#Not-a-ZapFic: "15 rows". A short story based on Humpbuckle Tale 359

almost 2 years ago

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Groll recoils as the thing in the cage snarls, spits and its black tentacles reach form him through the bars of the cage.

“Be nice!” he hisses. “Or you’ll get no more food.”

The creature tilts its head to one side as if considering his words. If it can understand Engish it will know he isn’t bluffing: it wouldn't be the first time Groll has punished it.

But he doesn't believe it is that intelligent. Certainly, the dissection he performed on the beast's friend revealed a pathetically tiny brain.

It is more likely that it is simply reacting to his tone of voice.

A learned response.

It sits on its haunches and lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a harrumph. Green fog rises from its nostrils. It smells like rotting flesh. .

Groll smiles, despite the stench and the burning sensation as the misty tendrils caress his skin.

"Good," he says, stepping back. "You're learning. Sit quietly while I check on the others. I'll be back with food if you stay quiet and still."

He hits the cage door with his cane, but the beast doesn't jump in fear as he hoped. It stares back with - what looks to Groll - like steely hatred.

He returns the stare for a moment before shrugging and moving on.

He walks up and down the entire fifteen rows of his collection, his "archive of the unusual."

He pauses, as he always does, at the large shimmering mirror : the first object he found.

The item that begun it all.

The first time he looked into it he saw another world. Well, almost.

It was strangely familiar, it looked like Humpbuckle-on-sea, but it was on fire.

All of it was being devoured by fierce flames.

Even the sea.

The man in the mirror looked just like Groll, only older and fatter. And more terrified.

The other Groll was shouting, or screaming, but no sound came through the glass.

Then, the image had faded. The black featureless surface left Groll wondering if he'd imagined it.

But every day since - and almost ten thousand days had passed since that discovery in the Humpbuckle caves - the mirror had shown him a different reality, another version of Humpbuckle-on-sea. Some of them were as terrifying - and thrilling - as the first world he had been shown, others were wonderful, breathtakingly beautiful.

Today, as Groll looks into the mirror, he sees himself. Not another version of himself, not another world. It is him, standing in his basement, amongst his beloved collection of artifacts. His fifteen rows of freakish curiosities.

It isn't a reflection. Groll waves his arms and pulls faces at his likeness and the Other-Groll just stares back.

Then, Groll realises Other-Groll isn't breathing. His eyes are dull, lifeless.

As Groll watches a black tentacle writhes between Other-Groll's dead lips.

Groll's mouth goes dry. His heart pounds in his chest. He looks around, panic taking hold.

The creature, safely locked in its cage, stares back at him.

Then it smiles, revealing its razor-sharp teeth.

A tentacle emerges from the cage, waving a bunch of keys.

Groll's keys.

Groll runs towards the thick metal door. He bangs on it, cursing as he realises he locked it shut - as he always does - upon entering his basement.

Behind him he hears the rattle of keys. Then the lock clicks, and the cage door squeals open.

...

This story is #Not-a-ZapFic!