waited, praying that the rain would stop soon, I felt something brush against my leg. I looked down, thinking it must have been the strap of my bag. Instead, I found myself staring into the eyes of the most freakish rat I had ever seen. There were craters in its body through which I could see
I jumped up, screaming, and backed away from the rat, but the rain had made the ground slippery. I fell, yelling as I caught myself by my elbows. Before the pain had truly abated, I felt the beast’s furry body crawling by my foot. If I hadn’t been nauseated before, I certainly was then. I watched as the rat moved around my body and out into the alleyway. I lay where I was, hardly daring to take a breath, as I glimpsed a flash of metal. For a second, it looked as though the rat had a sword. I shook my head; rats don’t carry swords. Yet, even as I brought my mind back to reality, the rat turned to look at me and tilted its head, as though it were beckoning me to follow it. Then it bounced over to a nearby manhole. It paused, and then the cover of the manhole lifted up and hovered in the air.
I pinched myself hard, but I was
I heaved myself up from the pavement, wincing as I moved my now-bruised elbows. I stood up and walked over to the manhole. The rat scampered down into the depths. I looked up at the sky, the rain pouring onto my face as the lightning grew ever more-fierce.
What am I doing? I thought to myself as I clambered onto the ladder and descended below the street. The manhole cover fell back into place, blanketing me in darkness. I grasped tightly onto the ladder, my bag dangling from my shoulders. As panic began to nestle in my mind, a strong wind suddenly detached me from the ladder.
I raced upwards, my bag flying off of my shoulder. I screamed, holding my hands behind my head, waiting to slam into the manhole cover, but I never did. Instead, I kept flying upwards, faster and faster, until lights shot through my vision and butterflies filled my stomach. Finally, I began to slow down. The wind pushed me straight, just as the ground met my feet and I was immersed in light.
I knelt down and closed my eyes for a moment. I bit my lip, waiting for my stomach to settle. When it was finally calmer, I opened my eyes and immediately let out another scream. I was in what appeared the hallway of an old house, and I was dangling from its high
My heart pounded in my chest. I was afraid to move, in case I were to fall the fifteen feet onto the actual floor. I glanced around the hallway, but there seemed to be no sign of life. Well, that was somewhat true. I was the only living creature in that house that night, but I was certainly not alone.
I heard a chittering noise and looked around to see the zombie rat from earlier. It beckoned me with its head, again, but this time, I shook mine. I was not going anywhere else with it; this night had already gone far enough. Then I saw it again: the rat held a tiny sword, no larger than a pushpin, in its front left paw. It wandered closer to me, still tilting its head at me. Suddenly, I felt something sharp jab my ankle from behind. I looked around to see a hoard of rats, all dead and rotting, and all carrying identical, pushpin-swords. One by one they jabbed at my ankles.
“Okay, okay!” I cried. “I’m going.”
I followed the lead rat along the hallway, shuffling my feet and glancing constantly up at the floor. We walked to the end of the hallway, through grand double doors and into a dimly-lit ballroom. I yelled and nearly peed myself as I walked straight into spiderwebs. One large spider dropped from the center of her
“Hello?” I called out.
The lights brightened, and at the sight, I really did vomit. Below (or above?) me were dead people. Some were skeletons, while others were still mostly intact, and all of them were pointing at me, laughing in a way that chilled all of the blood in my body. I looked around the room, at the sanguine-stained walls and the tables with food so old it had all fossilized. One of the skeletons moved along the floor, onto the walls, drawing ever closer to me. I tried to run, but the rats were at my ankles, pricking me with their swords so that beads of blood dripped onto the floor below.
“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” said the skeleton in a monotonous voice. “We just want you to join our party.”
“I don’t want to party. I want to go home.” I felt tears running down my face.
The skeleton chuckled as it reached me. It held out a gloved hand. “Just one dance, please?”
“What?” I said, incredulously.
Suddenly, music began to play. I don’t know where it came from, but it was the most beautiful and mournful melody I had ever heard. It was as though someone had churned together all of the sadness and all of the beauty that the world had ever known. I took the skeleton’s hand, and hardly noticed as the life faded from my body, for as one life ended, a life of dancing began.
– Nina Appasamy