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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with another scary tale from Fetid SirDidy.  It is entitled

Creepy Dolly

Background music by Smartsound

Small fingers tugged at thread.
The first stitch always fought the most. This she knew.
She tugged a little harder and the knot cleared so that she was able to complete the stitch. Her hands trembled and her knuckles felt large and dull.

She spent most of her days sewing. All her days really, she thought, pausing for a moment although that wasn’t quite right. It’s as if she’d been sewing for one day. One long day.
She wasn’t even sure when she had begun to sew or where she had learned. Perhaps her mother had taught her. Perhaps she had learned on her own.

Her mother.
She tilted her head for a moment while completing another stitch. She could no longer remember her mother. Come to think of it, she could no longer remember herself.

Small fingers tugged at thread.
Most of her days were spent sewing because that is what she did. This she knew.
She completed another set of stitches.

Just then a black door opened and out of that door something emerged. First the points of horns appeared. Swirling spears of bone that curled and reached high slowly revealed themselves. Next to materialize out of the dark void was a hoofed foot which stepped forward and clapped down on the floor. Another few seconds and He emerged completely. He who was ancient came forth carrying a squalling infant no more than a few hours old. He placed the newborn on a pile of coal next to the girl.

Tying off the final knot she held out her dolly so that He could take it.
She threaded a new needle and grabbed the child he had brought.

Small fingers tugged at thread.
The first stitch always fought the most. This she knew.

Echoes From the Caverns

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with another scary tale from Fetid SirDidy.  It is entitled

Supper

Background music by Smartsound

The butcher’s massive knife descended with a grace that would rival even the best swordsman. The blade gleamed while it made its descent, reflecting pearls of sunlight that sparkled off the iron cookware that lay scattered about his worktable. It cut through scale and bone with ease and made a thwack sound as it came to rest on the wood before him where a monstrous fish lay. With a flick of his wrist, the butcher flung aside a large plated head which landed on the ground a few feet away from him. Two mangy dogs who had been soundlessly watching pounced on the head instantly and began tearing at it with tooth and nail.

Placing the large knife down, the butcher reached into the belt at his side, unsheathed another one that had a long slender blade, and proceeded to deftly fillet the ancient looking behemoth. When finished, he gently placed the thick strips of meat into a leather sack and held it, along with his other hand, out. A man with a pointed and lordish looking face grabbed the sack and tossed a few coins on the table. The butcher only nodded and wiped the blade off on his blood-stained apron.

Throughout the rest of the day the butcher received all manner of creatures which he cut, quartered and divided up skillfully. The coins piled up ever so slowly and the blood on the table increasingly pooled along with them.

At last the sun began to dip toward the horizon and the butcher made his way home. Before entering, he removed his blood-soaked apron and dipped it into a barrel of water beside the door. The clear water in the barrel darkened, creating a pool of radiant hues of pink that matched the sky as the sun set. The butcher stood for a moment and watched as the sky brightened for a moment in a dazzling flash of brilliance and then went dark. With a few strong twists he wrung out the apron and went inside, closing the door behind him.

A large steaming cauldron hung above the fireplace hearth, and the butcher’s stomach rumbled as he stirred the pot with a long-handled spoon. The fire crackled and cast shadows that danced on wood and stone. Aside from a polished dark table that sat in the opposite corner and a cage on the floor next to it, the room was mostly bare.

Filling a bowl, he shuffled to the table and sat down. As he ate, he glanced at the cage on the floor beside the table. In it, a gagged man with eyes wide, murmured softly. His left arm had been removed at the elbow and had stitches caked with dried blood. His right hand, with wounds far more fresh, was missing all of its fingers.

Echoes From the Caverns

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with another wonderful tale from Womby.  It is entitled

Souvenir

Background music by Smartsound

The badly mutilated body revealed a tale both silent and eloquent. The shattered sword in its hand told of a fierce battle, while the head resting some distance away spoke of a particularly brutal end to what must have been a terrifying struggle for survival. A battle that was lost, unwitnessed, in this impossibly convoluted series of underground passages.

Something caught Womby’s eye and he bent down and retrieved a note lying next to the body.

“To the person reading this note: I guess if you are seeing this then I must have been killed. Shed no tears for a reckless adventurer. It was bound to happen one day. However, should you ever find yourself in Ardoris, I beseech you to inform the guards of a criminal who goes by the name Fluffington. Glib of tongue he is, for he managed to extract my life savings in return for a worthless map that has resulted in my death. May he suffer eternal torment!”

Womby Fluffington pocketed the note before returning to the exit. Another souvenir for his collection.

Echoes From the Caverns

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with another wonderful tale from Womby.  It is entitled

Journey to Kingsport

Background music by Smartsound

According to his hastily scribbled map the tavern was located in Kingsport.
It had taken hours of torture to extract that information from Lord Xychra. Not much of a result after investing all that valuable time.
Still, Lord Xychra had mentioned an associate who ran a tavern in Kingsport. Perhaps he could be fooled into leading him to the stash.

After locating the tavern nestled by the Kingsport docks, Dhank stepped inside to discover a small, dimly lit bar that had obviously seen better days.
The only occupant was the bartender, who paused what he was doing to glance up. A slightly raised eyebrow demanded an explanation for this intrusion.

“Lord Xychra sent me” said Dhank. “He has directed me to collect some items from his stash, and asked me to show you this as proof”.
With that he dropped Lord Xychra’s ring on the bar. The same ring that less than 24 hours earlier he had removed from his Lordship’s lifeless body.
Slowly the bartender picked up the ring and examined it carefully. “Very well. Wait here while I fetch the key and write down some directions.”

With that the barman left the room, and Dhank replaced the ring on his finger.
The barman eventually returned with a rough parchment and a large iron key.
“Follow these directions and they’ll take you where you need to go.”

Following the directions was straightforward, as the location was only a short walk away, beneath the docks.
The key opened a door into the town sewer and Dhank slowly made his way forward, cursing his oversight in not bringing a torch.
He could no longer see the map and inched forward, first following the wall on his left, then the wall on his right before becoming hopelessly disoriented.

Eventually the passage he was in led to a small platform overlooking a large channel filled with a dark and menacing liquid.
It might have been water, but Dhank wasn’t about to bet his life on it.
Suddenly he found himself rooted to the spot as he was struck by a spell cast from somewhere behind him.
Dhank heard footsteps circle around him, then a torch flickered to life revealing the bartender who had sent him here.

“Lord Xychra would never have parted with that ring. It’s a shame that you killed him. He used to send me the ingredients for my special meals.”
The bartender came closer as he spoke, and Dhank could see that he wore a butcher’s apron and carried a large set of knives hanging from a leather belt around his waist.
On the opposite side of the platform, visible for the first time in the light of the torch, Dhank could see a butcher’s station.

“I guess you’re the last.”

Echoes From the Caverns

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Hello everyone, this is Asclepius, with another great story by Fetid SirDidy. It’s entitled
“The home on Spectral Peaks”
Background music by Smartsound

“It was a dark and stormy night.”

In the candlelight Liam looked at the page while his left eye twitched madly – something had gotten in his damned eye. He rubbed at it, knuckling it deeply. He tried to focus on the words written on the page, but they were obfuscated by a veil of blurriness.

Crumpling the page, he tossed it aside, laid out a fresh one, and began again.
Or at least he tried.

The wind howled outside and the shutters on his window shook in brief intermittent spasms.
Clack, clack. Clack, clack.

Liam caught himself chewing on his thumb nail;
His mind had wandered again.

He licked the feathered pen in his hand and dipped it into the ink pot that sat on his desk. Holding the pen above the fresh parchment, he pondered for a moment and then brought it down. But he did not write.

Ink began to spread out in a circle where he held pen to paper.
The pen did not move.
Liam did not move.

A noise outside had caused Liam to utterly freeze. The sound came from something foreign, something strange, something terrifying.

Something Liam could not fathom was outside. He was certain it was there. And that certainty scared him into the paralytic stupor he found himself in.

Clack, clack. Clack, clack.
The noise came again, and Liam began to whimper.
Clack, clack. Clack, clack.

Liam remained still but his eyes darted toward the door.
He thought he heard scratches.

Clack, clack. Clack, clack.
The shutters shook with more intensity. The latch finally gave way and the shutters burst inward, and along with them a bout of frigid air.

Then, suddenly, the wind died down and the shutters on the windows settled, then lay still.

Liam let go of the pen. It lay, still spreading its ink on the paper. He took a deep breath. His heartbeat slowed. And then he let out a laugh; a full belly laugh. God, he hadn’t laughed like that in ages.

All was quiet while moments passed.
His mind had wandered again like it always had.

Walking to the window, Liam looked outside.
All he saw was dark. But the dark did not frighten him.

He moved to his bedside, pulled down his trousers and got into bed.
Leaning over, he snuffed out the candle on his bedside table, and closed his eyes.

While in a deep sleep, large brown spidery arms pieced the window shutters and a multitude of beady eyes stared at Liam as he slept.

In his dreams, while horrors consumed his waking body, Liam heard the shutters.
Clack, clack. Clack clack.

Echoes From the Caverns