The Oubliette

The Oubliette

Ancient grimoires,
With their alchemist's stories,

Lead to a learning,
Of oddic forces a'churning.

Secrets lay hidden,
Nature's forces are bidden.

The dark abyss calls,
Forbidden wisdom enthralls.

The rituals lure,
Into realms now impure.

Unnatural bound beings,
Tortured souls still screaming.

Maintain your control,
Guard that light airy soul.

A bane to our kind,
Beware of a curious mind.

It began slowly--slight movements; a light thump...thump. The table began to rock higher on its stilted legs, thump, thump...thump, thump. It hit the cold stone floor rapidly now, racing like the hearts of the awestruck socialites, shaking convulsively, thump, thump…thump, thump.

The table rose into the air; it hung there for just a moment--then dropped. A foul wind rushed through the air of the darkened great hall. “Sweet Mother what is that horrid stench?” Amanda Dandridge exclaimed.

The crowd stared at Mercy Caldwell, orphaned at the age of eleven and the toast of Europe by fifteen. Mercy was a child prodigy. The heir apparent of the spiritualist's realm, she undulated in her trance state, breathing heavily, skin flushed, her head rolling back and forth. A chill echoing voice came from her throat, “A man in a white robe is standing over a great black pit. His followers are chanting something." A low gurgling issued from her throat, her eyes quickly rolling back into her head.   

“Raaaaa-Het-heruuuuu-Iaaaaaooooo-Asaaaarrrrrrr!" 

The wind roared in their ears. It circled the heavy oak table like a whirlpool, lifting small objects in its wake and dashing them against the walls. The ancient tapestries waving and twisting madly in the strange maelstrom.

"Ahhh-seeeb-kaaaheeem-Naaaruuuu-Emmm-Hotep Heru!"

The tiny spiritualist squirmed. Her blank white eyes staring sightlessly. She began to whisper, "Something has gone horribly…Jesus. Their flesh is being shredded, like a thousand invisible whips…bloods spurting…their eyes… It’s coming from the pit…it sees me! No, please, nooooowh, no!”

“Dear God man, bring her out of it at once!” Colonel Edmond yelled.

The mesmerist clapped his hands in a rhythmic pattern, clap--clap--clap, clap. “Awake, Mercy.” Objects fell from the air, as if dropped by a careless child. The guests raced to little Mercy's side.

“Let me through!” Commanded Alberto Octarini.

“Sir, I shall have you brought up on charges for this; it is criminal negligence, at the least,” threatened Colonel Edmond.

Alberto shot back, “We were invited here sir. Why was I not warned that this place had a history of supernatural activity? I dare say, you and Miss Dandridge share some blame for this as well. Help me get her to a room. She is drained near to death.”

“Oh my God! Yes, there is a spare servants room just down the hall. Poor little dear.” Amanda wrung her hands as she spoke. Damn! It's a disaster. Her guests grumbled angrily and began showing themselves out. None bothered to thank the distraught hostess.

Alberto began hooking up his magnetic apparatus next to the small cot where Mercy lay. A man shouldered his way into the little room yelling, “What are you doing!”

Alberto roared, “I am board certified, and she is my patient. I suggest you get the bloody hell out of here now!”

The man retreated silently.

“Is she all right? Mother of God! What just happened?” Amanda asked excitedly.

***

Alberto Octarini was an aging physician who found himself in the unfortunate position of having publicly endorsed Mesmer and the efficacy of magnetic treatments. With the subsequent loss of prestige and a great many of his best paying customers, he had been forced to seek other types of recompense.

The Maidens Of Christ Orphanage sent the delicate young Mercy to him for the treatment of a nervous disorder. Alberto was very familiar with this quaint euphemism... it was often used in official circles to denote poltergeist activity. If they were sending her to him, that was almost certainly the case.

She was led into his office by a big-shouldered, heavyset woman in the somber black habit of her order. The nun growled as shook little Mercy by one arm, “Here she is, Doctor, the little witch!  See if you can drive the devil out of this one.”

"Please stop, it’s not her fault,” said Alberto.

“Oh it isn't, is it? Well what would you know about it! If it were up to me we’d do this the old fashioned way and burn this little twig of a girl!”

“You may come back in a couple of hours but I demand privacy for all my sessions, now if you please!”  Alberto said, disgusted and angry.

Alberto looked into the face of a angel graced by wavy locks of raven black hair. Her big green eyes were dimmed by the dark circles beneath them. The child was emaciated, her high cheekbones almost protruding from the pale white skin. Yet she was possessed of a delicate beauty only found in the very young. She stood calmly as if listening for something in the little white cotton dress that was her only gown. Alberto's heart beat with empathy for this "Little twig of a girl."

Shadowy apparitions and incessant pleadings from the disembodied had plagued Mercy from early childhood. With the onset of puberty, her natural talents were demonstrated in a most remarkable and destructive manner. Alberto spent months diligently training Mercy to block out the voices and to guard her life-energy, to keep the disembodied from using her for their temper tantrums. In the meantime, he had determined not to leave her in the tender care of the Maidens of Christ and began adoption proceedings.

***

Alberto sat in a little chair beside Mercy’s bed, tenderly holding her hand. His sad eyes looked pleadingly into her sweet face. Sleeping beauty he thought to himself as he kissed her cheek. She stirred. Her eyes opened slowly.

“What happened, Alberto?” he thought, that's odd, she always calls me "Bear." 

“It was a bad one, my dear, I was afraid--I might lose you,” Alberto said, trying hard to hide his inner turmoil.

“What do you mean?” Mercy asked.

“We may have awoken something tonight, something--” Alberto thought aloud.

Mercy grabbed the covers and awkwardly rolled off the cot. “Don’t be silly, it’s just another séance.” 

Alberto asked, “Where do you think you're going, young lady?“

“I feel fine. I just want to get a glass of water,” she replied nonchalantly, moving to the dresser along the wall. “Am I your dear?” Mercy asked in a subdued tone, lowering her head.

Mercy looked at herself in the mirror of the antique dressing table. Running her tiny hands seductively over her silky black nightshirt. “Look at me Bear! I am a woman.” Mercy bent over the dresser and delicately held the back of her gown. Then she pulled it up, slowly revealing herself.

Mercy rolled her hips and said in a sultry, breathy voice so unlike her, “Can you see now? Aughh.” 

Oh God, have mercy, Alberto thought.

“Alright who’s there, who am I talking too?” Alberto said.

She spun suddenly, eyes blazing visciously. “You Fool!” a wicked hollow voice emanated from her lips. “I offer your most burning secret desire, all you had to do was play along! Now you shall die without ever tasting this juicy, wet, forbidden fruit.”

Alberto asked, “Who are you?” Mercy collapsed to the floor. Alberto was shaken. He looked at her for a long moment, then picked her up gently and laid her back on the cot.

***

Colonel Edmond held Amanda tightly as he stroked her strawberry-blond hair. She sobbed, “Why does this always happen to me? I'm ruined."

Oh, what a simply marvelous idea that was! Why we'll have a séance with the best spiritualist on the circuit. Spiritualism is all the rage on the Continent and a full-blown phenomenon in America. Oh yes... Why it will be the biggest social coup of my entire life! Ha, how could I have been so...as my adopted countrymen say bloody wrong? God only knows why European society feels so superior to the “Nouveau Riche,” as if it was a sin for your father to have actually earned his money. This hard-nosed American was going to show all those old world snobs. How dare they turn up their noses and turn down those gorgeous, gold-leafed engraved invitations. Well, I showed them all right, showed them right to the door that led out of my life forever.

"They will never accept me now!” Amanda cried.

Colonel Edmond picked her up and laid her gently on the bed and stroked her hair. “They will, my dearest, I will see to that!”

Amanda felt a strange heat, a hot throbbing pulsation in the air, all her senses were alive with it. “Don’t leave me, please, don’t leave me. Not tonight!” Her breathing became heavy and erratic and her nipples stiffened, standing almost painfully erect. Amanda hands reached to touch forbidden places and she moaned. Her hands fumbled at the Colonel's belt.

Colonel Edmond was astonished, she had always been so standoffish with him. He was almost frightened by the bestial lust in her glazed eyes, he tried to push her away. But she would not be denied.

Her need aroused something primitive in him, an uncivilized lust. He hadn’t felt like this since he was a very young man. He grabbed her by the hair and took her. Amanda squeezed her eyes shut tightly.What is that stench? she thought, just like at the séance! Floating above the colonel’s head she saw disembodied eyes glowing hot red, staring knowingly, malignantly into her own. She screamed shrilly, desperately trying to roll out from under the startled man. 

“What the Devil?” Colonel Edmond bellowed. “Good God, woman what’s gotten into you?”  Amanda scrambled away quickly, drawing the covers tightly up around her neck, wide eyed and trembling, one arm shot out, pointing her finger at something behind him.

***

Mercy had lain unconscious for the last two days. Alberto held her small hand. “Come on honey, come back to me.”  She was everything to him, the only tether holding him to this life, his only remaining joy. He was so proud of her. Suddenly for the first time in ages tears formed in his old eyes.

"Come to dinner with us, Alberto, you hardly left this room in days.” Amanda pleaded.

“I want to be here when she wakes up, I need to be here,” Alberto said quietly.

“I insist. I simply will not take no for an answer,” Amanda said as she grabbed him by the arm and practically lifted him from the chair.

“All--All right.” He replied.

***

It was a somber, subdued group that gathered around the huge oak table. The wood-beamed ceiling arched twenty feet above the great hall. The conversation almost non-existent as they delicately sipped sherry from crystal decanters and nibbled half-heartedly at their food.

"Will she be all right, Doctor?" Edmond asked, broaching the subject that was weighing on all of their minds.

“I pray she will. I'll never forgive myself if anything happens to her,” Alberto said wearily. Flip--flop, flip--flop “What is that?”

“Look,” Amanda said quietly. Mercy trotted into the hall, her tiny bare feet slapping on the cold stone floors.

“She's--she’s sleepwalking. Let’s follow her,” Alberto said. Mercy’s small quick steps led them down the corridor to a hidden passage. Inside was an old stairway covered in cobwebs, wet and moldy. The Colonel grabbed a lantern from off a table and lit it as they followed Mercy into the darkness. The descent led them into a dungeon, a silent reminder of a cold-blooded, brutal age.

“Sweet Mother of Pearl,” said Amanda, “I had no idea--a torture chamber! If I had known, I never would have bought this horrid place!” Amanda shrieked and grasped the Colonel's arm as rats scurried across the floor.

Mercy led them past the rusting implements of the torturer's black art to an iron bound oak door. Here she stopped, pushing and tugging at the door to gain entrance. Alberto grabbed a branding iron from a nearby brazier, prying at the heavy iron lock until it burst free. "Maybe we shouldn't go down there," Amanda said.

The huge stairwell led down like a corkscrew, hiding from view all that lay beyond the next turn. The stench became stifling, making it hard to breath, the air chill and damp. At the bottom was a large cavernous room, in the middle of which lay an ominous black pit. Mercy ran to the edge of the pit and raised her arms triumphantly into the air as she began chanting.

“Raaaa-Het-heruuu-Iaaaaoooo-Asaaaarrrrr!"

As they neared her, a heavy wind lifted and slammed them against the walls, pinning them there. Alberto tried to free himself with every ounce of his strength. “Mercy! Wake up! Wake up! Mercy! For Christ's Sakes!”

"Ahhh-seeeeb-kaaaaheeem-Naaaruuuu-Emm-Hotep Heru!"

From out of the pit it arose: a slimy translucent thing, a bloated mass with a hundred eyes burning hot-red peering out of the flesh rippling with a thousand tentacles waving hungrily about.

An ancient, elemental being, engorged on the bodies and souls of the victims. Ones it had consumed over the ages. Its' essence was tainted, twisted by the tortured ka's of those poor unfortunates cast helpless into the black pit. Its' inhuman mind fed with all the darkness lurking in the human psyche, soaking in a viscous black pool of pain, lust and rage.

Now it sensed fresh victims, the kind it had learned to savor, salivating in gruesome anticipation for the tantalizing feast that lay before it. Slap--lap. Tentacles found Amanda. Slap, lap. They tore through her clothes, ripping them aside, to get at the tender, warm flesh beneath. Slap, lap.

It grabbed her arms. Dear God, No, No, she thought as she feverishly struggled to free herself from its clutches. It held her helpless against the rough cavern walls. The tentacles encircled her trembling thighs, forcefully spreading them open. Slap, lap.

A hundred lust-filled eyes stared mercilessly down upon her. Yes squirm, wriggle, I love that, it makes it so much yummier when they fight me. Slap, lap. Tentacles slithered over soft skin, sending shivers of revulsion and pleasure through her tormented flesh. Slap, lap. She squirmed. "Aughh, no--please no--don't, no!" she said, shaking her head violently from side to side.  Tut, tut...as if this fiendish elemental could be ordered away like a schoolboy with a crush.

The elemental taunted her, playing with her as a cat plays with a wounded mouse. It encircled her waist and lifted her in the air. Another tentacle moved slowly, slowly, inevitably up between her naked thighs. Amanda gasped, her heart racing as the slimy, translucent tentacle undulated on the edge of its insidious goal. Slap, lap.

"Yes, yes, do it, you bastard!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. Slap, lap. She gyrated her hips madly towards those inhuman whip-like appendages, struggling desperately to end her torment.

She could stand it no longer; madness flooded her soul...Slap--lap. Her blood shot out in wet red streams against the walls and slowly dripped back down. Colonel Edmond wet himself as he watched. A tentacle struck his leg. Slap--lap. The pain stabbed through his spine, searing his brain, in another moment he was gone.

“Mercccy!” Alberto howled as he was dragged, closer and closer to the waiting maw of the primordial fiend. 

***

Constable Havenwick and his men stood about the pit, looking stunned. “What happened here, girl?”

“I told you! I don’t know constable. I can’t remember anything after the séance!” Mercy exclaimed.

"Well, let's get out of this hellhole. I want a crew out here to fill in the oubliette," said the Constable shaking his head. "Never seen anything like."

One of the men looked over the edge. There below at the bottom of the pit, set in the ground, were two-foot iron spikes. Impaled upon those spikes were the skeletal remains of a scores of victims; rats prowled among the littered remains of broken human bones. As the men turned to leave, no one saw Mercy’s eyes glowing hot red.

“Raaaa-Het-heruuu-Iaaaaoooo-Asaaaarrrrr!"

The End