Creative Writing Collection

The Five Pillars of Goblin Curse

       They are like elves, or goblins. Winged, devilish, deformed goblins. No proper name, just ‘the goblins.’ Only five of us can see them. We’ve been given a sort of pen to kill them off with it. There are predictable waves when they come. Everyone can see them then, and the fighting begins. The blood bath is brutal and gruesome. I remember biting at the rubbery throat of a goblin, tearing away chunks of flesh. The pens are hardly used.

       The battle only lasts a few minutes before the goblins disappear once more to the god blessed eye. Evidence of death and gore vanish, too. Then everyone but I and a new set of four others forget the panic and what a goblin even was. I would always be the one to warn the new comrades to not tell anyone of goblin existence. I had made this mistake before; it had taken me six days to get my grandmother back.

       “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry,” I cried as I held her close. Confused, she gave an unsure hug. “It’s alright, dear, all is forgiven,” she had said, continuing along her walk when she pulled away. She couldn’t see them, but I did. Goblins by the many trailed after her, watching her, stalking her; waiting for the next prepared wave. Most glanced at me. They grinned widely. Wickedly. Knowingly.

       I couldn’t save her this time. Or anyone.

       + One goblin encounter: vanishing

       + Two: lose the memories, or death

       + Three: brought back home if not killed — leaving those you left in anguish

+ Four: becoming one of the few (always four) damned into forever seeing them until the next wave

       I’ve encountered five.

+ Five: seeing them for the rest of my life, to fight but never die, to suffer others fade away