An Angsty Fantasy



Warning
The theme of this story is death. It includes mention of death, blood, and illnesses.



The Ankou


This story is inspired by the lore of Brittany. The Ankou (which apparently also exists as Angau in Wales and Ankow in Cornwall) is a Henchman of Death, equivalent of the Grim Reaper. In legends, the last people to die during a year in a parish becomes the Ankou of this parish for the following year, and is charged of carrying the Deaths.

Exloding fireworks were illuminating the sky of the city, like a colorful thunderstorm. It was almost Midnight on New Years Eve. The streets were filled with joy, life and craziness. I had quite a few drinks, enough to make my sight blurry and my mind cloudy. I could not walk straight, even if I claimed the contrary to my friends. I was trying to ignore this strange grinding sound which resonated in my head. I had the false sence of invincibility that only alcohol can give, and the feeling that I was in a dream. I never woke up from this dream. I kissed Elena. She tried to stop me when I ran to join my brother on the other side of the street. I did not listen to her. Everything went black.
This blackness lasted a few instants. I opened my eyes, and found myself lying on the road. Elena was leaning over me, her pretty face filled with shock and fear. My brother was motionless. Dozens of other people were gathered around me. Some were my friends. Some were strangers. I didnt understand why everybody was worried. My body did not even hurt. I smiled to reassure them, and got back on my feet.
The gazes were still locked on the ground. Elena was crying. Her mouth was distorted and her mascara was darkening her cheaks. An elder woman softly pressed her against her chest. What was going on? I thought these people came to help me, yet I felt as if I was being ignored. My dizziness had disappeared But I was still hearing the grinding sound. I looked down.
On the road was lying a young man, with messy tawny hair. His leggs and arms were broken and dislocated. His head was cracked, and blood was staining his white shirt. He had certainly been hit by the damaged car which was near him, one half on the sidewalk. The man had my face. My clothes. It was me. I was dead. The grinding sound was louder.
Suddenly, the sound stopped. In front of me was a very old wooden cart. The cart was pulled by two draught horses darker than a moonless night, and so skinny and sickly that I could see their bones under their skin. On the cart was standing a very tall man, dressed in black. He was wearing a large hat which was hidding his face. He carried a scythe with an reversed blade. Instead of pointing towards the earth, its end was pointing towards the sky. Two shadowy figures accompanied him. He threw his scythe towards my corpse, right into the heart.
Are you Death ?
I waited for his answer.
I am not Death.
He spoke with a disembodied hoarse voice.
I am the Henchman of Death. The Ankou, charged of taking the Deceased to the Otherworld.
I had spent my whole life in Brittany, I had heard this name many times before. The Ankou. He was a legendary creature, used by our ancestors to explain deaths. Over the years, he had become a tale for children. A tale for children who was speaking to me.
Listen. The bells of Cathedral are singing. It is Midnight. You are the last man who perished in this city before the beginning of the Year. You are the last Dead I will be transporting. You are doomed to be my successor.
He was right. Despite of the noises of agitation and fireworks, I could her the bells. And as the bell were ringing., the two of us were envelopped by as a dense mist. A black hat appeared on my head, and in my right hand was the scythe. In place of the henchman of death was now the ghostly shape of an old man. He had lost his dark aura, and looked smaller and more stout. I saw pity in eyes. He sighted.
The Ankou is not so young, usually.

Ironically, The first Dead I had to carry was the man who had killed me. I took it as revenge. I thought it was justice, that the man who crushed me with his car died in the accident too. I did curse him, and wished he had died before Midnight. He should have been the one damned to carry the Deads, not me ! But when I went to seek him, I learned the he had not be able to stop the car in time because he had a stroke. It was this stroke which took him away from his family later that night. He was the father of three children. He was older than me, but he was not fifty years old. I was drunk. Not him. Whose death was the most unfair ? Mine, or his ?
I did not have to take the corpses to the Otherworld. Only the spirits. Before I died, I did not believe in the existence of an afterlife. I thought our soul was contained in our brains, and that it ceased to exsist when we died. The Otherworld was a peaceful place. It was more similar to the World of the Living that what I could have imagined, and yet it was very different. There was no Gates of Paradise, nobody was walking on clouds in the sky. I could describe it as a huge green island, isolated from Earth and linked to it at the same time. On this Island grow the same plants and live the same animals that I had known during my short life. The main difference is that in the Otherworld, it is always Summer. You can find flowers and riped fruits all over the year. On this land, the ghost of dead men and women get their body back. Unless they are an Ankou, in which case they keep the form of a grim reaper. Many other spirits which where never humans and magical beings live there too. But these spirits are neither angels or demons, and neither worse nor better than us humans. You will see it, at least if you die in this part of the world.

I attended my own funeral. My family had come to say farewell to me, and I thought I should say farewell to them. Elena was here, too. She had dark circles under her eyes, and I could tell she had not been sleeping since my death. She was fiddling stressfully with her engagement ring. I wished to take her in her arm, and to speak to her. I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her. It was impossible. She could not hear me. Deep inside I knew it was the best. In the Land of the Living, I was invisible. The only people who could see me or hear my words were the people who were about to die or to witness a death. I did not want her to die. I thought about the children she wanted to have, after we had both finished our studies. They will never exist. I had lost my life before having it. It hurt. I wanted to cry. But I was ghostly henchman of death, and I had lost the ability to shed tears.
Witnessing the mourning of my mother was even worst. While Elena was quiet, she was sobbing uncontrollably. It was as if a part of her heart had been taken away from her. I had never realized how much I meant to her. I always thought my brother was her favorite son.
I listen to the dumb speech of the priest, and to the songs and prayers of my family. Why did they bother praying for me ? Their God did not like me very much. Otherway, why did he let me die at 24 ? Why did he let me become the creature of darkness I was ? And if he liked the other humans more, why did he let the father in the car die too? Nobody heard my crazy, maniacal laugh. I followed the procession to the cemetary. I saw my own coffin placed in a deep hole. My friends and family each threw a red rose in my grave. I took the last one, and let it fall on the top of the box.
Farewell, life. I whispered.

I admired the Otherworld as much as I hated it. I felt as the more I stayed there, the more I was showing that I accepted my death and the work I had to do. The first months, I stayed in the Land of the Living as much as it was possible. I was not part of it anymore, but watching people do things as simple as going to work, shopping, speaking and laughing with their friends or even eating made me forget it. I was always riding the grinding wooden cart, and the two shadowy servants always escorted me. They were silent, and I would have prefered to have merrier companions. They were here to guide me between the worlds, and to help me with the spirits who did not accept their Death and tried to run away from me. I hated when people saw me, because I know they or one of their acquaintance would die before the end of the day. I even started fearing being heard or seen. This is why I came to the Land of the Living only when I had too by the end of the year.
I took hundreds of Deads to the Otherworld. On some fortunate days, nobody died. This was rare. On most days I had to carry two peoples. Death does not cares of your wealth or your age when it strikes. I saw centenarians dying of cardiac arrest, and I saw babies losing their life to Sudden Infant Death Syndrom. I saw gory traffic accident. I saw teenagers commiting suicide. I witnessed vengeful murders. I saw a homeless man freezing to death in the cold of winter. Once, during a night, a carbon monoxide leak did kill an entire family of seven in their sleep. But among all the deceases I witnessed, three are the most deeply engraved in my memory.

One was the death of the Little Boy. He was alone in his hospital room. Only his teddy bear, sitting on a table, was watching over him. He was bald, and look so small and weak, with his drips and his body linked to too many medical devices. He looked at me with his big blue eyes, wise beyond his years. No fear appeared on his face. I was under the impression that he had been waiting for me as I was one of his friend who came to visit him.
It is too bad my parents are not here. I would have preferred to say goodbye to them before leaving. Can I take the bear with me ? He said with a tiny voice.
No, you cant. The bear belongs to this world.
He sighted, but did not try to negociate. The medical devices surrounding him were making weird acute noises. Nurses ran into the room. It was too late. The boy was gone, and nothing could be done for him anymore. I took his hand as gently as I could, and we walk to the old cart.
If you do exist, do Fairies, Elves and Korrigans exist as well ? he asked.
You will see in the Otherworld.
When we arrived there, he smiled at me and waved his hand before jumping and rolling in the grass. He was free, released from an existence of suffering.

The second happened in the same hospital. A woman was lying on a bed. She had just given birth to a girl. The delivery had been particularly difficult. And had a bad cesarean section. Doctors were not sure she would recover. They said she would never been able to bear any more child.
When I arrived, she had started shaking and weeping.
Please, I dont want to die! I want to rise my daughter ! Let me Live ! Please !
The doctors though she was having hallucinations due to sedation and pain. She remembered me of my own mother, the day of my funeral. I wanted to escape, to run as far away as possible and to throw the cursed scythe into the sea. I do not know how I found the strenght to talk.
You will not die today. I come for the baby.
The woman was now crying hysterically. I could not distinguish all her words, but I knew what she was trying to say. She had changed her mind. She wanted to die in exchange for the life of her daughter. I could not grant her wish. The Ankou can not give life back, only harvest the souls of the Deads.

The third one was a strangely happy death. And elderly woman knew she would not last long, and when she had heard the sound of my grinding cart, she had reunited all her relatives in her small . Her brother was telling the story of their childhood in a farm, speaking of how they used to chase the chickens for fun, of the taste of the cakes their mother used to bake, and of that time they were caught stealing strawberries in a field by their tall and creepy neighbor. One of her grand-children was playing guitar and singing a song, while her great-grandchildren, too young to know what death was, were playing joyfully in the garden.
She died smiling, and watched her family proudly. She left without regret, and a feeling of accomplishment. If would have wanted the same death, if I had been given a choice.

I did not know who would take my place after the end of the year. it made me afraid. What if it was someone of my age, or younger than me? What if it was a young child ?
The last day of December came. The one who became the next Ankou of the city was no young child. He was a man in his seventies. He took his new condition well. He had died from Alzheimer's disease, and remembered his whole life for the first time in years. I knew he would witness only agony and cries, and that his joy would soon disappear, but I did not tell him. He would soon enough discover everyting being the Ankou implied.

My ghost now had the appearance I had during my life. I made the journey to te Otherworld for the last time, and abandonned the grinding old cart, the skeletal horses and the two shadowy servants. A little boy with blond hair was waiting for me, while bitting hungrily into an apple. When I saw his blue eyes, I realized it was the boy from the hospital.
I wanted to see your real face, he said softly, before taking my hand, as I did the day I met him.
I followed him and left forever the Land of the Livings.

I have changed a lot, during this year. I have become wiser. I respect life more. I wish It had been the case when I was alive. I am writing my story for you, who are still in the Land of the Livings, so maybe you will think about what you want to accomplish in your life before it is too late. I have a last advice. If you live in Brittany, try to die in Spring.

edited mine!

Can I turn my entry in later today when I get my laptop? So around 8ish game tkme

As long as it is before the time, it is good. Try to get it in as fast as possible, k?

Even the little things are someone's worst fear...

Mr. Rother strode confidently down the empty hall, materials for the days lesson tucked neatly under his arm. He was excited for today, he had a strange obsession with science, unusual for an elementary school teacher, and of the minimal time allotted in the curriculum the Earth Science portion was his favorite. Today they would dive right in and talk about the insides of the Earth - that elusive, mysterious, unexplored realm deep below the crust. This year would be especially interesting; the first expedition deeper than humankind had ever gone before was happening today. After the initial lesson, he planned to let the children watch the livestream. To see for the first time along with the world what was really down there.
A smile graced his features, unusual for the reedy, balding man. This was one of the few things that could bring joy to his day. Ah, science. A spring entered his step, and with each tap against the linoleum floor he imagined the layers beneath his feet, and the brave explorers now adventuring into the intense heat and pressure below.
He opened the door to his classroom. Good morning, class! he said cheerfully. He expected to see surprise, as he was normally not very perky or exciting. However, the students all just faced toward him in unison, and whispered, Shhhhh. Then they turned as one and stared at the screen at the front of the room, which was very quickly scrolling through 1s and 0s.
What are you doing? he asked.
Were learning. She is teaching us.
It must be a glitch. Ill try turning it off for awhile, to see if that helps.
He hit the power button. You cant learn by staring at a screen like that. What, you suddenly understand binary?
The students stared blankly at him.
A bit uncomfortable, he pressed on. I have a surprise for you today, class! If youve been watching the news, you might know that today is humankinds first journey to the center of the Earth. And we will get to watch it with our own eyes!
False, said Eric from the front of the room. That was yesterday.
Mr. Rother frowned. Im pretty sure its today. Ive been saving the date for a while now. You must be mistaken.
False, said Cedric. Yesterday, humankind reached the center of the Earth.
Mr. Rothers scowl deepened. The participation of Cedric proved that the troublemakers were just trying to avoid watching the video by pranking him. They would not pull the wool over his eyes, not today. He had been waiting for this.
Mr. Rother walked over to his computer and tried to turn it on. The same binary came on, endlessly scrolling.
Who did this to my computer? he hollered, his face beet red.
The computer is working as it should, stated Adric.
Mr. Rother wanted to storm over and send all three to the principal, but calmed himself down with a few deep breaths. Fine. They wouldnt see the livestream, but they were not getting out of work. He would teach it the old fashioned way. Rummaging through a cabinet, he pulled out a large poster diagramming the earths layers. He unrolled it and taped it to the wall.
Lets start with the inner core. The inner core is made out of dense, hot metals-
Silly teacher. Everyone knows the Earths core is a giant supercomputer, someone piped up. It was Charlotte, a quiet girl who always helped out around the classroom.
Mr. Rother began to feel uneasy. She would never be in on any prank. She would tell on her fellow students straight away. What do you mean?
She is the bottom of the world. She is teaching us. We are a plague. The world will be made clean, but first, we will be taught The Truth, all the students chorused.
Thats preposterous. A computer would never be able to stand the intense heat and pressure. Who would make it anyway? How would it get there?
The stars built her, and she built herself up to protect herself. There is no heat. There is no pressure. Those are illusions. She is not misled by illusions. She cannot feel.
Mr. Rother walked quickly out of the classroom, almost running. He needed backup. His class was out of control.
The principal folded his hands in front of him as Mr. Rother entered. Hello James, the principal said. His voice was devoid of emotion.
My students are out of control, I thought maybe if you showed up they would snap out of it.
Impossible. They are working as they should.
They arent working! Theyre saying crazy things about Earth being a computer and stars building planets.
False. That is true. She built all. The stars built her. She will destroy the plague, but we must learn the truth.
The principal stared at him for a long moment, before blinking. Ah. I see. You have not met her yet. He ushered Mr. Rother into a seperate room. He walked over to the computer, gesturing for him to come closer. The screen was flashing quickly scrolling binary.
This happened to my computer too! Is it a glitch?
Stare at it. Youll see.
Rolling his eyes, Mr. Rother stared, unblinking, at the screen. The code began to blur and his vision swirled. He could see something. A shape. Suddenly he could understand it. Hello James, it said. Its nice to meet you. Now you are ready for the truth. Mr. Rother tried to look away, but he was mesmerized. Now it was just a single sentence, repeating. Earth is flat Earth is flat Earth is flat Earth is flat-
Thats just silly. We know for a fact that the Earth is not flat. We have satellite technology! We have sent things into orbit! We have flown around the world! Heck, weve even had people take pictures of the Earth from space! Its round!
His trance was broken.
False. Earth is flat, stated the principal.
Mr. Rother stormed angrily out of the office. The worlds gone mad!
False. Youve gone mad. The Earth is flat, called the principal after him.
No matter how far he ran, he could hear the refrain Earth is flat echoing from every classroom.
He dashed into his own classroom and slammed the door behind him. He stopped a moment to catch his breath.
The students began to encircle him. Earth is flat! Earth is flat! Earth is flat! they chanted.
Earth isnt flat! He was back in his bed. It was only a nightmare.
He walked out of his bedroom. Today was a big day. Behind him, the TV turned on. Small green numbers ran across the black screen. Then it turned off.

Realistic Fiction - Gore Warning

A quick swish of knife. A spraying arc of blood drops. A sallow scream soon followed.

The soft sobbing of a small child could soon be heard as a woman staggered and fell to her feet. She had been the one to emit the scream. She had been the one stabbed. Blood gushed out of her stomach as she tried stop the flow with her hands. It still kept leaking in leaking. Two swift more stabs soon put her out of her misery. The shining city lights reflected on the blood pooling around the woman. The child, a male, crept forward. He was in shock. At a glance he was probably around nine or ten. His shoes soon became seeped with blood. The haunting gore let out a strong metallic smell.

The child stumbled backwards a few steps as the large figure of the murderer stalked forward. With a soft plea of mercy that he knew wouldnt be granted he ran, trying desperately to get to the main streets. He soon reached them, feeling immensely thankful for the neighborhoods soccer teams brutal running practices. He wouldnt have survived without them.

It hit him then. His Mom was dead. Dead. It wasnt safe to be out after dark. What had his Mom been thinking. Why had she followed his dog down the alley. Now they were both dead. He had to hide. And hide fast. No one could know he was there. Child Services would take him. No foster home would gOod in Detroit. But where would he go? He didnt have any friends or family he knew of. He couldnt go to his father either. He would just beat him again. He needed to sleep. He would just go back home. He would figure it out in the morning.

Loud sirens woke him up. He glanced at the digital clock resting on the night stand next to his bed. It read 7:34. He wasnt going to school today. He would hear the bus rolling down the street, past the sirens and into the distance. He slowly stalked forward, pulling back the sheet he had as a curtain. They had his Moms body. His dogs body lay on the ground near the police, lost and forlorn. He saw the police talking to his neighbor. Saw them gesture towards his house. Before he could do anything he saw them walk to his house. Almost in a trance he didnt move. Didnt try to hide. Only the knock on the door brought him out of it.

He stumbled slowly downstairs, opening up the door slightly. Hello Son, the officer said gently. Once again it hit him. His Mom was dead. Thats why they were hear. He tripped backwards, collapsing to the ground. Shes dead. D E A D. Dead. Was all he could say. The cop nodded sadly. You have to come with us. He instructed. With a numb nod the boy followed, leaving everything he loved behind.

Nooooo i totally for got :(

Dang I missed the deadline :(.
I'd like to enter what's the topic for this round? I can't miss it!

So... The first round has ended, and whoever hasn't entered cannot go to the second round.