The cycle of feasts

Submitted into Contest #100 in response to: Write a story where a meal or dinner goes horribly wrong.... view prompt

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Fiction Horror Mystery

The darkness enshrouded the streets as Thomas hurried his way home. He swung his office bag with every step he walked. His heavy footfalls demanded authority, as if he intended a fight with the darkness. The street lights flickered, they feared of him. The sun had settled and the night had taken over.

The darkness did not bother him, instead he felt immune around it. It was one of the perk of being a raven. The only companions he had for his walk were small glimmers of moonlight and his thoughts.

“It has been a week since I haven’t seen one of them.” He muttered to himself.

The perturbation had eroded his ever intact smile. It had affected his charisma and so, his ability to influence people. He thought of it as some kind of a curse. Every morning in front of the mirror, he would check for the birthmark, a black spot in his left eye and would feel relieved every time to see it in place. It was the mark that made him who he was, a raven.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts, so busy worrying that it took a moment for him to realise that he has reached home. With a lame enthusiasm, he opened the door.

“Hello Mr Goodwin. Welcome home.” A voice boomed as he entered the room. Thomas startled and almost dropped his bag. He managed himself and slowly reached for the switch. A shadowy figure of six feet hight stood near the couch. Though Thomas was unable make out its physical details, he was sure it was a man with heavy build muscles.

“Oh gods, you almost gave me a heart attack.” Thomas complained as he put down his bag and walked towards the refrigerator, completely ignoring the spirit. Listlessly, he brought out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

“Would you like to have some?” He asked to the shadow while filling up the glasses.

The shadow stayed silent.

“Oh forgive me,” Thomas apologized with a playful smile. “I almost forgot that the dead cannot drink.”

“I need your help.” The shadow stated with a cold voice.

“No. No, I don’t start this way.” Thomas raised the glass of whiskey. “Start with the introduction.”

“I do not have time for all this.” Shadow said as it moved towards Thomas. It looked straight into his eyes, searching for his soul.

“Ah well, you have a lot of time, my friend.” Thomas said as he guzzled another glass of whiskey. ”You know, since you are dead.”

Thomas had dealt with many spirits. As a raven, it was his duty to fulfil the wishes of the wandering souls, those who couldn’t attain the outcast, the eternal darkness. Thomas often wondered of why anyone would choose to be in the darkness forever rather than rambling around, untill he heard the stories of the dead. Many came to him in pain and misery. Their voices dripped off the sense of suffering. The souls mainly had tangled their minds around their loved ones. They clarified if they were safe and happy. Others who were murdered, asked him for their revenge. But as a raven, he was committed not to harm anyone and sincerely refused them. Not that any God has made him promise that, but he had set these rules by himself.

And these were the common ones!

But the one standing in his front was different. It radiated power and desperation. Thomas could feel it. He thought about it’s past life. May be he was a…

“No, it cannot be.” He hold back his thought.

The shadow moved towards the couch and took a sit.

“I was John Nevill, I fought alongside the British in second world war.”

“And?” Thomas asked.

“And what?”

“Elaborate a little about your past life. About your death and of course, what is holding you back from the outcast?” Thomas raised his left eyebrow. “What do you seek from me?”

“I was murdered, stabbed at my back.” Spirit raised his hand and touched where his sternum would have been. Though Thomas couldn’t look at his eyes, he was sure they showed the intensity of the pain John had been.

“My life was wonderful. A loving wife and caring daughter were all I had.” John continued. “I fought wars and brought glory to the motherland. All was good until we were invited. Invited to the murderous dining.” John took a deep breath as if suppressing his anger.

“Murderous dining, eh? Sounds interesting.” Thomas joked. John stared at him, wondering- do you ever take anything seriously? But decided no to say it.

“We were posted in Chichester of southern England. It was October of 1944. The German navy had captured the Bognor Regis, the southern sea coast. And In midst of the battle, they surrendered. We were shocked and thankful at the same time.” He continued with a short pause. “They invited us into their barracks, for a dinner. They stated it was act of peace and no one would be harmed.”

Thomas let out a roaring laugh. “And you agreed to dine with the enemies? I can’t believe it.”

“That was the only option we had. We had orders to accept peace in any way we could. Official were not concerned about our lives. And moreover, no one believed Germans would do anything to harm us, anything that would degrade their honour.”

“You walked into the trap for peace though you had the victory.” Thomas said as raised from his chair and walked towards the window. He imbibed another glass of whiskey as he stared down at the darkness.

“So you seek vengeance on those who did you wrong?” Thomas asked. “ I am afraid I can’t do that. In fact, They might have been dead already.”

“No. I do not believe in retaliation.”

“Then? What probably can a dead soldier desire other than revenge.”

“At the place where I was murdered stands a castle owned by a royal family. Tomorrow night, a gigantic feast is about to take place there. I want you to be a part of it.”

“You mean attend it uninvited? I do not allow myself to do that.” Thomas had no problem going in uninvited parties. He would always use his aura to influence them, to make them believe he was one of the guest. He had done that many times. But this time he held back. Something told him not to trust this spirit.

He looked at John. “I am not sure how me attending the feast would help you to attain the outcast.”

“I was stabbed bitterly to my death before the repast. Spirits killed before the meal meander around the world, carrying the suffering of hunger and thirst. All these years, I hankered around the world for satisfaction . My body was gone, but the soul could feel the pain.” John explained. “ A raven can fulfil the wishes of spirit on their behalf. I would be really happy if you accept my request.”

Thomas thought for a while. He had done this for many spirits. There won’t be any harm in doing that for another spirit.

“Okay then, as you said, I would attend the feast.” He promised.

The alcohol had no effect on him. And just as every night, he couldn’t sleep. He had dived deep into ocean of thoughts. He thought about the night when he first saw a spirit, at the age of ten. It was a lady in black toga but glowed complete white. She had explained him about his duty, about his new life.

“When a raven dies,” he remembered her words, “they become powerful. They can do anything. But at the same time they would be in more pain than normal spirits. You would face that too.” She had explained him the hard truth of his life. “Kill another to go in eternal darkness, at the same place, in the same way.” Her voice echoed in his head. Thomas thought about other Ravens. He had never met any but was sure of their existence. He was sure that they all lived in in same dreadful conditions.

Then his thoughts shifted to John Nevill. Thomas had sensed the scent of lies in his talks. Ravens had that power. But he was unsure of which part of the talk was a lie. Maybe all of it was.

The venue for the feast was not far from his house. He had to change three subways before he arrived at his destination. The place was isolated from cities with a distance of at least 3 miles, covered by the dense forest.

What Thomas was admiringly looking at was a prepossessing castle of medieval times. He knew that England was full of these marvellous creations, but this one was way more fascinating than any other he had ever seen. The lights made it look even wonderful, especially since the night had seeped in. The view looked so magnificent to be real.

He walked towards the castle only to be stopped by a guard at the gateway.

“Excuse me sir, invitation card please.” The guard asked with all the humbleness he could muster.

“Are you sure you need it?” Thomas replied gently with his charming smile. The guard stared at his blue eyes. Thomas could tell the guard was all under his control.

“Obsoletely not, sir.” The guard said with his hypnotised voice. “Welcome to the Royal feast.”

The bailey of the castle was full of people. The Royal gossips had already begun. Some quaffed cocktails, some laughed heartedly while some stood nervously looking over the crowd. Servers roved around the crowd serving drinks to the royals guests.

Thomas scanned the crowd and spotted a beautiful woman. As he strolled towards her, he lifted a glass cocktail from a servers plate.

“Hello there, beautiful,” Thomas greeted her with his amorous voice. “I don’t think I have introduced myself.”

The lady startled and looked at him. She gazed deep into his blue eyes. Within seconds she was mesmerized, completely under, his spell.

“I am Thomas Goodwin.” He stretched out his hand towards her while sipping a drink.

“Merry Johnson.” She replied with a smile. “How come I never met you?”

“Well, I…”

His reply was cut by a manly voice behind him.

“Excuse me.” The guy looked at him with a smirk on his face. He was dressed in a blue pinstripe suit just like everyone else.

“I don’t think I recognise you?” He asked.

In no time, Thomas convinced him that he was a part of a Royal family.

“Ah, welcome, Mr Goodwin.” He greeted Thomas with a handshake. “I am George Williams.”

“Let’s go. The feast is about to start.” He gestured towards the door. People had started to move inside. He joined the crowd.

After taking several staircases, he reached the big room. A huge table was placed in the centre, and on it were decorated appetizers he had never seen. He took the seat besides George. Not that he liked the guy. He just didn’t want to use his charm on anyone to convince them that he belonged there. George mostly talked about wars and the glory of royals, of which Thomas had no interest in. He just wanted to eat as fast as possible and leave this place. “Just have enough to satisfy the spirit.” He thought to himself.

The musicians started playing their melodies as feast began. The plates were filled with dishes of meat, fishes and vegetables. And the golden glasses were filled with red wine.

As Thomas dug his spoon in the dish of steak tartare, George looked at him.

“I know who you are?” George said with a beam. Thomas startled.

“What do you mean by that?” He managed. “I told you I am….”

“A raven.” George cut him off. A look of panic arose on Thomas’s face. No one would know about his real identity other than the dead. Was George dead? No, he would have sensed that. And no spirit would have power to take a human form. No spirit other than…

“A spirit of a raven.” He murmured, still with shock. It took a second for him to settle everything down. He stared at him with silence.

“What do you think of illusions?” George asked as he took a bite of a fried fish.

“About what?” Thomas asked in a startled voice. George simply pointed towards the end of the table. Every person on the table was staring at him.

He realised what was happening. He remembered the old legend. The first spirit he had met told him about the spirits of raven. “They can do anything.” He recalled. For a raven to attain the outcast, the spirit has to kill another raven in the same way they have been killed.

“Illusions.” Thomas muttered. Before he could think, everything changed . The people who looked so alive just a minute before, crumbled to dust. The beautiful walls of castle that were painted white were now torn out, filled with cracks. The roof of the castle to which the chandelier hung was now half open. He looked at the plate in his front. The wine present in the golden was now thick, red blood poured in a black, muddy glass. The meat and fish were filled with fungus. The aroma that filled the room was now a foul odor.

Thomas knew what was coming. But it was too late. Before he could move, a dagger pierced through his sternum from back. He glanced down at the tip of the weapon. Roaring in pain, he looked back. The attacking figure standing there changed form from George to John. He was no more a shadow. Thomas could make out his physical details.

“I am sorry,” John paced a hand on his shoulder. “I had to do it. To attain the outcast, to get my way through.” Thomas could see the pity in his eyes. He fell to his knees and touched the flowing blood.

He managed a smile through that intense pain. “Did I flirt with an illusion?” He jokingly asked remembering his conversion with Merry. The darkness took over his sight and in no time, his soul raised high above, leaving body into dust.

………..

“I need you to attend the feast.” Thomas said as he explained about his past life. “ It’s the only way I can get to outcast.”

“Ok I will do it.” The raven said.

July 02, 2021 02:02

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