Trembling With Fear 8-25-24

No Seeker of Forbidden Knowledge, by Christopher Pate

Before he took his last breath, their father insisted on two things.

First, the brothers were to take the key in the top drawer of their father’s bureau for safekeeping, for theirs was now a solemn trust handed down from fathers to sons within their family for generations.

Second, the twins were to never venture into the mound beyond the old cotton fields, for theirs was a duty to ward, not to seek revelation.

Each nodded gravely as their father shuddered and died.

#

The twins, Elijah and Ethan, took possession of the key after their father’s funeral. Each agreed to conceal it upon a chain about their neck for a week at a time, for theirs was to be a shared burden.

Ethan, who was named for their maternal grandfather, remarked, turning the ancient, rust-pitted key over in the delicate fingers of a musician. “Why should there be a secret mound upon our land that we guard but do not visit?”

Elijah, who was named after their paternal grandfather, shrugged as he eyed the key that once must have been bright but now seemed time-bitten and shadow-blighted, “Sometimes we are not meant to know certain things, brother. Trust in Father’s words and keep it safe. That is all we have been tasked to do.”

Ethan nodded, fingering the key a moment longer before tucking it away beneath his shirt. “True, brother. We will do our duty as Father intended.”

Elijah nodded, templing fingers grown callused from hard work on the farm. “And so we shall, brother.”

#

Ethan stole through the briar-choked fields until he stood before the low, squat mound in the lurid moonlight. The key winked dully in his delicate fingers.

The door was hard to find, and he took no few scratches and scraps clearing away the brambles and thorn bushes that sought almost willfully to impede his progress. At last, the ancient door was revealed beneath the moon’s cold radiance, bearing an ornate lock and a rusty grate. Ethan opened the grate and peered within but could make out nothing in the thick darkness. The key fit deftly, and the lock turned with a sharp click as if the mechanism were well tended.

Blackness yawned beyond the open door, and Ethan knew a moment of deep dread and indecision. He left the key in the door, the chain glittering in the moonlight. With a thumb-flick, his flashlight splashed the interior in yellow light as he stepped across the threshold, boldly overcoming shaky knees and trembling breath.

After a few strides, he gasped and stepped back, flinging the light shakily about the mound’s dank, darkness-clotted interior. Bones littered the floor—cracked and gnawed, gouged and shattered, chewed and splintered. The fragile domes of skulls grinned up at Ethan from the hard-packed floor.

Something shifted in the inky murk, ponderous and squelching. A croak echoed thunderously in the close, noisome confines. The brute noise sounded insanely, horribly like a word—hungry. Ethan blanched and turned to flee, but the door slammed shut in his face with a rasping clang.

Elijah peered through the grate, bearing a wistful expression lit by the moon. “Always too curious, brother. Always too eager to disobey our father.”

“Elijah, open the door. Some thing is within!” Ethan desperately pushed and shoved at the door, eyes wide with terror.

“Oh, I know, dear brother.” Elijah’s voice came through the grate, cool as well-water. “Did you know Father had a twin brother?”

“What? What are you saying?” Ethan turned to put his back against the door, waving his flashlight wildly. The beam lanced through the darkness but only picked out more moldering bones and twisted roots dangling from walls and ceiling. “We have no uncle.”

“Oh, quite true. Not anymore, at least. Our uncle met his fate before we were born, not long after our paternal grandfather passed a certain key to his twin sons. The same key, in fact, you used to gain entry to this place expressly forbidden to us.” Elijah’s voice carried pity and resignation as he slipped the key’s chain about his neck and tucked the ancient device inside his shirt.

“Elijah, let me out! Something’s in here!” Ethan’s voice crackled in panic.

A heavy slithering shivered the musky air as if to confirm the assertion. Another guttural croak rumbled, “Hungry.”

Elijah sighed and shook his head. “Never the one to gasp the obvious, brother. As did our father and uncle, we both bear a profound responsibility. A terrible treasure dwells within this place. One that secures our family’s fortunes as it has for generations. One son guards, and the other honors the other half of an ancient bargain, crossing the threshold of his own free will. Father chose me long ago to fulfill the former.”

The flashlight dropped from nerveless fingers as Ethan whirled and gripped the door’s grill—voice shaking and spittle flying. “Brother, what are you saying? Open the door! Let me out!”

Clumsy, heavy movements quaked the mound, shivering earth and mold from the low, arched ceiling, and a terrible voice boomed, “HUNGRY.”

“Goodbye, Ethan.” Elijah’s smile was sad as he closed the door’s grill. “Time now to fulfill your duty, brother.”