The mysterious well. ( A Halloween kind of read)
It loomed in the moors, enshrouded by creeping evil vines emanating a gruesome odour. Built of ancient darkened rocks hewed from the lost realms of the forgotten people of Urth. A creeping darkness, stories recounted, resided there. The voices of those it swallowed, whispering in each passing wind extending its tendrils to grasp whoever fell for its charm and mysteries. No one dared to venture around it at night. Even in daylight, they took different paths avoiding the cursed environs like a deadly plague.
What was the story of this well? only Anon, could say for sure for his, was the only encounter known to man, of the horror that nested within the walls of the endless pit.Anon sat in his front yard, a worn out cottage in the remote village, polishing his brown boots. He donned worn out clothing and a haggard beard hung from his chin.
He was considered a pauper. He never got married and was regarded as the village failure and jest. He was a writer. He authored quite a few failed books that no one ever read. Anon, had zeal and enthusiasm. Still, all he wanted was an idea that no one had. A humongous idea that will get him the respect and status he so much longed and deserved. Maybe, the world will no longer view him in contempt and spit when he passed by the marketplace. He needed the story of his life.Anon, had heard stories of a strange well in the gloomy moors, from a mage, he had encountered in one of his fruitless voyages in search of inspiration.
The old mage had told of the gifts and wishes granted at the wells beckon. The mage, further recounted, informing Anon, all he needed to do was toss one large gold coin, a log of hair from the back of his head, the fingernail from his right index finger, and the fingernail from his left wee toe, and a pint of wine to appease summoned spirit. The dweller of the well, the secret whisperer and giver of knowledge and wisdom, was how he named it. No one knew how or why it came to be, or what its name was. Surely, this was hypnotic and enchanting to his desperation. The only chance for success he had, was to get to where the spirit rested, and for it, to whisper the next big idea to his longing ears. it was either that or imminent suicide.
To the wilderness, he rode on a grey horse as it galloped on the stony, narrow path, heading moor-ward. It was a three-day journey but was worth it. He prepared for it with bread, cheese, cured meat, poached eggs, and a water-skin to keep him hydrated.
Anon, arrived the moors exhausted, a few hours before dark and made camp there while awaiting midnight where he would incant and present his weird demands.
He calculated the timing extremely well. It was indeed a full moon.
At midnight, when the bright moonlight streamed into the deepest recesses of the well, he commenced.
"Oh spirits of wisdom," He stated
"humble Anon of Ilar beckons on the goodwill of the charitable river of the all knowing to stream to my senses, the all true source of writing, so, I can write the biggest book ever written. One that for eternity, will never be forgotten. A book so knowledgeable, it would grace the esteemed libraries of the wealthy elites and tug under the arms of youthful scholars." He wished, tossing the coin, hair and nails into the bottomless well.
"Heed my wish and grant it now." He completed, poring the pint of red wine and taking a deep breath.
Thick darkened smoke rose from within the pitch dark well, morphing into a figure, hooded and rickety. As the creature came to full view, Anon could see the bared fangs and extended cranky talons, as the figure swept towards him in the blink of an eye, as if he walked from the air itself.
Stumbling and rummaging for his sword, his efforts fell into futility. He was already in the creatures grasp like a fly caught in a spiders web with no hope of escape. His strained face dripped with sweat. He quivered in the clutches of a bizarre creature.
The hood fell off the creature, and its features came to full disclosure.
Anon screamed in fright, shutting his eyes and struggling to get away from the imminent nightmare.He was in shock of the hellish flames he had gazed at. Then, the creature gaped its mouth gaping the elongated teeth and growling a sound that tore into Anon's soul like a thousand talons had ripped his flesh. Anon's head fell limp as he collapsed in the creatures arms. #horror #fantasy #halloween