The Source - The Multigenre Mashup Smackdown 2023

Memories 1

To my future self

This is the first memory we need to recall and the first removed.

We were fourteen. Mother was dying and Father was struggling to care for us all. Lauren would cry nightly, and you'd comfort her, hiding your own tears. We ate scraps and Father, starving himself, risked illness. We decided to leave and find some way to improve our situation.

Lauren had secreted food and warm clothing, going hungry while not disclosing her actions to me. Winter was looming, bringing the first frosts. We could have waited for warmer times, however our supplies would not outlast Mother.

We whispered at night, our words obscured by Mother's moans and Father's tears. Then Mother's cries ceased. Father's tears became cries themselves. She was gone.

We set off the day after he, too left us, following our beloved mother, his grief stripping him away.

In the Grimace, every sound meant danger. Each sleepless night, we huddled close, and every day we searched for food. Luckily, Mother had taught us what we could forage, unfortunately, plants and fruits were in short supply at that time of year. With days stretching between meagre meals, our strength ebbed.

Mother had also taught us what we couldn't forage. When the grumblings of an ever-empty belly bring delirium, such lessons are forgotten. Everything became edible, including the house. Her house. How much of the wooden exterior we gnawed upon before she stopped us, I cannot say. I felt I was chewing splinters for months after.

She, Clemence, was old and kindly. She gave us beds to rest and listened to us relating our story. She also cooked the most divine delicacies imaginable.

Clemence would go out early, leaving us in bed to be greeted by a breakfast that was always hot, no matter the time. Over the following days, we regained ourselves.

I was roused one night. Movement shook the drowsiness from me.

"Hello,"

"Oskar," Clemence said quietly. "I'm pleased you're awake. Can you help me?"

"Of course," I told her.

It took me time to navigate the dark room. I had followed the sound of her heavy breathing. She must have been struggling.

I found her not by her laboured breaths, but by the faint glow of her eyes. So enamoured was I by our treatment, I didn't question that light. It was completely natural.

"Can you just check in here? I've lost my oven mitts and wanted to surprise you."

Of course, I didn't question in where. I leaned in the entrance she guided me to and climbed in.

Then, light flared.

Then she growled. Then, the door slammed to the cage I had willingly entered, and the kindly façade dropped. She grew in stature. The gentle face became a vicious sneer.

I heard Lauren scream, and Clemence flung out her hand, somehow cutting off the shriek.

"Lauren," I shouted, struggling with the door.

She couldn't respond. Where her mouth had been was now an expanse of unbroken skin. I could only look on, aghast, as she clawed at it.

"Come here!"

I saw my sister resist, but another wave of a hand forced her forward. Her rigid legs kicked in turn to bring her before us.

"I've been waiting for a hearty meal," Clemence hissed. "So, Mouthless, you will starve, and your brother will have the best foods my kitchen can conjure. Understand?"

Lauren nodded, but I could see from the terror in her eyes she was no longer in control. I saw no further commands, however my sister – our sister – was now a puppet.

I won't share details of our ordeal. Nothing will be gained from the haunting of those memories. Just... dear Lauren wasted away faster than her lack of food should have allowed.

If Lauren couldn't eat then I wouldn't, but I was suddenly ravenous. I was unable to resist and had to down every morsel offered. It seemed her weight transferred to me. She was shrivelling while my clothes tightened.

Clemence watched and licked her lips.

In all of my life, I believe I had only one talent. I could make things. Bring life to inanimate objects. This tested me. Trapped in a cage, my resources were limited. The only remnants were the picked clean bones of my meals.

I don't know exactly what I made. It was spider like, but had no body and innumerable legs. I had to wait for my chance, which came at the very last moment. Clemence took great pleasure in telling us she was preparing the oven for me. As the witch leaned into the huge oven to light it, I released my creation. It scurried across the cage, then leapt onto her back. Every one of its legs jabbed into her as far as they could and it was her turn to scream.

The spell holding Lauren prisoner was broken and my sister fell forward, pushing the Clemence into the oven, slamming the door shut. Clemence started kicking at the door, but Lauren jammed it shut with an axe handle.

The spider, for I could call it nothing else, somehow free, moved to the lock of my cage, releasing me, and I scrambled out. I hurried to my sister, catching her as she collapsed, exhausted.

No. Not exhausted.

Gone.

In a rage I would never feel again, I spun the dial on the oven to maximum, then lifted Lauren up and carried her much too light body outside. The Grimace appeared less imposing than before. It was grieving with me.

I laid Lauren down and covered her with leaves. As the fire from within the oven spread, taking the cottage with it, sparks spread to Lauren's grave, turning it into a pyre.

Once, she had been a flame herself, burning brighter than anyone I'd ever known.

It's the witch I task you to remember. Find her house, if anything remans. Say goodbye to our sister, and, I'm afraid, hello to the witch.

Sincerely

Me. You. Us.

So... Oskar, our Toymaster, has hidden memories... Why did he need to write himself letters, and how were they removed? I wonder...

This chapter is based, again, on the LayethTheSmackDown Multigenre Mashup prompt. I'd originally written almost 2,000 words, but had to trim it down extensively to fit the word count. Not an easy task!

I look forward to where the prompts will take us next!