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That Place Where Funnier's Visions Are Set to Prose

funnier6

Courage~
Joined
Jun 7, 2017
Location
the present
Gender
Voe
This may just end up being a place where I repost my writing comp entries for ease of access, but some ashes blew 'cross mind's blaze and enkindled a renewing of that story-dreaming spirit that once enflamed my faculties. Today I even felt as though I might dig up the ancient journal of olde, in which a young incarnation of myself once wrote down his visions of worlds beyond; until that day he ripped its pages and hid them where he nor any mortal eye should ever set upon them again. I don't expect to continue to edit these beyond any forgotten issues of grammar but I do not presume to speak for the distant stranger who comes to inherit my mind. Looking back distracts from the now.

A new day was dawning on the island. The sun shone on the waves, transforming the fish into bolts of light as they swam through the bay. Another beautiful morning, though most of the island residents were still in a deep sleep. The islanders had no desire to rise early and enjoy the picturesque scene. It was nothing they hadn't seen before, they thought. Why not sleep in instead? So the villagers missed watching the sunrise, the fish at play, the cool morning air, and the blood staining the water red.

A few days earlier, one of the villagers was having trouble sleeping. He was one of the first to take up residency on this island, and it was largely thanks to his efforts that the island had advanced and become so appealing to new residents. Everyone was so impressed by his efforts that he began to feel entitled to something better than that of a common resident, and took it upon himself to negotiate the islanders' problems even though he had no real authority. This was not the first time he had had difficulty sleeping. In fact, ever since that clown of a villager moved in, he was kept up practically all night thanks to his absurd habit of honking at ungodly hours. The first night this had happened, the clown was politely asked to cease and desist his disturbing commotion. The clown listened very solemnly, nodding his head in a most penitent manner. He apologized profusely for having caused his neighbor distress and promised it would never happen again, before immediately bursting into hysterical laughter.

The next night the honking was even louder. Still smiling politely, but with a dead look in his eyes, the sleep deprived villager again asked the clown to please be quiet. A door slammed in his face answered him. Still smiling, the insulted villager went home and got into bed. That clown won't be laughing for much longer.

The following morning, the red-eyed villager cheerfully entered Resident Services. He apologetically informed the secretary that there was a resident who was causing a great deal of trouble and unfortunately must be evicted at once. Very sad case, really nothing to be done. The secretary, an earnest but oblivious girl, was instantly at the ready to aid in the removal of the pestilent villager. She flashed around the room, a whirlwind of office supplies and paperwork. She dropped stacks of forms in front of the petitioner and cheerfully urged him to fill them all out and submit them for processing that should be finished in just ten weeks! The secretary was still explaining the finer points of the red tape when her petitioner smiled and mechanically walked out of the building. As he crossed the plaza, the infernal clown jumped in front of his path. A joyful expression crossed the clown's face as he expressed his pleasure at how well rested his neighbor appeared this morning! A glimmer entered the red eyes of the sleepless villager as he thanked the clown for noticing and walked away. Ten weeks? Unthinkable. There are other ways…

The night air seemed to be especially chilly tonight. With how little sleep he had lately, the invigoration of the cold was a welcome relief to the overtaxed villager. It wouldn't do to fall asleep now. Not when the end of this little game was so close. He stalked through the woods, silent as the grave, and took his place behind a tree. He readied his tools. Just one more sleepless night...

Earlier that day, a letter was being written. Purportedly from a lady friend of the clown's, it asked him to meet with her after midnight in the apple tree orchard. Teehee. Copying her writing style was no difficulty, but sneaking her stationary out of her home had been something of a challenge. He teetered as he approached the clown's mailbox. For a moment the mask slipped, and the interloper fell to his knees, waiting for the world to stop spinning. A bead of sweat slid down his face before he regained mastery of himself and deposited the letter. Just one short nap, that would have to do. There was work to be done.

Step, step, pause. Step, step, pause. The fool had come blundering in right on schedule. Even for a secret rendezvous he couldn't help but be noisy and obnoxious. Step, step, pause. The moon was shining off that pompous costume of his. Shuffle step pause. Just a little closer... An apple thunked to the ground. The perfect idiot, the clown came over to investigate. The net descended on his head, clotheslining him. He began to laugh at first, assuming it was some prank, until the moonlight glinting off the axe silenced his giggles. The time it took to sharpen the axe was well spent. In two blows he was clearly dead, but they did not stop coming until the clown was completely dismembered. Seeing what he had done, the killer burst into hysterical laughter, the harsh bitter laugh that was the exact opposite of the deceased clown's. It contained true glee, while the clown's had only ever possessed a hollow imitation.

The killer awoke suddenly. He was supposed to be doing something. Ah, yes, the body. He had passed out over the corpse and bloodied himself. Very careless, but he didn't mind. There was nothing anyone could do now. A hole was quickly dug and the body buried, along with the fallen apple he threw in on a whim. The sunrise sparkled at him as he washed away all the blood and gore. It looked like it was going to be another beautiful day.

Some time later, an apple tree had grown over the clown's grave. All the villagers had been very surprised when they discovered that he had moved away without even saying goodbye, but he had left a note saying that all was well and that only sad clowns stuck around for sad farewells. The killer's eyes flashed as he realized the apples on the tree were ripe. And not only ripe, but they seemed extra plump, a deeper red than the rest. All the residents were gifted an apple that day, each insisting it was the best they had eaten.

Everyone slept soundly that night.
 

funnier6

Courage~
Joined
Jun 7, 2017
Location
the present
Gender
Voe
The dull ring of an ancient grandfather clock was the first thing I was conscious of as I came awake. The sound was pain in my mind; a great fog was descended there, impeding my feeble attempt at thought. With great reluctance I opened my eyes. The chair I had been sleeping in was very old and ornate, though not uncomfortable. The room was built of cold stone, attested by the damp chill in my bare feet. A roaring fire brought light to the room, yet none of the usual warmth. Across from me sat an old woman so ancient and adorned she might have passed for decoration. A cocoon of bright robes enveloped her, so tight I fancied wings might soon rupture. At first she did pass for furniture, and gave me some shock when she tilted her broken grin towards me. She sat perched on the edge of her seat, her greedy eyes shined as they devoured me.

“Excuse me Madam," I croaked, "but I can’t seem to remember who I am or how I came to be in this place.”

“Not to worry, my child. You had a little accident, that’s all.”

She laughed and revealed a marble in her palm. The fire's flames cast a Mars-like shine upon it as they flickered across its glass...

“You tripped on this silly thing and fell down the stairs, naughty child! You may call me Madame May.” Between us was a table, and as she spoke she dropped the marble into a carved bowl that lay there and drew out a different one.

“Here child, let us see if we can’t restore your memory.” Madame May pressed the marble in my hand and sat back, mouth stretched wide in her irrepressible grin.

“Go on now boy, it won’t bite! Eat it all up now.”

I looked down at the little Mars in my hand. A pink-red core glowed beneath its flaming shell. For a moment I made to refuse, to mention glass did bite, actually. But gazing dazzled into its hypnotic glow, feelings of home so overcame me that I swallowed it without complaint. Astonishingly, it disintegrated almost at once, and fiery warmth blossomed in my chest. A young woman appeared in my mind, smiling and laughing. An entire whirlwind of people and places assailed me, days and nights and months and years all I saw in the space of an instant.

I awoke again in the chair. The great fire seemed to be dimmer now, and Madame May brighter, though what I gleaned of the chamber I gleaned through great glare. The visions made to sink me in their sea, the roar of a thousand voices made to drown my ears... Not a drop remained for more to enter...

“That woman you saw was named Marcia, and many years ago she was young and free.”

As she spoke so sifted the visions, all save the young woman's apparition. A small peace had fallen on Madame May’s face, her hungry eyes were closed, a sigh passed her lips. Valiantly I fought to clear the fog from my eyes, but to no effect. I floated as flotsam gasping in the vision’s inevitable current, glimpsing the surface but powerless to breach...

“Marcia was a child of the trees, from childhood she shunned the town to roam the leaves till nightfall would steal her home. One day she fell ill as she wandered the brook alone. A wood spirit it was that, tracing her path, came upon and healed her. The two quickly grew fond of one another. The wood spirit looked very much a young woman herself, excepting her gossamer wings, which only charmed Marcia the more. Each enjoyed the other's differences, as neither felt at home among her own kind.”

More images burst into my mind as the old woman talked. I was there as Marcia and her friend ran through the trees, heard their whispers as they told each other secrets, but most of all I felt the bitter cold that clenched my soul after the flight of the marble's heat. Why did the fire not warm...?

“Pardon me Madame May, but could I have another marble?” I was drenched in sweat and shaking, yet speaking came easily even as breath failed me.

Madame May’s lips curled into her toothiest smile yet as she assured me I was free to help myself. The next one burst into my mind the image of another girl, strikingly similar in appearance to Marcia. Perhaps the old woman had forgotten which of these houses my memory, but then, whose memories were these...? Why did they affect me so powerfully? Strange impressions came, I felt in the distance someone calling to me, calling my name... what was my name?

“For years they would meet in the forest and spend the day together. One day when Marcia was in full bloom, she told the wood spirit that she was to be married, and would not be able to come so often. The wood spirit begged her to stay, to reject her civilization and her humanity to dwell amongst the trees, but Marcia had grown to desire a life beyond the old oaks she had spent her life beneath.”

Madame May paused a moment to take breath, staring into the past. I was staring into that same past, reliving each moment she spoke of, while lives of still more people invaded my consciousness with each marble I consumed. The strain was immense, the full lives and memories crowded and swarmed against the aching walls of my skull. They were screaming, screaming for me to stop, but I could not. The heat was life, the cold was death, and suddenly I was aware that hardly any fire remained, and that Madame May must have lost twenty years since I had noticed her last!

“The wood spirit despaired at her friend’s departure, and sat alone at the little pond that had been their meeting place. She waited there every day for almost two years before Marcia returned. She was in anguish, sobbing as she told her friend that she was unable to have children, that her husband despised her for it. Marcia begged, pleaded, and cried all the more as she asked her dear friend if there was anything that could be done. The wood spirit was overjoyed to see her, but filled with sadness and jealousy that she had abandoned her and only returned to her in desperate need. She longed to tell her that nothing could be done, that she would have to be miserable just as the wood spirit had been miserable without her, but her heart was moved by pity for her dearest friend, and she hoped perhaps if she did this deed Marcia might be so glad that she renounce her wicked husband and stay. So the wood spirit went away to her secret place and took a tiny orb from the circle where it lay. She explained to Marcia that this orb was a small piece of her power, and that if she swallowed it, she would bear a child. Marcia threw her arms around her friend and thanked her until she had spent all breath and tears. The great relief overwhelmed her, and she fell asleep there by the bank of their little pond.”

Madame May drifted like she might fall asleep herself, and I again marveled at how young she had become. Her hair was now a rich dark brown, and her face had blossomed into something high and regal. There remained but one marble, and I planned to preserve it as long as I could bear. These were not my memories, of that I was sure, but still they belonged to me. They were all calling me now, begging me to stop, to go, to flee! But as I made to rise I found my legs had frozen to immobility. The fire was naught but embers, and I was suddenly terrified of interrupting Madame May to complain of chill.

“Marcia’s heart became a different heart that day. You’d think child, that that would have been enough, wouldn’t you? But it wasn’t. I know you can see it in your mind’s eye, the greed of that snake!”

I did see it, I saw it all, but my mind was in a thousand strange places, watching a thousand strange scenes. The other marbles too had all been children. Two boys and a girl, in addition to the other younger girl. Their lives had been shorter, or so it seemed by the lesser space they carved out of his mind. I felt I might die of cold, and took the final marble.

“Marcia was only able to have one child, and one wasn’t good enough. She came back to the forest, stalked the wood spirit to the secret place, and stole all but one of the orbs!”

The roar of Madame May’s voice shocked me still. Time's erosion had completely fled, leaving a furious young woman dimly lighted by the dying fire. The waterfall of memories ceased. The voices were mute.

“She took everything from me! How DARE she! How could she?! She was everything to me!

The fire was no more, all of it having fled into Madame May, who radiated a smoldering aura in its stead. Her cocoon fulfilled its threat of bursting and tore, revealing two large butterfly wings.

“She left me there to die! But she forgot one, and by that one, I lived. By that one, she died. And now, finally, so her all her children! My children! Do you see it now boy? Do you see how I killed them? Tainted wretches!”

I did see. I could see nothing else. She had toyed with them, taunted them, and finally murdered them… all to torture their mother. And she wasn't finished. Weeping filled my ears. There was no cold anymore. There was sea, and me at its floor.

“And finally, you boy, are the last! Are you not cold boy? Is there not a chill? Perhaps you’d like another life force to keep warm? You didn’t think Marcia’s children had real hearts did you? No. What they had was my life force, and I dug it back out of their corpses!”

Her words struck me out of my paralysis, my body overtaken with shivering as I realized what she had done, what I had done, and what she was still to do. The dying screams of my siblings pierced my soul even as the sight their gruesome bodies suffocated my breath, but they weren’t dead, they were still living in me. They whispered to me it was all right. And as I looked up and saw May reaching for my heart, I felt warm.
 

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