Saturday Short – This Strange Thing Called Fear

Well, life has piled up on me this month, and I haven’t been able to finish That Hideous Strength, which is the next book up in my Year of Reading Lewis series. And I’m a day late posting to the blog. Drat. Well, I’m sure all of you dear readers will survive this slight disruption, but to make it up to you I thought I would post one of my short stories, just for fun. I’ll make this a feature, called Saturday Short, a once and awhile treat of a short story, perfect for whiling away some time on a Saturday..

I originally wrote this for a contest which called for adaptations of Grimm fairy tales, with the addition of a different classic monster. The idea was to write a different story each week and the best ones would make it into an anthology. This story didn’t make it, perhaps because I decided to use an obscure Grimm tale rather than the standard Cinderella, Snow White, etc. Oh well.

The monster I had to incorporate in to the story was a vampire. Now, I can enjoy a good vampire story but I’m not that fond of writing about them. It’s all been done so many times before, right? But I actually found it a  fun challenge and in the end, I’m pleased with the story even though it didn’t get published.

If you are interested, the Grimm fairy tale I began with is The Story of a Boy Who Went Forth to Learn Fear. 

And here’s my story, This Strange Thing Called Fear

One long ago winter’s night, I watched my older brother tremble and cry out as we listened to my father tell a story. We sat around the hearth-fire, the wind moaning around the rafters and knifing through the cracks in the walls of our wattle-clad home. I thought it was one of these icy fingers that had touched my brother, causing him to jump and screech, and so gave him my blanket. He wrapped himself in it but strangely, his squeals and shakes continued, and so I judged that there was something else that caused his strange behaviour.

I looked to my mother and saw her clenched fists, and breathy sighs, and the way her chest rose up and down as if she had been running. This was odd, as she was in fact taking her ease by the fire, being entertained by my father’s tale. It dawned on me then, seeing them both shudder and moan almost as loudly as the wind, that it was something about the story itself that caused their reactions. This puzzled me deeply, for it was a silly story, to my mind, about the dead who walked and the mischief they caused. I could not see the reason for my brother’s distress nor my mother’s wide eyes as they listened.

Mid-way through, my mother turned to me and smothered me in her bosom, crying out that such a tale be too fearsome for my young ears and begging my father to stop, which he did, chucking me under the chin and telling me not to fear, for ’twas merely a tale to bide the time.

Unnecessary advice, for this strange thing called fear I did not know, not then; nor do I now, as a man grown.

It became obvious as I grew older that this was odd, not to tremble and shudder when others around did. It was also odd that at times I saw others tremble and shudder at me, when I would walk through the graveyard at night or face a bear without flinching.

They called me courageous at first, then stupid, and then the other folk took to looking at me sideways, and scuttling away when I approached. Whispers spread, so much so that I determined in my mind that I would learn this thing called fear, and by so doing become as other men are.

My father did not understand my quest, calling me stupid and casting me out, with only 50 thalers to my credit. It stung, this rejection, but I promised myself I would overcome my difficulty and return triumphant, able to shudder with the rest of them.

Oh, the places I went and the things I saw! I met others, who, to be fair, tried without success to help me in my quest. They introduced me to some hanged men knocking in the breeze; and to a castle full of dogs and cats and merry moving beds and other such amusements.

Although through the course of my adventures I did not learn fear, it was not without reward, this journey. Through spending three nights at the enchanted castle I ended up a king, with a fair maiden as a wife, and great riches besides.

For the first few months we lived together well enough, my wife and I, but as time passed the nature of my affliction became real to her.

“Oh husband, ’tis unnatural,” she wailed, one night as a storm battered our castle, the wind whistling around the battlements. “I do not wish for you to be a coward, but surely you can see that to have no fear is dangerous? For without fear how will you understand what danger truly is? How can you protect me, and your kingdom?”

I smiled at her, and petted her head, murmuring sweet words to her until she slept. But her words kept me up the rest of the night as I puzzled over them.

There was a change between us that night. I found her looking at me sideways, at times, and felt her love withdraw from me as sand runs through an hourglass. Her previous regard turned into unease, until finally, I heard her whispers to her maid.

“He is not like other men, and I am afraid,” she said.

It was obvious that my quest was not yet over. I began to see that I would have to leave her as I had left my home, for as I went about my business it became obvious that it was not only she who whispered, but my servants and subjects. Perhaps they would kill me, I thought, which gave me great sorrow that I should die for such a cause.

I determined to leave one night, under the cover of the darkness they all feared, and left my wife sleeping soundly in our gilded bed, stepping softly so as not to wake her.

I left my castle behind, and walked long as the moon rose high, past the sleeping villages of my kingdom. I walked further than ever I had before and finally I came to a cross roads. Here I paused, wondering now which way I should take, for my previous journey weighed heavily in my mind, and most especially my failure to gain my desire. I had tried this once before, I thought, and failed. What point to try again?

It was vexing, this problem. Surely there must be somewhere I could go to learn how to shudder, when at long last I could be as other men were. And then I could return to my kingdom, and my wife, and the whispers would cease.

As I stood there, perplexed, I saw a shadow moving in the woods, and soon a man stepped out from the trees.

He was very pale, gleaming in the moonlight that shone all around. His eyes were black pools in his white face, and they were fixed upon me with marvellous intent. He was dressed all in black, and had an elegant air, I considered, seeing the smooth and graceful way he strode towards me.

A strange man, to be sure, but I was glad to see him, for I thought to ask him if he knew which places the roads led to. I was on a road I was not accustomed to, and wished to leave my kingdom, to seek a faraway place where mayhap they could teach me all I lacked.

I waited as he approached, and he stopped, a few paces away, silent. I drew my cloak closer to me, to ward against the chill that deepened as we stood regarding each other.

“Greetings,” said I. “It is fortunate indeed to meet you here, for I am in need of help.”

At this the man laughed, and as he did I saw his teeth were pointy in his mouth, and thin. His laugh made the air colder, and it had a sharp edge to it, that cut the air around us.

How inconvenient, I thought, and wondered at his own lack of a cloak.

“Help, is it?” His voice was soft, and pleasing to the ear. “Well, the help I give, you might not want. But I am curious, for when men see me they scream, and tremble, and run, yet here you stand, and do not move. What gives you such courage?”

“It is not courage,” I said, and I admit to some weariness in the answering. I longed for the time when I would not have to explain this, over and over again. “It is that I have not yet learned to fear. I am on my way, in truth, to find a place where I might learn it. You seem an obliging sort, to converse with me, so I would ask you: Do you know of such a place?”

A mist was rising, clammy and cold,, and I was forced to pull my cloak even tighter against it.

“Ah. Not a place, no. But perhaps I could help you, after all.” He stepped closer, his black eyes glittering in the moonlight. I saw his hands, the fingers long and pointed as he stroked his chin, regarding me with a faint smile on his face. “Tell me, why do you want to learn this?”

I sighed, and thought that perhaps this man could not help me after all. Surely he should not have to ask. “To be as other men, of course. To enjoy their society, to have the respect of my wife…” I trailed off as I saw the slow grin crawl across his face. It was odd, that grin, for it was most unpleasant.

“Then indeed I can help you! For here is your problem: you wish to be like them, but have you never thought that they should be like you? To have no fear, to never tremble?”

I was struck dumb, for indeed he was right. I had not thought of that before.

He stepped closer, the cold deepening around me, and I found my voice.

“Why you are right, of course! But how could I do such a thing? I seem to be the only one with this affliction.”

His smile widened, moonlight glinting silver off his pointed teeth, and I remember thinking how beautiful they were.

“You are wrong, for I, too am like you. I have no fear, no need to tremble.”

Again I was dumbfounded, and it took some time for me to speak. The mist was thickening now, swirling so that it alternately obscured and revealed his long, thin form.

“How could this be? I thought I was the only one.”

He stepped closer, through the mist, until he was right before me. I had not noticed before, but his black eyes had a faint tint of red in them, like a banked fire.

“Oh no, not the only one at all,” he said, and I was trembling now, but not for fear, but for the cold, which had thickened around us as surely as the mist. “There are many of us. And here is a secret: I know how to make others like us, and I will show you how, if you are willing.”

I cannot tell you the joy I felt at his words. I would be able to return to my kingdom, to my wife and subjects, and make them like me, to have no fear. I would be able to make the whispers stop.

“Oh please, sir,” I said, “I am most willing, indeed.”

His smile was fierce, and his eyes glowing coals.“Loose your cloak and bare your neck, then, and it will be done.”

It was long ago, when I stood on that road before him, so long that the years between then and now have blurred into a river of time that tumbles each moment smooth, robbing them of their poignancy.

But that moment I will never forget, that moment when his long sliver teeth bit deep and everything in me changed.

I woke up hungry, and my mentor showed me the way of our kind, the stalking and the pouncing, the salty nectar of blood and the burning fire of the sun.

You may ask what is the end of this story, what became of my wife, my kingdom, my family. It is a tale to long for the telling, but I can say that I did return, and indeed I made them like me, as my mentor said I could.

It has come to me, in the long years since that beautiful moonlit night when I finally understood my error, that this thing called fear is something not to be desired, after all. For see what I gained because of its lack? Wealth, a beautiful wife, a kingdom, and life never-ending.

Fear is highly overrated.

But it is hard to explain this by words. It is rather something you must experience for yourself.

I’ll visit you soon. And then you’ll see.

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8 thoughts on “Saturday Short – This Strange Thing Called Fear

  1. sdorman2014 says:

    from your story: “it was a silly story, to my mind” is my experience with the Grimm’s tale. “This Strange Thing Called Fear” is truly frightening in the deep places. lovely evocative image, made sinister by the tale.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. L.A. Smith says:

    Thanks so much! I’m glad you enjoyed it. I guess in defense of the Grimm brothers, their story is meant to be a children’s tale so it does sound a bit silly to our ears. It was interesting to delve into the Grimm’s treasury and find a lesser-known story, at least it was to me.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. […] about it for now. I am going to continue with my Year of Reading Lewis series, and the occasional Saturday Short, featuring some of my short stories. I would also like to add some author interviews and guest […]

    Liked by 1 person

  4. sdorman2014 says:

    hi, ms. Smith! have you seen this challenge yet?

    http://mythgard.org/writing-contest/

    Like

  5. […] This Strange Thing Called Fear […]

    Like

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