Sinful Banquet

By Siya Agarwal

The glint of a knife. Blood dripping off, splattering on the ground. A memory buried long ago. But no, the walls remembered. They remembered the girl, her heavy breathing and the dragging, course sound behind her. Her red hair and taunting smile. They remembered everything. After all, if they did not, who would? Who would be witness to the girl again five years later if not them? But this time will the walls echo with laughter or with screams like last time? The walls could only wait, watching, listening.

Ellis’s rasping breaths reverberated in the empty hallway. Loud. Too loud. Dragging against the walls as she staggered towards the black door at the end of the hallway. The black door rattled in anticipation, begging her feet to go faster, to open the door after so long. She didn't want to. She didn't. She knew not what was behind it; if it was the same thing as five years ago or some new monster altogether. But even though she didn't want to, she had to. Because if somebody had discovered it, her life would be forfeit. The life she spent decades constructing, the life she cherished. After all, a dead body locked in the crypt of the school would raise some serious questions.

Her feet came to a halt before the door while her thumb stroked the letter in her pocket. The letter that said if she did not come, her secret would be out. She knew exactly what it meant after looking at the address. It was a memory she had buried, something she never wanted to remember. Yet, monsters always returned to nap at the heels that bred them. She shivered, her grip on the knob hardening. It was time to kick the monster awake.

The door creaked open, the stale wind inside howling in joy. At last, at last, it seemed to sing. At long last we are free.

Walking into the room, she looked around. It was the same as five years ago. Chipped, black wallpaper. Victorian furniture covered in snow-white sheets. And a long mirror at one end, grimy and broken. Still, there was enough left of the mirror to reflect the body on the floor. A body which couldn't really be called one anymore. Every inch of skin had flaked off. Lost to years of decay. Underneath the bones shone dully, maggots camping on the surface. Bits of hair were stuck to the scalp, strands as thin as spider web. And still, the knife, however rusted, was buried in the carcass's chest. As her eyes roamed over the body, the door slammed shut. Ellis jumped.

No. No. No. It couldn't be. There was no one there. Her secret wasn't out. No, no, no. It wasn't real.

Of course, it wasn't real. The wind had shut the door, probably.

There aren't any windows here, Ellis. It dawned on her. She was in the crypt. With no howling winds. Was it all in her mind?

Her eyes travelled to the body. Its eyes flashed open, blood red with the sockets popping out.

Ellis screamed.

It wasn't in her mind. The carcass was real. The wind was real. Her whole body started trembling, her feet tripping over nothing. She crashed against a wall, sliding down it. No, please, no. No. No. NO! She hugged her legs, rocking back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Her mind didn't quiet down, her heart beat faster, and blood roared in her ears. It was too loud. The voice screaming in her mind drowned out everything else. Too loud. She needed it to shut up!

Ellis banged her head against the floor. When the noise didn't stop, she continued banging her head. Blood poured out mixing with the dry flakes already on the ground, reviving it. Her vision blurred. Dark spots dominating. Maybe her skin split, maybe her nose broke. It didn't matter. She didn't stop. She wouldn't until the voice stopped which persevered still. She wouldn't. She wouldnt….

A laugh sounded, out of place in the wailing. Ellis stilled. She knew that voice. She wouldn't ever forget it. It dominated her nightmares and bled into her peaceful days. A slap to reality. The reality of her sins.

Ellis laughed. She really had gone crazy. She had killed that voice along with the owner. She had, hadn't she?

Her eyes strayed to the corpse. But it wasn't….there. The world fractured. There was no corpse. There were no blood flakes on the floor. There was no broken, dusty mirror or victorian furniture covered in sheets. There was only her in an old crypt with blood pouring down her head and the world brimming with noise around her. There was only her. Only her….

Ellis laughed again. Harder. Perhaps, a little crazier, a little more deranged. The laugh of someone who was breaking and alone. But then came the answering laugh; glinting like the edge of a knife and just as dangerous.

She had, hadn't she?

By Siya Agarwal