The Collector of Remarkable Stories Read online

Page 7


  The streets of Limbuss were fairly empty. Once or twice they passed someone scurrying to or from somewhere, but both parties kept their heads down, eyes to the floor. No one had time to stop and chat, it was too dangerous. Rumours abounded of people just being plucked from the streets, disappearing, never to be found and the likely cause was the city’s general, The Great Torquere. The Great Torquere and his henchmen had swarmed the city one night, out of the blue, like a plague of locusts. At first Limbuss was a vibrant bustling city filled with the heady aroma of promise. The next thing we knew, it was stripped of its colour and life – the city was suddenly run like a prison camp, no one could come or go without permission. The Great Torquere wanted to know everything. He put ears everywhere. It was like a great shadow had descended and blocked out the sun. And it wasn’t long after his arrival that the Dog Beasts – his foot soldiers that patrolled the streets – were created and the people started to disappear.

  "Look," said Spider Beast, referring at a poster. "That’s the seventh one I’ve seen in the past ten minutes."

  Margie and The Giant stopped and looked at the poster which displayed the headline:

  Déjà vu Epidemic Sweeps City: information needed.

  "What do you suppose it means?" asked Margie.

  "I ain't got a clue," said The Giant, "I don't even know what deva ju is."

  "It’s déjà vu," said Spider Beast. "It’s just a feeling. Like when you visit somewhere for the first time and find it eerily familiar or when you’ve been having a conversation with a friend and you suddenly get the feeling you’ve had the exact same conversation before even though you know you haven’t. That’s déjà vu. It means ‘already seen'. It's not contagious."

  "Why is there an epidemic if it’s not contagious?" asked Margie.

  Spider Beast looked weary. "I don’t know," he said, "but I don’t like the sound of it. Maybe Torquere is up to his old tricks again. He likes to play mind games."

  After several hours of walking through the quiet, hollow streets Margie caught her first glimpse of Bellamy La Bouche’s house. With its gothic style spires and towers it stood incongruously between two dull looking tower blocks, its black twisted towers rising up ominously like a great tumour on the landscape.

  As they neared the house, they could clearly see that above the door, which itself was ten feet high, were two wooden gargoyles. Part reptile, part monkey, their demonic faces stared down, their bony bodies crouched as if ready to pounce.

  They hadn't even reached the doorstep before Bellamy La Bouche opened the door. He had long white dreadlocks that looked like stalactites, pink eyes and his skin was so pale and translucent it resembled fungus ripened cheese. La Bouche seemed distracted when he opened the door. Not at all like the exotic, larger than life magician Spider Beast had described.

  He waved them through with barely a smile and marched on ahead of them. The Giant and Margie following closely behind.

  The house, so small on the outside, seemed a hundred times bigger on the inside. A jumble of twists and turns, dead ends, false doors and staircases that refused to go anywhere. It was a labyrinth of hallways that lead neither up nor down, or forward or backward.

  "To confuse the spirits . . ." said La Bouche noting the astonished expressions on The Giant and Margie's faces.

  "Where's the spider?" he asked. The Giant pointed to the cage.

  La Bouche raised an eyebrow.

  "Quite!" grumbled Spider Beast.

  "Right, right, come on in," he said virtually dragging The Giant and Margie in through the door. "I can’t stop," he said waving a round-bottomed flask around. "If I stop now I’ll have to start again from scratch. And I’ve already done that about … well, I’ve lost count of the number of times."

  "What are you doing?" asked Margie following La Bouche into a small cosy library which was filled with thousands of books and a variety of stuffed animals from bears, tigers and small gazelle to owls, foxes and badgers. "I’ve been trying to do this hex for over a day now and …" he paused, "it’s that blasted déjà vu epidemic. It’s making my life very hard indeed. I don’t know from one minute to the next what’s real and what isn’t. What I’ve done and what I haven’t done. When I’m thinking about doing something I get the feeling it’s already been done so I don’t know if I have done it or if it’s just a bit of déjà vu. And I have an overwhelming feeling that I’ve lost something. That something’s missing. Ah, it could be old age I supposed."

  "Look," interrupted The Giant looking around excitedly, "it's just like being at the zoo!"

  "Well," said Spider Beast to La Bouche, "we have something that might just take your mind off that for a moment or two."

  Spider Beast pointed at Margie who was busy looking at the leather bound books on La Bouche’s book case.

  "I’m sure I’ve seen her somewhere before," said La Bouche. "What’s your name child?"

  "No, no," snapped Spider Beast, "you haven’t met her before."

  "Haven't I? I could have sworn ... a poster maybe?"

  Spider Beast beckoned Margie over. "Show him your back," he said.

  "I’m not showing my back to anyone," protested Margie. She looked at La Bouche with great suspicion.

  "Look," snapped Spider Beast. "We’ve just put ourselves in the gravest danger to bring you here. Why? So we can help you. The least you can do is …"

  SMASH!

  Spider Beast was interrupted by the sound of La Bouche's round-bottomed beaker hitting the ground. La Bouche himself was standing rigid, as though he had just seen a ghost.

  "There’s something in the room with us," he warned.

  "What do you mean there’s something in the room with us," asked Spider Beast. "There are lots of things in the room with us!"

  "No," he whispered, sniffing the air nervously as though trying to catch the scent of something. "It’s something you can’t see or hear; something you can’t touch; something you can’t even imagine …"

  "How do he know if he ain't able to see it or smell it or hear it," whispered The Giant to Margie.

  "Oh my!" gasped La Bouche.

  "WHAT?" asked Spider Beast. "You’re making me nervous!"

  "It’s her," he said pointing at Margie. "She’s got the Devil in her.

  The Giant and Spider Beast both laughed. Margie frowned.

  "Not funny," she fumed.

  "I’m not being funny. Far from it," he said stepping backwards whilst regarding her with caution. "Just exactly who are you?"

  "That’s what we’re trying to figure out," said Spider Beast looking slightly relieved that La Bouche was finally back on track. "Anyway, the reason we're here is because there's something very unusual occurring on her back."

  La Bouche remained motionless.

  "It's okay, she ain't going to bite," said The Giant.

  La Bouche shifted a couple of inches closer to Margie but stopped suddenly, his eyes bulging and his face contorted as though an invisible hand had gripped his neck. He quickly took a step back. "I’ve never felt anything like it," he gasped. "I can’t get near her."

  La Bouche had never been so afraid and he had seen some pretty scary things in his time – a necklace made from shrunken heads, a three headed cow, a child with skin like the bark of a tree, a shower of frogs falling from the sky. But this was altogether different. This was a huge, dark, oppressive force that seemed to compress him, as though he was carrying a huge weight about him. It was more than just a shadow in the corner of the room, or the low rumbling sound like an earthquake far below ground. It was more than the bile he felt rising in the back of his throat or the terror that made his hands shake and his stomach churn.

  La Bouche felt something touch his knee and he cried out suddenly as if startled by a bang in the night. He quickly realized it was the knot on the end of his belt hanging down and tapping his knee.

  Margie was beginning to feel frightened of La Bouche’s strange behaviour and moved closer to The Giant.

  "He's scar
ed of you," whispered The Giant.

  "We think she may be sick," said Spider Beast. "Her skin is cold in parts and warm in others."

  "Not jus' cold," said The Giant, "… like ice. Touch it with your finger and your finger turns to ice."

  La Bouche shook his head. "It’s not good," he said. "I can’t even advise you. All I know is that there’s an evil presence and it’s around the girl. It’s bigger than anything I’ve come across before. She's brought it with her from the other side; the result of something she did before she came here; the consequence of something wicked. Whatever she did, it's created a monster."

  The Giant and Spider Beast looked at Margie with awe and astonishment.

  "Something wicked ..." repeated The Giant.

  "Like Murder?" asked Spider Beast.

  "Worse!" replied La Bouche. "Much worse."

  "Stop it," cried Margie. "All of you. I'm tired of all this. I'm not the Collector and I'm not evil. This is stupid. You've got it all wrong. All of it!"

  "Déjà vu," said La Bouche and Spider Beast at almost the same moment. La Bouche sighed and smacked his head with his fist as though trying to dislodge whatever it was that was causing the strange and recurring feelings of déjà vu.

  "You don’t suppose she’s possessed do you?" asked Spider Beast.

  La Bouche shook his head as though trying to shake a cobweb out of his ear. "No," he said. "It would be a quick fix if she was possessed. There's nothing I can do for her. Nothing at all. This 'thing' she carries with her is a danger to us all."

  "How can it be worse than being possessed?" asked Spider Beast. "You’re being hysterical now. "

  La Bouche rifled through some books on his desk, eventually pulling out a small red book which he opened on a page with its corner turned over. "I do this a lot," he said, before clearing his throat and commencing his interrogation:

  "Margie, do you feel like someone or something else is controlling you?"

  "No."

  "Do you feel like someone or something is forcing you to do certain acts against your will?"

  "No."

  "Have you felt something touch you, scratch you, or otherwise attack you?"

  "No."

  "Have you heard voices in your head that are commanding you to do something you don’t want to do?"

  "No."

  "Has your personality changed recently?"

  "No."

  "Are you comfortable touching or holding religious or spiritual items?"

  "Not sure" said Margie.

  La Bouche reached out nervously and before Margie could object, placed a small silver crucifix against her forehead.

  Silence.

  Margie scowled.

  "That would be a no then," said La Bouche relieved not to have had his hand bitten off or worse. "You see," he announced "she’s clearly not possessed. Now can you please leave?"

  "We can't leave until you tell us what we can do about this. It's vitally important."

  La Bouche sat down at a large table with feet carved in the shape of great lions feet and closed his eyes for several minutes thinking, thinking, thinking. He eventually shook his head. "I can’t help you," he said. "It’s impossible for me to think clearly with her in the room."

  "Fine," spat Margie. "I’ll be waiting outside."

  With Margie out of the room, La Bouche beckoned The Giant and Spider Beast to move closer.

  "You have to get rid of her," he whispered. "She’s evil. You have no idea the power she holds. I’ve never felt anything like it; it’s so heavy in the air I can barely breathe. It hangs over her like a great dark cloak sucking the energy out of us all – you, me, the walls, everything in this room."

  "There ain't no such evil in that girl. She's right; you's just a mean old fraud."

  "No, you’re wrong," argued La Bouche. "You have no idea what you’re playing with. The energy that surrounds her is one of all things bad; it's a beast and it will devour you. It will devour us all. It's the pain, anguish, sorrow and pain of millions of people that has created this entity. Whatever she did is just beyond comprehension. I just can't imagine but she has born the fruit and brought it with her. We're all in danger."

  "And supposing she is as evil as you say," said Spider Beast feeling mildly annoyed, "what exactly do you advise we do with her?"

  La Bouche fixed Spider Beast with a stare. "You have to get rid of her," he said. "Anything. Just get rid of her. And quickly."

  As he said this, he caught glimpse of a shadow moving across the room behind The Giant and Spider Beast and then a gentle breeze down the back of his neck ... a freezing cold breeze that almost throttled him with its grip.

  Outside the room, Margie found herself in a great wooden hall with balconies overlooking the room and bridges that linked them. She quickly realised she was on a balcony two floors up but could count another six floors above her. She’d never seen such a vast open space in a house before. The doors and balconies and stairways that stretched across from one side the other like bridges seemed at odds with each other. The more she studied them, the more improbable it seemed. Like one big optical illusion. A stairway that started ascending at one side seemed to be descending by the time it reached the other side.

  What on earth would he be hiding in that room, she thought, that was so sacred he would make it so difficult to get to? Feeling tired after the long walk and still feeling emotional from the tumultuous meeting with La Bouche, she sat on the floor and leant her head against the door. No sooner had she done so than she heard Spider Beast asking La Bouche what he should do with her and La Bouche’s reply: "You have to get rid of her ... Be quick. You don't have much time. Just do it, I beg you."

  Margie let out a quiet sob and sat bolt upright. Had she really just heard that? Was La Bouche suggesting that The Giant and Spider Beast really get rid of her? Margie was horrified. If she knew the way out of this house she would have run away there and then. How could The Giant and Spider Beast have allowed it to come to this? She thought they were her friends. How could she trust them now?

  Back in the library, La Bouche was unable to open his mouth which had been 'sewn' shut by a thick cobweb like material. La Bouche clawed desperately at the web in an attempt to speak whilst The Giant looked on in shock. For a moment, Spider Beast thought he could see a hint of genuine fear in La Bouche’s eyes.

  "This is a warning to you to keep your mouth shut," said Spider Beast, clearly infuriated. "If news of our visit gets out I will return and show you what else I'm capable of. Show us the way out and we’ll pay you for your time."

  La Bouche pointed to a great oak door in one corner of the room just as Margie re-entered. Too embroiled in her own angry feelings, she failed to see Bellamy La Bouche sitting at his desk bound and gagged like a giant fly on a spider's web. "I want to go home," she said frostily. "Now."

  As the three of them left Bellamy La Bouche’s house, Spider Beast guessed why Margie was in a bad mood. "That’s what happens when you eavesdrop," he said. "You only get half a story which is exactly what you have right now. Half a story."

  Margie wasn’t listening. She had a strange feeling stirring inside her; an ominous and foreboding twisting and turning inside her gut. Something that was telling her that something wasn’t right. She stopped and looked behind her. A little way down the street she could see a small child sitting outside a shop. Tying his shoe lace, he pulled tightly and the lace snapped in his hand. Margie shook her head, as if to shake the eerie feeling out of herself, then continued following The Giant and Spider Beast. Her plan was to get some provisions from the Emporium then get as far away from everyone and everything as possible. She didn’t trust anyone now.

  La Bouche had barely heard the door slam shut when the room he was in suddenly turned icy cold. The oak door through which The Giant, Spider Beast and Margie had exited slammed shut and Bellamy La Bouche had an overwhelming feeling that he was no longer alone in the room. As he watched and waited, his heart hammering in his chest and neck
, he heard something that sounded like a sigh.

  He squirmed violently in his chair, desperately trying to make himself understood while shaking his head vehemently.

  A silence deafened him as though a supersonic boom had ripped through his head. White noise engulfed his senses and his body, for a split second pulsed with an electrical force that threw his chest out and his head back. La Bouche had no time to be scared for in that flash, he was gone. He hadn’t just disappeared; he had in fact ceased to have ever existed. And in that moment, in order to accommodate his disappearance from existence, a shift in time and space took place. Any physical reminder of La Bouche disappeared in a fraction of a second. Anybody with any knowledge of La Bouche had their memories defragmented and reassembled. All relatives and friends of La Bouche had the order of their lives rearranged, like the shifting sands that fill a hole in the beach. Within minutes the hole might as well never have existed. La Bouche too.

  No one who knew La Bouche would have any recollection of him ever having existed and certainly no idea of his sudden erasure. The only thing they would be left with was a sense of déjà vu as their memories reassembled in the new order.

  As Margie made her way along the quiet cobbled street, wondering why she was feeling so unusual, she heard a distant boom and a vibration deep inside her that made her stop for a moment.

  "What were we talking about?" she asked with a perplexed expression on her face.

  "I’m not sure," said The Giant. "But I has a strange feeling we been here before."

  Margie stopped and looked at the street ahead of her. A little way up the street she could see a small child sitting outside a shop. Tying his shoe lace, he pulled tightly and the lace snapped in his hand.

  It struck Margie, for a brief second, that she’d known this was about to happen.

  "You know," she said linking her arm through The Giant's. "I think you’re right."

  "In fact," said a horrified Spider Beast. "What on Earth are we doing out here in broad daylight?"