Malkir
Short Story
by Nicholas Keslar
Mark Windsor came home to his North Hills apartment in
Pittsburgh with his lips stretching from ear to ear. He ran over to Kristy, his wife, and wrapped his immense arms around her petite body.
Honey, why are you so happy, inquired Kristy, Did you stop at the bar on
your way home?
We're moving this weekend, spurted out Mark, We're moving to the
mountains!
What? Are you serious? What the hell for, asked Kristy with eyes
poking out of her sockets.
I’m opening up a business. We are going to be bringing in the dough!
The town we are moving to is fifteen miles from any bars. My uncle
Tony lives there and he's giving me ten acres of his land to build on. I’m Going to make the best damn sports bar anyone has ever seen!
Where are we going to live? Have you even thought about that one?
How can you just jump into shit like this without even talking to me
about it, Kristy glared at him with her piercing, large, blue eyes, What
about Tommy? He starts kindergarten next year. Are you sure it would
be good for him to go to some redneck, hillbilly school?
That is the most ignorant thing I ever heard come out of your mouth!
First, it's only November and he doesn’t start school 'til next
September. If you don't approve of the school, we’ll send him to a private
one. It’s not like we won't have enough money, retaliated Mark.
Kristy gave in to Mark's wit and determination. Two weeks later, a
Green Ford Econoline E350 moving van arrived at their small crowded,
urban abode. Two large, testosterone abundant men helped carry out all
of the Windsor's belongings. Kristy frantically complained to the
irritated men, Be careful with my mother’s china! Those dishes are worth
more than your annual salary!
The moving men shrugged this off of their shoulders as the larger one
leaned into his partner's ear, It never fails. We always have to deal
with some arrogant bitch. The Windsors arrived in their 1998 Silver
Ford Taurus at a road sign entitled Devil's Drive. This is our last
turn, guys, said Mark.
Oooh! We live on a road that says devil on it. That’s creepy, isn’t
it Mommy, asked Tommy.
It’s ok, honey. It’s just a name and that’s all, reassured Kristy.
Devil’s Drive was a long, windy, and old back road, which led only
deeper into the wilderness. They approached Uncle Tony's green, two-story
house and turned right at the small dirt and gravel path before it.
This is our driveway. Our house is only a short ways back, stated
Mark.
They drove approximately 200 yards and came to a newly placed
double wide trailer that Tony had previously made arrangements for. They
quickly entered the house and searched around as they awaited the moving men.
This kitchen is beautiful. I'll love cooking in it. My God, this
whole house is wonderful and so huge, exclaimed Kristy.
Did you see the huge bathtub we have in our bedroom Kristy, asked Mark
as he walked around aimlessly, Holy shit! We have a hot tub on the
side deck. I’m gonna love it here, baby!
Where's my bedroom at, Daddy, asked Tommy as Mark quickly showed him
a bed with bright wallpaper saturated with polar bears, sheep dogs, and
other white beasts. Wow! I never saw such great walls in my life! I
love it, Daddy.
Honey, don't you think it is kind of odd? This wallpaper just creeps
me out. All those white animals, some of which I have never seen
before, pointed out Kristy as she felt goosebumps rise on her delicate
skin.
The sun went down gloriously their first night there, spreading rays
across the treetops. Tommy sat on the living room couch and peered out
the front window with large hazel eyes. He was in a dead stare at a small
rabbit, munching on their lawn, when he suddenly jerked his head at
voracious movement detected out of the corner of his eye. The rabbit,
noticing the same strange movement, quickly jolted into the abyss.
Tommy peered straight forward, noticing a minuscule white blur far
into the woods past their unsightly driveway of mud. He squinted hard,
but could still only make out a faint, motionless, white blur.
Daddy, Tommy called out, pointing at the blur. What is that?
I’m sure it’s nothing, Tommy. It’s probably just a rock or an old tree
stump, assured his masculine, confident father.
But it wasn’t there earlier! I know it wasn’t, shouted Tommy.
You probably just didn’t notice it before. I’m sure it will still be
there tomorrow. Go to bed and get some sleep. We have got a lot
to do tomorrow.
The Windsors went quietly to their beds and slept better than they had
ever before, without the roar of traffic or the honking of horns,
except for Mark. Mark tossed and turned in his sleep all night, with
frightful expressions on his visage.
The next mourning, Kristy prepared eggs over easy with crispy bacon
and toast. I slept perfectly last night. I think I can really learn to
like it here, approved Kristy as she handed mark and Tommy their
dishes.
I wish I could say the same. I had the strangest dream last night
and I woke up in a cold sweat, complained Mark.
What did you dream about, Daddy, inquired Tommy.
Indians, replied Mark, There was a terrible battle between two
tribes, over a hundred years ago. The one tribe's shaman was trying to
call upon some ancient spirit to help them win. The rest is too horrible
to describe.
Awe, you poor dear, sympathized Kristy as she patted her beloved
husband on the back.
The sun went down with the same glory as the night before. Tommy
peered into the cloudless sky at the stars and listened to the wind whistle
through the trees. Then, as before, a movement caught the lower corner
of his right, hazel eye. He gazed at the same white blur the night
before. Something was different this time. Tommy felt a chill move down
his spine. The white blur was closer. It was just enough to be
noticed. The object was still not identifiable but it was definitely closer.
A green twinkle appeared for a brief moment at the top of the white
thing and never returned. DADDY, shouted Tommy.
What is it son, asked his confused father.
Look, Daddy, look! The white thing is closer tonight. I swear it
is. And, a green glow came from it a little bit ago!
Tommy, I think it is time you went to bed. I know you aren’t used to
this environment and it s probably just your imagination acting up,
replied Mark as Tommy slumped to his bedroom.
Mark took a look out the window at the white thing and said in a low
breath, That is odd.
He turned his head to see that Tommy had obeyed his orders and then
turned his attention back to the window, What! Where did it go? I
know I saw it.
Mark felt chills under his epidermis as he took a third look and saw
the white, less blurry object/creature stand closer and ever motionless.
Mark rubbed his eyes and the white thing was gone once again. Mark
felt a sense of paranoia race through him and then realized he needed
sleep and would think more about this strange happening in the morning.
Mark came home the next day around seven in the evening and kissed his
wife as she finished preparing spaghetti and breadsticks for dinner.
Honey, I think we should have this bar running in no time. I talked to
the contractors today and they plan to have the building ready for
business by June, said Mark.
That's great, dear. But what do you plan on doing for work in the
meanwhile, interrogated Kristy.
Don't worry, babe. I start work next Monday at the sawmill. It
doesn’t pay much more than minimum wage, but it will have to do until June,
appeased Mark.
Well you better watch what you spend your money on, dear. We're
going to have a very limited budget until this bar of yours brings in some
money, criticized his loving wife.
Mark sat down to read the newspaper and couldn’t concentrate. The
white thing occupied his thoughts almost overwhelmingly as he thought to
himself. What is that thing? Maybe it's just a stray dog. But it
never barked or moved while I looked at it. No it was definitely too big
to be a dog. It was more like a bear! A great white bear? No, that's
not possible in Pennsylvania. It's probably just my imagination. But,
Tommy saw it also! I'll go for a walk tomorrow and see if I can find
it.
The sun set as beautifully as it had the past few nights. Tommy sat
in the middle of the course, maroon carpet and played with his matchbox
cars, racing a blue Mustang against a red Camaro. Of course, the
Mustang won every time. After all, it was a Ford and Fords were the only
vehicles Windsors could ever possess without being disowned.
Mark lied on the couch and watched the Fox 10 o'clock news, with the
headline story featuring archeology. The anchorwoman, standing
somewhere in a forest reported, Today multiple Native American remnants have
been found deep in this long forgotten forest. Archeologists have found
countless arrowheads, hatchets, and spears slightly below the surface.
Recent digs have found some Indian corpses that appear to have been
mangled. Many of these skeletons have multiple fractures caused by
someone or thing of great force. A skull has been found with a large chunk
of the cranium missing and enormous claw marks in its place. Scientists
are baffled. Just what kind of animal could have done so much damage
to so many people? The claw and teeth marks on every corpse are
identical and yet scientists are clueless as to of what form of beast did
this. The only thing the marks even slightly resemble is that of a bear.
Perhaps we have uncovered the missing link here
Mark turned off the TV and wondered about the white thing beyond his
yard. He looked out the window and saw nothing his yard, his driveway,
and an endless array of trees.
He turned his head away from the window and sighed. Then, something
caught the corner of his eye. He jolted his head back toward the window
and there it was! It was there and closer than ever. The white thing
stood there and gazed back at him from only 100 feet away, just beyond
his driveway at the end of the mighty woods.
Mark opened his eyes wide in astonishment and whispered, What are
you? Mark squinted his eyes at the four-legged beast or apparition or
whatever it really was. Its eyes twinkled for a split second in a green
spark, and then returned to black, hollow circles. The white thing's
mouth opened slightly and Mark witnessed its long, pointed, teeth.
Those teeth, my God, those teeth! I've never seen anything like it. And
those canines are huge. It could probably bite a small tree in half!
The white thing closed its massive jaw and stood motionless. Its
long, shaggy hair quivered slightly as wind moved across it. Dear God,
that thing is real! Mark ran to his small, oak, gun cabinet and reached
for his binoculars to get a closer look. He returned to the window to
view his yard, his driveway and a vast array of trees, but nothing else.
Mark pulled his blue, satin sheets up to his neck and wondered when
Kristy would come home, or if she even would. She had been gone a lot in
the past week with either poor excuses or no excuses at all. He has
woken up early several mornings to find her just pulling in the driveway,
when he had fallen asleep with her the previous night. However, he
could not imagine his beloved wife ever being unfaithful to him.
Then the beast invaded his mind. Crazy thoughts raced across his
brain as he wondered just what the hell that thing was. He thought maybe
it was a rare animal, or maybe it was a demon, or a lost soul, or even
Satan himself.
Mark drifted into unconsciousness uneasily and within twenty minutes he
broke out in a cold sweat. He tossed and turned rapidly and violently.
He flailed his arms and legs, sending his sheets flying across the
room. He thrashed his head multiple times against his feather pillow and
squinted his eyes in surreal pain.
Then, he came. The shaman from the previous dream came walked up to
Mark in the middle of the same forest his house now sat in. In the
background, the two ancient tribes from before were violently in battle,
slaughtering each other. The long black haired, dark skinned, aged
shaman spoke, All of my people died on this day. As well, did our enemy.
It was all my fault. I should have known better than to unleash such
evil on this world. I let hatred and lust for vengeance consume and I
acted irrational and foolishly. Now the evil still exists and still
hunts. You must stop it. You are the only one who can. Don't let my
mistake take more lives.
Mark answers his new dream acquaintance, What do you want me to do?
What evil? Is it the white creature I saw the last few nights? How
can I stop it?
The shaman replies as he disintegrates into nothingness, Do not make
my mistake. Violence is not the answerrrr...
Wait!!! What am I to do!!! shouted Mark. Then, Mark woke up, It's
2:30! Holy shit! I need to get some sleep. He got up and relieved
his bladder in the hallway bathroom. Kristy was nowhere to be found. He
wiped the sweat from his brow with a Bounty paper towel and quickly
drifted back into his slumber.
Kristy pulled in at 6am and tried to silently tip toe to her bed,
hoping Mark wouldn’t notice. Mark woke up screaming as she walked in the
door after having another dream of an ancient Indian battle. What are
you doing? Why on God's green earth are just coming home? What the
hell is going on, asked her extremely worried and outraged husband.
I was at my new friend Marcy's place. Her husband left her and she's
always so lonely. We were talking about growing up while watching old
reruns. I accidentally fell asleep on her couch. I'm sorry for
worrying you, honey, retaliated Kristy.
I don't know what to say. This is two nights in a row that you went
to Marcy's and came in this late. I don't even know if I can believe
you anymore, especially after that time I found you at that bastard's
house in Oakland, shouted Mark.
You know I did nothing with Ron. He was just a close friend in need
of help, and you know I don't mean that kind of help. I thought you
had more faith in me than this, sobbed Kristy.
Whatever, sighed Mark as he got out of bed and walked to the couch
where he slept that night. The dreams returned again, much more intense
than before. The Indian Shaman of a forgotten tribe approached Mark
once again, You cannot stop it with weapons. It is completely
invincible to any material objects. You must prove to it that its purpose is
obsolete. You have to prove it wrong. Show it how strong you are on the
inside. Show it human compassion
The next mourning, Kristy made pancakes and sausage for Mark and
Tommy. When Mark refused to eat the pancakes and made himself a bowl of
Cheerios instead.
Kristy asked, What s wrong, dear? You always love pancakes.
Not in the mood, replied Mark. He sat at the couch and ate his bowl
of cereal, while watching Bugs and Daffy. No more words were
exchanged between Kristy and Mark. Tommy sat in his chair and munched away at
his breakfast, pretending not to notice the lack of communication. He
always knew when there was trouble between Mom and Dad. However, he
had seen so much worse than just a mere lack of conversation. He knew
that it couldn’t be all that bad, since Dad slept at home.
An intense snowstorm hit at two in the afternoon. By three, it was
obvious the Taurus wasn’t going anywhere. Mark grew very bored and
realized how much land he now owned, thirty acres, and he still had yet to
explore it. Tommy, would you like to go for a walk outside? If the
snow is too deep, I'll carry you, urged Mark.
You bet, Daddy, shouted Tommy, jumping up and down.
They walked along the driveway and noticed a small path in the woods
branching off. They decided to follow the path and see where it led.
The snow came up to Tommy s heavily covered knees. Tommy assured his
dad that he was fine and needed no assistance. As they walked deeper
into the woods they looked around in awe. They observed squirrels running
up and down trees and in and out of numerous nests, high in the
treetops.
Look, Tommy, look, whispered Mark while pointing his finger straight
ahead.
Daddy, it s a deer! Do you think I can pet it, asked his excited
son.
No, son, it s a wild animal. It will never let you come close
enough, said Mark.
The small antlerless, whitetail noticed them and leaped away. Mark
and Tommy made their way still deeper into the woods. Mark wasn’t even
sure if they were still on his property, but saw no reason for this to
be problematic. Tommy noticed a small rustling far to his right. He
looked over in confusion and heard it again, only this time it was
louder. Tommy took off running towards the noise. Mark was staring at the
sky, noticing the sky growing darker and spoke, We should head back,
Tommy. It s getting dark out here.
He looked to where Tommy was standing and noticed his footprints going
beyond where he could see. He shouted in horror, TOMMY! Where are
you? Get your ass back here!
He yelled Tommy's name continuously with no response. Goosebumps
covered his skin and sweat formed on his brow. Mark began following the
footprints in an ever-quickening pace. Mark heard a loud shrill scream
and recognized it as belonging to his son. It was quickly silenced and
followed by a thud. Mark sprinted after the footprints deep through
thorns and small trees, cutting himself all up. He stopped and looked
down. Tommy's footprints ceased to exist. In place of them where huge,
animal-like prints with incredibly long claws. Mark ran after these
prints, deeper into the woods and noticed a small trail of blood between
the tracks of the four-footed beast. He ran quicker screaming Tommy's
name like a young girl crying for her mother.
He followed the footprints and trickles of blood into an open area.
The tracks and blood suddenly ended here. What? How can this be? What
the hell has my son and where did its footprints go? They couldn’t
have just disappeared! Could it be the thing I've seen out the window the
last few nights? Can it fly?
Mark stood still in complete shock as panic danced through him like
needles. He stared at the trail of footprints behind and remembered how
his son's had merged with the ungodly ones that have ended before his
own eyes.
Mark felt all sense of rationale leaving his mind and madness flowing
in like a river. He raced back to the house, not noticing the thorns
tearing into his flesh. He ran into the house and dialed 911.
As he got off the phone, Kristy came up to him and screamed, What the
hell is going on? Where is Tommy? Where the fuck is our son? Will
you fucking answer me?!
Mark just stared and Kristy and fell to the floor, sobbing and
eventually screaming. His movements resembled that of a mild seizure. Kristy
kicked Mark in the side with her slender leg, and demanded, Tell me
what happened! Where is our son? Why the hell won't you answer me?
He's gone. He's simply gone. I looked away for a minute and he was
gone. I followed his footprints and something got him, replied her
recently insane husband.
What do you mean something got him, asked his frantic wife.
I don't know. It might have been a bear, but I don t think it was.
Those footprints where huge! They were not like any I have ever seen.
Oh God! It has him. I know it does. I never heard such a scream, not
even in the worst of scary movies. Tommy's scream. Oh God, I'll never
forget that horrid scream, ranted Mark.
Police cars, fire trucks, and an ambulance congested the Windsors
yard and driveway. A large group of firemen and police made their way
through the woods with spotlights, searching for poor, little Tommy.
One police officer approached Mark, Good evening, sir. I am officer
Roger Martin. I know this is very disturbing and distressing for you
and I guarantee we will do everything in our abilities to find your son.
In order to do this, you have to tell me absolutely everything that
happened this evening.
Mark told the police officer his story to the best of his ability of
how he lost his son. He even told the officer about the white thing he
observed the past few nights. The police officer looked at him in
complete bewilderment and then asked Mark, Would you like to show me
exactly where you were when this happened? It would help us out enormously
if you would.
Mark led him and two other officers deep into the woods. Mark
remembered exactly everything where he and his son had been vividly,
surprising even to him. Mark shouted, There! That's my son s footprints.
They followed the track of small prints, which ended
abruptly. No. No! What the hell is going on? Those other prints, they re
gone. I swear on my father s grave, I saw those prints today, those
ungodly footprints. And the blood, what the fuck happened to my son's
blood? It was all here only an hour ago, Mark sobbed loudly as he put his
head between his legs, No. No. This can't be happening. I m going
mad.
Roger told one of the other officers to lead Mark back to his house
and sit him down. Mark and Officer Jon Williams headed back hearing the
faint echo of Roger saying, Just what the hell is going on here? His
tracks can't just end like that. And what on God's green Earth was
that man talking about?
The police and firemen searched for several more hours with no
success, stumped over the ended path of footprints. The paramedics gave Tommy's hysterical parents sedatives before they became completely insane.
Around midnight a search helicopter flew above the entire forest as the
police and firemen searched frantically. Their search led them miles
from the house as Kristy and Mark passed out in their bed once the
sedatives took effect.
Mark felt a stirring in his bed and rolled over with a groan. Then he
heard a disgusting, fleshy crunching noise as he awoke. A strong smell
of blood invaded his olfactory system and he rolled over to see the
white beast upon his bed, crouching on top of what no longer resembled his
wife, but now was a horrible mutilation of blood, flesh, and bones.
The white thing turned its head toward Mark with a huge grin with crimson
liquid dripping from its once fangs. Its white long fur on its visage
was now tainted red. Mark opened his mouth but no sound could come out.
Then, he began gagging. He ran to the gun cabinet in the living room
and loaded his 12-gauge shotgun with three steel shot three-inch magnum
shells as he vomited on himself.
He sprinted out of the house into the unforgiving cold in nothing more
than his favorite pair of blue satin boxers and his shotgun in hand.
He sprinted into the woods, not noticing the frostbite setting into his
bare feet. As he ran farther, he viewed numerous, mangled bodies of
flesh in police, paramedic and firemen uniforms. He ran deeper into the
woods and stopped at the horror of what was before him. The white
thing sat approximately fifty yards ahead of him and stared at him with
those black, hollow eyes and head lowered to the ground.
Mark screamed in terror and dropped to his knees. The white thing
never moved. Mark brought himself to his feet and began sprinting away
and the white thing followed, keeping the same distance. Mark fell over
and the white thing stopped moving. Mark began to crawl as the
freezing air took effect on his body. The white thing followed at the same
pace, teasing the pitiful man. Mark rose to his feet and turned the
safety off of the shotgun and tried to aim with his shivering, pale blue,
body. He squeezed the trigger with thunder roaring from the barrel and
jerking Mark backwards. The beast stood motionless as though nothing
had happened. Mark pumped the gun once more, loading another shell in
and fired, with still no result. Mark kneeled down on one knee in the
homicidal snow and held the gun perfectly still and fired his final shot
with still no avail.
The white thing's jaw formed into a wicked grin. It shook its body
rapidly a couple of times as multiple BBs projected from its long fur.
The beast crouched down into a lunging position, preparing to pounce
like a lion on a zebra.
Mark shouted with his hoarse, dying voice, NO! Wait! I know why you
are here!
The creature stood back up and looked at him with its head tilted.
Yes, I know why you are here and I know now why I am here. You think
that people are useless and destined to kill themselves off. You
seek to end all hatred and vengeance in the world. I want to tell you
something. I admire you. Yes, I admire you. As a matter of fact, I
love you.
The creature looked at Mark's bluing face deep into Mark's glassy eyes
spoke through his mind with out moving his jaw, I applaud you, but you
are wrong. Men have forgotten what forgiveness is. If you cannot
forgive, you cannot be saved. Humans will not realize this until it is
placed before them in pure terror and gore. I will be your teacher and
show you the way, the only way, what is wrong with you pitiful excuses of
life.
You are wrong as well. Humans do forgive others. I have forgiven
some people for the most horrible acts they have done to me. I also
forgive you for killing my son and my wife, whispered Mark's dying voice.
Your wife had to die. She was saturated with sin. If you only knew
how many times she slept with other men and came back to you! She was
arrogant, loveless, and full of hate. You never could see that though.
She played with your head and you fell for it. Your son, though, I
could not kill. He is too ripe and of pure innocence. I applaud once
again. I can read your every thought and you truly have forgiven me and
for this I have no reason to remain, but God help all of your souls if I
am ever called upon again spoke the beast as he vanished at the blink
of Mark's eye.
Daddy, cried a voice from the darkness. Tommy came running out of
the shrubs jumped into Mark's blue, weakened arms. Mark felt warm blood
upon his skin and noticed the minor gashes on Tommy s arms, back, and
chest. Tommy led Mark back to the house and dialed 911.
Tommy, I am so glad to see you again. I was worried sick, cried
Mark, sitting on the couch.
Don t worry, Daddy, Malkir took care of me, assured Tommy.
Who is Malkir, asked Mark as he heard the ambulance pulling into
this driveway.
The white thing I was telling you about the other night, Daddy.
Malkir© COPYRIGHT 2004 Nicholas Keslar. Reproduction prohibited without permission from the author. 05/27/04
