The Den of Ghouls
Horror fiction.
Seven ghouls sat by candle light, with a well prepared feast of abundance. They said little to each other as they gorged upon the heads and limbs of the corpses they had harvested. Just outside there crypt, hungry wolves waited for the bones and scraps that the ghouls would through to them.
BURP!!!
"William, you're such a pig!" Chelsea shouted. William snickered, as if pleased with himself. "Mind your table manners!" Grandma Ghoul added as she leaned over and smacked him on the back head. He then glared at Chelsea as if it were her fault. But she offered no sign of reparations. From the other end of the table, Charles tapped his fork against his glass. Everyone at the table paid notice, even William.
Charles' decomposing complexion was greener than ever by the candle light. But his expression was of pure joy. "I think it's time to give a little thanks," he announced. He raised his glass, high over his head, as did everyone else, then spoke," To the Plague! For without it we would not have this wonderful harvest." "To the Plague!" The others rejoiced. Charles chuckled as he looked around the dinner table, delighted with his family. In life Charles was an aristocrat whose life of fortune came to a tragic end in what some claimed an hunting accident.
He then asked Tim and Tom, the twins who also died tragic deaths, involving gun fire. "So... what treasures have you found this harvest?" Tim reached into his shirt pocket and retrieved something shinny He held it up for everyone to see. Tim hurried to finish chewing his food before talking. "It's a silver pocket watch," he said after a long hard swallow," I found it on the chest of an old man. And Tom hear found something else... Show them." Tom then reached into his pocket and pulled out a bronze compass. Tom never spoke... Not since the day he realized he was a ghoul. Therefore Tim did the talking for him.
"Very nice," Charles commented, "How about you, Chelsea?" She looked down at her slender fingers and proudly displayed the wedding ban she had found on a young woman such as herself. Chelsea collected wedding bans. Before she died and became a ghoul, she was to marry into royalty. She was pretty enough to be royalty. Even after death, she still maintained her milk white complexion and long beautiful locks of red hair. But when she got news that her fiancé had decided to marry another, she sowed stones into her wedding dress and drowned herself in a lake.
"I found a knife!" William exclaimed, not waiting to be called upon. Without warning he rammed the knife down into the table. "Real motley crew, we are," Chelsea muttered, wile rolling her eyes. William was an ox of a young man. In life he was a barbarian from the Norsemen tribe. But unfortunately he did not get the glorious death in battle, that every Norse hoped for. No... Not William. He was mauled by a grizzly wile pooping in the woods.
He even had the gashes across his face, from where the bear had hit him. Grandma Ghoul tried to stitch it but William just wouldn't keep still. Charles once commented that he could not think of a worse way to die. "Dying with your pants down," as he put it. But everyone figured William to dumb to be embarrassed.
Grandma Ghoul had nothing to share. She simply did not care for such things, so the spot light was now on little Samantha, the smallest of the ghouls. She quickly stood up, proudly displaying the pink silk dress she was wearing. Everyone complimented her and said how pretty she looked, even Grandma. Samantha was different from the rest. For she really wasn't dead. She had been an orphan almost her whole life and no one in the village wanted to take her in. They said she was too sickly and would not survive the winter.
So when a bad case of pneumonia had let her slip into a coma, everyone assumed she was a goner, and buried her alive. She would have been a goner, had it not been for the wolves. Since she had actually been buried, they figured that was close enough to be one of them. So they adopted her into they're Klan. They were the only family she ever knew.
Since I have giving some insight into everyone else, I should mention a little about Grandma Ghoul. She was as old dead, as she was when alive. Having out lived her own children she spent many lonely years in a cabin deep in the woods. She died in the snow one horrible winter's day, wile gathering kindling for the fire. She had wished so very much to have a family again. Just someone for her to look after, that when the spring came and all the snow had melted, she set off to find others like her. A family of the undead, to call her own.
As to how they became ghouls, they weren't sure. Maybe God did not want them. Or perhaps, there souls simply could not rest. Either way, they were undead and the only way they could sustain themselves was with a steady diet of human flesh.
As the feast upon human flesh drew to an end and everyone was too tired and fat to move from there places. Finally William gathered everyone's plates of scraps and leftovers. "Throwing away some good meat," Grandma remarked, "Why, that leg still has a good bit left of it and you haven't even touched your head Chelsea."
"I'm on a diet," Chelsea grumbled.
"Oh, come on Grandma. The wolves nearly wore off there paws digging up these corpses. They deserve a little extra."
"Wolves... Bah!" She exclaimed.
"I think that's a fine idea," Charles said. William carried the now heaping full platter of scraps and went outside to the hungry wolves. "Tell us how William died pooping in the woods again, Charles," Little Samantha asked giggling. "Now, Samantha... It's not nice to laugh at William," Grandma Ghoul interrupted. "Besides," Chelsea added," The whole point of the story is that William is too stupid to know a bear's den from a hole in the ground."
"Shhhh!" Charles cried out, "Do you hear something?" Everyone sat perfectly still and dared not make a sound. Faintly, they heard a sound coming from outside. It was a low fierce growl coming from the alpha wolf, warning of danger. Charles stood up from the table and walked over to the door. But before he could get there Williams leaped through it and slammed the door behind him. "Williams, what wrong?" Chelsea demanded. Williams had a dreadful expression upon his face.
"The wolves... They smell something coming!" He muttered. "What's coming?" Chelsea asked. "What do you think?" He scorned at her, "The Living..."
"Quickly, blow out the candles and barricade the door," Charles commanded.
"What good would that do?" Williams interrupted," There on to us!"
"With torches and pitch forks, they will come," Grandma Ghoul spoke," Greedy we were... oh, we could not stop at one or two graves, we had to dig up the whole lot. Now they know we're here... So careless and greedy we were."
"What will they do if they find us?" Samantha inquired."
"At best, they'll cut our heads off and set us on fire," Williams replied.
"At worst?"
"At worst, they will bury us again... only this time they will drive stakes through our hearts, pinning us to the ground till judgment day comes."
"I don't want to be buried again," Samantha cried, running to Grandma's arms.
Soon the sound of angry men and barking hounds could clearly be heard. The wolves became agitated, and readied themselves to defend they're masters. They're black hackles stood up as they snarled at the approaching mob. But the living were not deterred, and marched onwards to the well guarded crypt. The Alpha gave one final snarl, as a command to the others. Then leaped into the mob of torches and pitch forks.
The others fallowed in suit. The ghouls listened closely at the battle cries from both the living and the wolves. They quickly huddled in the shadows, wile William paced nervously back and forth. Finally a dreadful yelp was heard from the first of the fallen wolves. Williams stopped dead in his tracks. "Lucca?" He cried in a soft whisper. Rage had concurred his look of worry. He grabbed his battle ax from the wall and raced towards the door. "No!" Grandma Ghoul cried. "I refuse to let them die alone!" He yelled kicking down the door. With raw brute strength, he swung his ax at the mob. As if plowing through a corn field.
"You stupid ox!" Chelsea screamed.
"No! He's right," Charles said, "Chelsea, grab Samantha! I want you and Grandma to make a break for it. We will stand with the wolves!" Quickly, Charles and the twins grabbed what they could. Tim snatched up a pry bar they used to open caskets. Tom reached for a pick ax. And Charles retrieved a sword from a vault, that had been, once buried with a general.
Once regrouped the ghouls prepared themselves. "Ready?" Charles asked! The twins nodded and fallowed Charles out the door wile Chelsea, holding Samantha on her hip, snatched Grandma Ghoul by the wrist and pulled her along. They could tell by the blood stained snow that William and the wolves had managed to push the mob back. But the fight was far from over.
As Chelsea headed for the woods, Grandma Ghoul looked into the violent crowd for Williams. She gasped at a large lump lying still, in the snow. "William!" She cried jerking her arm free from Chelsea's grip. "C'mon Grandma we have to go!"
"I'm not leaving him!" She fired back at her. She turned away and march bowlegged to where William laid.
Chelsea felt helpless to stop her. Although she very old and not truly alive, she was by no means a weak woman.
"Grandma!" Samantha screamed as she was carried away in Chelsea's arms. She watched helplessly as Grandma Ghoul fell to her knees before William's body. "Oh, my dear boy!" She wailed, throwing her body on top of his. "You don't have to be ashamed anymore... You died the Norsemen way." Then from the crowd, a man tossed his torch upon the two of them. Setting them both ablaze. As Chelsea continued to run, Three of the surviving wolf pack fallowed. They snarled at the few outside straggling men, daring themselves to tackle Chelsea.
The fires could still be seen from the dense cover of the woods. And when they heard the last cry of dying agony, they knew they were the last of they're Klan. Leaning against a tall mighty oak, Chelsea tried to keep Samantha warm. But without even a pulse, it was of little use. The wolves laid in the snow as flakes fell gently all around.
"Where are we gonna live?" Samantha asked.
"I don't know, we'll find somewhere..."
"Do you think ghouls get to go to heaven?"
"I really don't think so Sam, that's why we're still here."
"Do you think there are more out there like us?"
"I hope so..."
"I miss my family."
"Oh, but Samantha, you still have family... A new family. Just me, you, and the wolves..."
THE END...
BURP!!!
"William, you're such a pig!" Chelsea shouted. William snickered, as if pleased with himself. "Mind your table manners!" Grandma Ghoul added as she leaned over and smacked him on the back head. He then glared at Chelsea as if it were her fault. But she offered no sign of reparations. From the other end of the table, Charles tapped his fork against his glass. Everyone at the table paid notice, even William.
Charles' decomposing complexion was greener than ever by the candle light. But his expression was of pure joy. "I think it's time to give a little thanks," he announced. He raised his glass, high over his head, as did everyone else, then spoke," To the Plague! For without it we would not have this wonderful harvest." "To the Plague!" The others rejoiced. Charles chuckled as he looked around the dinner table, delighted with his family. In life Charles was an aristocrat whose life of fortune came to a tragic end in what some claimed an hunting accident.
He then asked Tim and Tom, the twins who also died tragic deaths, involving gun fire. "So... what treasures have you found this harvest?" Tim reached into his shirt pocket and retrieved something shinny He held it up for everyone to see. Tim hurried to finish chewing his food before talking. "It's a silver pocket watch," he said after a long hard swallow," I found it on the chest of an old man. And Tom hear found something else... Show them." Tom then reached into his pocket and pulled out a bronze compass. Tom never spoke... Not since the day he realized he was a ghoul. Therefore Tim did the talking for him.
"Very nice," Charles commented, "How about you, Chelsea?" She looked down at her slender fingers and proudly displayed the wedding ban she had found on a young woman such as herself. Chelsea collected wedding bans. Before she died and became a ghoul, she was to marry into royalty. She was pretty enough to be royalty. Even after death, she still maintained her milk white complexion and long beautiful locks of red hair. But when she got news that her fiancé had decided to marry another, she sowed stones into her wedding dress and drowned herself in a lake.
"I found a knife!" William exclaimed, not waiting to be called upon. Without warning he rammed the knife down into the table. "Real motley crew, we are," Chelsea muttered, wile rolling her eyes. William was an ox of a young man. In life he was a barbarian from the Norsemen tribe. But unfortunately he did not get the glorious death in battle, that every Norse hoped for. No... Not William. He was mauled by a grizzly wile pooping in the woods.
He even had the gashes across his face, from where the bear had hit him. Grandma Ghoul tried to stitch it but William just wouldn't keep still. Charles once commented that he could not think of a worse way to die. "Dying with your pants down," as he put it. But everyone figured William to dumb to be embarrassed.
Grandma Ghoul had nothing to share. She simply did not care for such things, so the spot light was now on little Samantha, the smallest of the ghouls. She quickly stood up, proudly displaying the pink silk dress she was wearing. Everyone complimented her and said how pretty she looked, even Grandma. Samantha was different from the rest. For she really wasn't dead. She had been an orphan almost her whole life and no one in the village wanted to take her in. They said she was too sickly and would not survive the winter.
So when a bad case of pneumonia had let her slip into a coma, everyone assumed she was a goner, and buried her alive. She would have been a goner, had it not been for the wolves. Since she had actually been buried, they figured that was close enough to be one of them. So they adopted her into they're Klan. They were the only family she ever knew.
Since I have giving some insight into everyone else, I should mention a little about Grandma Ghoul. She was as old dead, as she was when alive. Having out lived her own children she spent many lonely years in a cabin deep in the woods. She died in the snow one horrible winter's day, wile gathering kindling for the fire. She had wished so very much to have a family again. Just someone for her to look after, that when the spring came and all the snow had melted, she set off to find others like her. A family of the undead, to call her own.
As to how they became ghouls, they weren't sure. Maybe God did not want them. Or perhaps, there souls simply could not rest. Either way, they were undead and the only way they could sustain themselves was with a steady diet of human flesh.
As the feast upon human flesh drew to an end and everyone was too tired and fat to move from there places. Finally William gathered everyone's plates of scraps and leftovers. "Throwing away some good meat," Grandma remarked, "Why, that leg still has a good bit left of it and you haven't even touched your head Chelsea."
"I'm on a diet," Chelsea grumbled.
"Oh, come on Grandma. The wolves nearly wore off there paws digging up these corpses. They deserve a little extra."
"Wolves... Bah!" She exclaimed.
"I think that's a fine idea," Charles said. William carried the now heaping full platter of scraps and went outside to the hungry wolves. "Tell us how William died pooping in the woods again, Charles," Little Samantha asked giggling. "Now, Samantha... It's not nice to laugh at William," Grandma Ghoul interrupted. "Besides," Chelsea added," The whole point of the story is that William is too stupid to know a bear's den from a hole in the ground."
"Shhhh!" Charles cried out, "Do you hear something?" Everyone sat perfectly still and dared not make a sound. Faintly, they heard a sound coming from outside. It was a low fierce growl coming from the alpha wolf, warning of danger. Charles stood up from the table and walked over to the door. But before he could get there Williams leaped through it and slammed the door behind him. "Williams, what wrong?" Chelsea demanded. Williams had a dreadful expression upon his face.
"The wolves... They smell something coming!" He muttered. "What's coming?" Chelsea asked. "What do you think?" He scorned at her, "The Living..."
"Quickly, blow out the candles and barricade the door," Charles commanded.
"What good would that do?" Williams interrupted," There on to us!"
"With torches and pitch forks, they will come," Grandma Ghoul spoke," Greedy we were... oh, we could not stop at one or two graves, we had to dig up the whole lot. Now they know we're here... So careless and greedy we were."
"What will they do if they find us?" Samantha inquired."
"At best, they'll cut our heads off and set us on fire," Williams replied.
"At worst?"
"At worst, they will bury us again... only this time they will drive stakes through our hearts, pinning us to the ground till judgment day comes."
"I don't want to be buried again," Samantha cried, running to Grandma's arms.
Soon the sound of angry men and barking hounds could clearly be heard. The wolves became agitated, and readied themselves to defend they're masters. They're black hackles stood up as they snarled at the approaching mob. But the living were not deterred, and marched onwards to the well guarded crypt. The Alpha gave one final snarl, as a command to the others. Then leaped into the mob of torches and pitch forks.
The others fallowed in suit. The ghouls listened closely at the battle cries from both the living and the wolves. They quickly huddled in the shadows, wile William paced nervously back and forth. Finally a dreadful yelp was heard from the first of the fallen wolves. Williams stopped dead in his tracks. "Lucca?" He cried in a soft whisper. Rage had concurred his look of worry. He grabbed his battle ax from the wall and raced towards the door. "No!" Grandma Ghoul cried. "I refuse to let them die alone!" He yelled kicking down the door. With raw brute strength, he swung his ax at the mob. As if plowing through a corn field.
"You stupid ox!" Chelsea screamed.
"No! He's right," Charles said, "Chelsea, grab Samantha! I want you and Grandma to make a break for it. We will stand with the wolves!" Quickly, Charles and the twins grabbed what they could. Tim snatched up a pry bar they used to open caskets. Tom reached for a pick ax. And Charles retrieved a sword from a vault, that had been, once buried with a general.
Once regrouped the ghouls prepared themselves. "Ready?" Charles asked! The twins nodded and fallowed Charles out the door wile Chelsea, holding Samantha on her hip, snatched Grandma Ghoul by the wrist and pulled her along. They could tell by the blood stained snow that William and the wolves had managed to push the mob back. But the fight was far from over.
As Chelsea headed for the woods, Grandma Ghoul looked into the violent crowd for Williams. She gasped at a large lump lying still, in the snow. "William!" She cried jerking her arm free from Chelsea's grip. "C'mon Grandma we have to go!"
"I'm not leaving him!" She fired back at her. She turned away and march bowlegged to where William laid.
Chelsea felt helpless to stop her. Although she very old and not truly alive, she was by no means a weak woman.
"Grandma!" Samantha screamed as she was carried away in Chelsea's arms. She watched helplessly as Grandma Ghoul fell to her knees before William's body. "Oh, my dear boy!" She wailed, throwing her body on top of his. "You don't have to be ashamed anymore... You died the Norsemen way." Then from the crowd, a man tossed his torch upon the two of them. Setting them both ablaze. As Chelsea continued to run, Three of the surviving wolf pack fallowed. They snarled at the few outside straggling men, daring themselves to tackle Chelsea.
The fires could still be seen from the dense cover of the woods. And when they heard the last cry of dying agony, they knew they were the last of they're Klan. Leaning against a tall mighty oak, Chelsea tried to keep Samantha warm. But without even a pulse, it was of little use. The wolves laid in the snow as flakes fell gently all around.
"Where are we gonna live?" Samantha asked.
"I don't know, we'll find somewhere..."
"Do you think ghouls get to go to heaven?"
"I really don't think so Sam, that's why we're still here."
"Do you think there are more out there like us?"
"I hope so..."
"I miss my family."
"Oh, but Samantha, you still have family... A new family. Just me, you, and the wolves..."
THE END...
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