The Thankful Skull

Treats of Fairytale Roulette

As I was walking far from home one evening, I passed through a deep and flat woodland. The trees were spread wide apart from one another, with the road branching and curling between them. It had, moreover, rained heavily for three days before, so that shallow, muddy ponds covered the forest floor, and ran across the road in many places.

As I came to a cross in the curling roads, I met a tall man. He had short, bristling hair on his whole face, and wore a clean, bright red, wool coat.

"Young girl," he said to me in a voice that buzzed, "I do not meet many people traveling the road this late in the evening. Who are you?"

"My name is Audrey, sir," I said.

"And why are you out in the cooling dusk?"

I did not wish to answer. I said, "The air is fair, sir."

"What is the real reason?" he asked, seeing at once through my lie.

"I am running away from my father's house," I admitted. "But I fear that the many twists and branches in the woodland road have misdirected me."

"Zzzzz," he said. "My name is Bob. You will not reach a town before the sun sets tonight. My home sits on the only hill in these woods, not far. You may rest there until dawn."

Now although I did not like Bob's bristling hair or his buzzing voice, I did feel a chill in my blood. So I accepted his offer, and followed as he led down the labyrinth of roads.

The sun sank until it was only a pair of red, puckered lips between the trunks at the bottom of the sky. As we walked between the scummy ditch ponds, I suddenly spotted a flash of alabaster white beside the road. "Look here!" I exclaimed. "Someone's skull lies in the muddy soil."

"Zzzzz-Yes," my tall guide agreed. "That is the skull of a murderer. He was lost and died in this forest. He got what he deserved. Leave the skull alone and come along."

But my heart felt pity for the skull, filled with dirt and worms. "Even a murderer deserves a proper burial," I said. I then went to the skull and, taking a few stones from the crumbling road, stacked them over it in a small cairn. "That will serve as some resting spot, at least."

Ice crusted over the darkening ponds as we walked on through the woods.

#

A short while later we arrived at Bob's house. It sat on top of a lonely hill. The flat and wet forest canopy spread out from the hill in all directions. There were no trees on the hill itself, for the house was built of sturdy, dry logs, and short stumps surrounded it. A chimney rose from the wood-shingle roof. There were no windows, only a huge mahogany door just barely tall enough for my guide.

Bob opened the door, which creaked on its hinges. "Enter, Audrey," he said. I was shivering very much by then, so I stepped inside.

The house was dark within because there were no windows, and no candles or fire burning. It turned even darker as Bob shut the heavy door with a thump.

"Do you have any kindling?" I asked.

Bob said, "Zzzzz-I have no kindling."

I shuffled. "Well, do you have any steel?"

"Zzzz," said Bob. "I only have some very small needles, and those are made of bones."

Now this made me very uneasy. "You surely have some flints at least?" I asked.

Bob said, "No. I do not have flints."

"But how will we light a fire in your grate?" I cried. "We cannot see. Moreover, we will surely freeze to death."

I heard Bob step past me. "You should be less fragile," he said. "Your eyes will adjust to the dark in a moment. And I have many fine things you may wrap yourself in that will keep you warm through the night."

Even as he spoke, my eyes began to see colors in the dark. All along the walls were coats, shirts, pants, cloaks, scarves, socks, and hats - all in a rainbow of different hues. There were three pairs of bright emerald socks hanging over the empty fireplace. On one wall, above Bob's massive wooden bed, a velvet quilt of gold and pink patches stretched.

"How do you have so many colorful clothes?" I asked.

Bob said, "Zzzzz-I am the finest tailor for a thousand miles. The king himself wears a ruby red cloak I made with a needle and bolt."

"Your clothes look very nice," I conceded. "But still, would they not look better in the light of a warm fire?"

"Say no more of the fire." Little that I could see, still I knew from the man's growl that he was scowling. I saw him move across the room and stand beside a pile of cloth. "Come this way," he ordered.

I walked over and squinted at the dark pile. "Many of these are coats of animals I have never seen," I said.

"My needle is zzzz-magical," Bob said. "I may sew any color I wish into any fur or textile. Here," He added, raising an arm over my head to pull a large cloth hanging on the wall. "This shawl of mine will keep you warm tonight."

I wrapped the shawl around my shoulders. "It is warm and soft."

Bob said, "The blue color looks beautiful against your pale neck, zzzzz."

"I see only one bed, sir tailor," I said anxiously. "Where else is there for me to sleep?"

Bob growled. "If you will not sleep in the bed, then you must sleep on this pile of furs."

"That will do for me."

"Make yourself cozy. The nights are frigid, but your blood will be warm by dawn." And so saying, I saw his shadow move across the room and climb into the long bed. Soon his snores filled the house.

#

Hour after hour of the cold night passed. I slept only a little, and was woken often by the gigantic "ZZZZ-HOOO" snores of Bob.

After a long time I felt my body begin to warm. "Dawn must be near," I said to myself.

"Beware! Beware!" I suddenly heard a voice whisper in the dark.

I raised my head. "Who is that?" I asked. I kept my voice low so as not to wake Bob. He snored on, and seemed not to hear the voice.

"Beware! Beware! I am in the fireplace."

I climbed carefully out of the pile of fur and stepped over to the hearth. "I only see the cold grate," I said.

"Bend closer," I heard the voice call.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, wondering. "I see a face in the ashes."

"Speak quietly, young girl," warned the voice. "Else you shall wake Bob early. Time is short for you already."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "Who are you, strange face?"

"My name is Mike," said ash face. "I am the soul of the skull you buried by the road. I was NOT a murderer, though I was murdered myself. You took pity on my poor skull, so I have come to deliver you a warning. The tailor whose house you stand in is not a tailor, not a man at all, but an evil mosquito in disguise!"

"That must be why he buzzes when he speaks," I said.

Even as I spoke I heard Bob snore again: "ZZZZ-HOOO".

 "Indeed," agreed Mike. "That mosquito drained me of my own life. He plans, no doubt, to drink your own blood too, once dawn has made it warm."

I broke into tears. "Whatever shall I do?" I asked.

"First muffle your sobbing with your hands," said Mike. "You needn't despair. Though you've fallen down a deadly path, listen to my advice and all will be well with you. All you have to do is set a fire above me on the grate. When Bob awakens shortly, I will handle the rest."

"Then I am lost," I said, crying still more softly into my hands. "The mosquito man keeps neither kindling, nor steel, nor even any flint."

"Hmmmm," the face mused quietly. "That makes things more difficult. Still, you may yet be saved. All you have to do is set that fine blue shawl atop the grate. And also, when Bob awakens, and tries to drink your blood, you must say, 'Ash man, ash man, ash man neath the flue; breath in, blow hard; soot and smokeclouds, spew.'"

No sooner had he spoken these words than I saw dawn's first golden fire glowing at the jam of the heavy house door. I quickly removed the fine blue shawl and set it in a bundle over Mike's ashen face.

I did so just in time. At that moment I heard another prodigious "ZZZZ-HOOO". With a groan of timber Bob rose from his bed.

"The sun-zzzz must have risen," said he, "for I smell your blood. It is hot and ready."

By the light under the door I saw his tall shadow lurch toward me, and at the same time saw that in place of his nose there stretched a sharp black needle, more than an arm in length.

I blurted out quickly, "Ash man, ash man, ash man neath the flue; breath in, blow hard; soot and smokeclouds, spew!"

Yellow and orange light flashed suddenly across all the colorful clothes inside the house as fire flared up with a crackle in the grate. Bob held an arm over his eyes, momentarily blinded. That was not the end, for a second later a long cloud of smoke shot from the fireplace and engulfed the imposter-tailor. Bob shrieked, his buzz rising higher and higher. "zzzzzzzzZZZZZzZzZzZzZZZ!" I heard a pop, and looked to see that the tall man with bristly hair was gone. In his place there was only a small, normal-sized mosquito.

"Quickly," said Mike from the fire. "Swat him now before he gets outside."

Indeed the mosquito had immediately tried to fly for the gap beneath the heavy door. But I jumped over beside it and smacked my hands together. I felt a wet squish between them, and opened my palms to see the bug splattered on my skin.

"Oh thank you, spirit," I said feelingly. "You've surely saved me from having all my blood sucked out."

"I certainly have," agreed Mike. "Now I will leave as a smoking cloud. You must follow me out of the house and along the roads, lest you become lost once more. I shall lead you back to your house, where you would do well to tend to your chores. Think no more of wandering the woods alone."

I agreed at once with this suggestion. The ash face was as good as his word, and led me as a cloudy trail back through the trunks whence I had traveled. I was very happy to return home, and my father and mother and brother welcomed me warmly, and we lived happily together for many long years.

---

Thank you for reading. This story is a writing exercise: Fairytale Roulette. I roll tabletop dice to determine story aspects. My rolls were:

1. Fairytale Group: 5 - Supernatural Helpers (ATU 500 - 559) Note: I went with the 'Grateful Dead' type https://sites.pitt.edu/~dash/type0505.html

2. Genre: 8 - Horror

3. Structure/Form: 6 - Crosscut (two or more scenes, flipping back/forth) Note: I forgot this.

4. Characters: 4 - Adapted Characters Only (from Literature, Film, etc.)

5. (Optional) Thematic Conflict: 5 - Justice VS Forgiveness