The Decameron 2.0

Day 2.3 Betrayal - THE SIXTH NJGreenfield

"The moon is round, but not all the time," the thinker announced.

"And we can gaze upon it with our lovers," the lover agreed.

"Or write a poem to capture its magnificence," professed the muse.

"Or let it fall and crush us whole," whispered the darkness.

The girl closed her eyes, trying to recall how she had become so lost, what had driven her to listen to the five and seek that which she had been warned not to find.

The snap of a twig caught her attention, her eyes opening to reveal that she was alone, truly alone, the clearing in the wood an empty expanse that yawned around her.

"Hello!" she called out, wishing the five would return, their voices better than the silence.

Again the snap of a twig, this time accompanied by the rustle of leaves that warned of someone lurking in the shadows, night taking the place of day amid the flesh and ribs of the trees.

A form, a person or an animal, something living and wretched with hunger.

It grew like a cloud of black steam until it entered the clearing on padded paws and stood before her, its jaw fixed in a smile that radiated sullen wickedness.

"Egad!" the creature exclaimed, the word thick and rich upon a swollen tongue encased in black gums. "What do I find before me?"

"Who are you?" the girl demanded, falling backwards as the creature showed little regard for personal space.

Circling, its thick, stinking fur brushed against her shaking arms and shivering legs. The creature stopped an inch from her eyes, its sly smile set at an angle which meant only one yellow eye could regard the glistening trails of her tears.

"I heard you," it began, its voice like fingers upon wet sand. "You were talking to yourself."

The girl shook her head. "I was talking to the five," she explained, the terror in her tone causing each word to tumble from her lips.

The creature looked down as if expecting to find the scattered remains of fallen letters at its feet.

"The five?" it asked.

The little girl nodded. "Where there is one, there is five."

Taking a step back, she held hands under her chin and fluttered her eyelids. "The lover, she sees hearts in everything and fires arrows into those she wishes to keep."

"Arrows?" the creature asked, watching the girl with a yellow eye, its lips kept moist from a tongue that whipped each vowel into shape.

The girl adopted the pose of a boxer. "The fighter, he wishes to watch the world burn, for you cannot be a champion unless the rest are fit to lose."

"Wise words," the creature nodded.

The girl was now seated, her chin upon a fist as she held a palm to her brow.

"The thinker," she continued. "She knows everything and can solve any riddle."

Before the creature could say anything further, the girl span on one foot and sang in a clear voice: "The muse can make a song out of the darkest day."

"And the fifth?" the creature asked.

The girl stood still, the clearing encased in black as a cloud passed before the bright, white moon.

"The darkness," she whispered. "It lives for darkness and death."

The creature smiled. "Perhaps I too am such darkness," it purred, its jaw opening to reveal silver teeth like a thousand knives guarding a swollen tongue.

The girl, realizing too late what kind of being this was, had only a moment in which to scream before the creature stretched its jaws and swallowed her whole, her cries nothing more than muffled murmurs as it sank into the shadows of the trees.

"Egad, egad!" the lover declared. "How shall our prince find us in here!"

"A knife, I need a knife!" the fighter announced, dancing on the spot with fists raised and ready despite the damp darkness of the creature's stomach.

"And so we sail into the distant unknown," the muse professed before the darkness took up the tone.

"And unto death, the wind has blown."

The little girl, too terrified to cry, turned to the thinker and pleaded with her for help.

"By all accounts," the wise one began. "We should be already dead."

The little girl waited, but the five had fallen silent, none able to offer anything more than the memory of why she had left the safe bosom of her family home - the five seeking sustenance to ensure their survival.

The lover needed a rescue, the fighter a fight. The muse sought inspiration and the thinker a difficulty to ponder. As for the darkness, well, the darkness had found that which it had wished to find.

"If only there were one more," the girl cried to herself. "A sixth who wished to be me and not another."

As if in answer to her prayer, she saw a glinting light from deep in the darkness of the creature's belly, a shimmering form like the sun upon the surface of a lake.

Approaching, she was amazed to find the contents of someone's tiny bedroom, an empty bed surrounding a jumble of miniature furniture as if the creature had feasted upon a child's dollhouse prior to consuming her.

On a tiny vanity there stood a tiny mirror, it being that which had offered the glint of light.

"What did she see?" the girl asked, the woman's smile accompanying the placement of the book upon the table beside the bed, she then reaching over to tuck the duvet around the girl.

Wind rattled the frame of the window as the shadows of the trees swayed and the girl clutched the five soft toys that inspired every story the woman ever wrote.

"Well, that will have to wait," she replied, her short hair tickling the cheeks of the child as she leaned over to kiss her goodnight. "Now sleep, and don't let the nightmares betray your dreams."

Darkness turned the furniture of the room into shifting shapes as the girl listened to the fading footsteps of the woman.

Rising, she placed the lover, the muse, the fighter, the thinker and the darkness into a small backpack before peering outside, a separate bag hanging from her shoulder, ready to house the sixth she knew to be waiting.

"Don't betray your dreams," the girl whispered to herself, the voices of the five masking the crack of the window as the wind swept away the remnants of her childhood.

The End