Post by spiral on May 29, 2008 19:06:05 GMT -5
Evey Last Toenail
Poor Samuel. He was the hardest working farm boy you're ever likely to meet. Such a shame he didn't wake in time when the farm was burnt to the ground. But next morning, just before dawn, and just like always, Samuel got up again.
He rose from his ashes, and feeling mighty strange, gave a little shake from head to toe. He was not used to doing without a body, and all about him were flappy things, and creepy things, and slimy things, nosing and poking, making him all the more uncomfortable. All the things nobody sees by day or night in this world were there to greet him on his arrival to the gloom.
"You're dead!" hissed a voice. "Go to the graveyard and tell the Big Worm. You've got to be eaten up quick if you're ever to rest in the earth!"
Paying good heed, Samuel hurried off to the graveyard, picking his way among the black things with claws, the ghostly things with twisted faces, and the things that struggled and clawed from underfoot.
Inside the graveyard, he came to a large mound he had never noticed before. The air was fetid here, and dank, the flies that buzzed about him felt sweaty as they bashed and crawled on his skin. He brushed them away, and climbed the earth piled high before him. The imps, the pixies, the demons, the ghosts, and all the nameless things of that world left him alone as he climbed ever higher.
At the top of the mound, Samuel found the worm, coiled up like something sour oozed from something rotten. Its huge, flat, grey head curled out from where it rested and stretched forward, stopping close to Samuel's face.
"Samuel!" it said, and its breath was of rotting cabbages. "Oh good, good!" said the worm, "I was just getting hungry!"
"Please, Sir worm, if you will, eat me up, as I'm to rest in the earth now I'm dead." whimpered Samuel, looking sadly back to the graveyard where all the restless, poking, scratching things tussled.
"I'll need the rest of you Samuel." hissed the worm. "Where's your body?" it asked, its head forming into an arm and giving him a poke in the chest.
"This is me, eh, this is all of me."
"No, no, no, Samuel. How can I eat you up without your corpse? I'll need your corpse!" said the worm.
"But I have no body, I was burnt you see," Samuel explained, "I'm all ashes, well, and maybe some cinders, I suppose."
"Then you'll have to fetch what you can," said the worm, "and do it quickly! I'm hungry Samuel! Very hungry! Nobody's died since the skinny miller, and he was all but gristle, I assure you." And the worm coiled back up to where it had rested before.
So Samuel rushed off back to the ruined farmhouse and he searched and scraped and collected all the ashes he could find until he had a sack of what he thought might mostly be him. Then he made his way back to the graveyard, and climbed the mound once more to speak with the worm.
"Excuse me, oh worm, I'm back and I have my ashes." he announced to the sleeping grave worm, which prompty uncoiled and sniffed appreciatively at the sack.
"Empty it out!" hissed the worm excitedly, and Samuel did. The worm lowered its flat head and it turned the ashes over and over before rushing back up to face Samuel again. "There's a bit missing Samuel! It's no good like this, I need all of you!" it moaned, "I'm so hungry Samuel! What's missing?"
"Well, I did lose a finger last week in the plough, maybe it's that?" tried the boy.
"Yes! Good! That's it! You'll have to fetch it Samuel! Fetch your finger here for me, and we can get started putting you to rest at last." cooed the worm, coiling back up to rest once more.
So Samuel hurried off to the farm once more, found his finger was still where it had been discarded, and then he hurried back to the graveyard and climbed the mound once more to meet with the worm.
"Oh, Sir worm, I'm back, and I have my finger with me!" he announced, peering at the coiled up worm, hoping it had not tired of him yet.
The worm uncoiled, sniffed at Samuel's finger, then raised its head up close to the boy's face. "There's still something missing Samuel. What is it?" it hissed, sounding angry now.
Samuel was speechless. He couldn't think of what it could be. "Um, well, perhaps it's my toenail you're missing Sir worm. I did lose one years ago, and never found it."
"That's it!" said the worm, "You must go and fetch it Samuel!"
Poor Samuel. He hunted high and low for that toenail, but it was nowhere to be found.
Some say he can still be heard, when the world is dark and quiet, scratching, shuffling, hunting here and there for it.
You see, the worms who put us to rest in the end need all of us to get their fill. Oh yes. Every last toenail.
Poor Samuel. He was the hardest working farm boy you're ever likely to meet. Such a shame he didn't wake in time when the farm was burnt to the ground. But next morning, just before dawn, and just like always, Samuel got up again.
He rose from his ashes, and feeling mighty strange, gave a little shake from head to toe. He was not used to doing without a body, and all about him were flappy things, and creepy things, and slimy things, nosing and poking, making him all the more uncomfortable. All the things nobody sees by day or night in this world were there to greet him on his arrival to the gloom.
"You're dead!" hissed a voice. "Go to the graveyard and tell the Big Worm. You've got to be eaten up quick if you're ever to rest in the earth!"
Paying good heed, Samuel hurried off to the graveyard, picking his way among the black things with claws, the ghostly things with twisted faces, and the things that struggled and clawed from underfoot.
Inside the graveyard, he came to a large mound he had never noticed before. The air was fetid here, and dank, the flies that buzzed about him felt sweaty as they bashed and crawled on his skin. He brushed them away, and climbed the earth piled high before him. The imps, the pixies, the demons, the ghosts, and all the nameless things of that world left him alone as he climbed ever higher.
At the top of the mound, Samuel found the worm, coiled up like something sour oozed from something rotten. Its huge, flat, grey head curled out from where it rested and stretched forward, stopping close to Samuel's face.
"Samuel!" it said, and its breath was of rotting cabbages. "Oh good, good!" said the worm, "I was just getting hungry!"
"Please, Sir worm, if you will, eat me up, as I'm to rest in the earth now I'm dead." whimpered Samuel, looking sadly back to the graveyard where all the restless, poking, scratching things tussled.
"I'll need the rest of you Samuel." hissed the worm. "Where's your body?" it asked, its head forming into an arm and giving him a poke in the chest.
"This is me, eh, this is all of me."
"No, no, no, Samuel. How can I eat you up without your corpse? I'll need your corpse!" said the worm.
"But I have no body, I was burnt you see," Samuel explained, "I'm all ashes, well, and maybe some cinders, I suppose."
"Then you'll have to fetch what you can," said the worm, "and do it quickly! I'm hungry Samuel! Very hungry! Nobody's died since the skinny miller, and he was all but gristle, I assure you." And the worm coiled back up to where it had rested before.
So Samuel rushed off back to the ruined farmhouse and he searched and scraped and collected all the ashes he could find until he had a sack of what he thought might mostly be him. Then he made his way back to the graveyard, and climbed the mound once more to speak with the worm.
"Excuse me, oh worm, I'm back and I have my ashes." he announced to the sleeping grave worm, which prompty uncoiled and sniffed appreciatively at the sack.
"Empty it out!" hissed the worm excitedly, and Samuel did. The worm lowered its flat head and it turned the ashes over and over before rushing back up to face Samuel again. "There's a bit missing Samuel! It's no good like this, I need all of you!" it moaned, "I'm so hungry Samuel! What's missing?"
"Well, I did lose a finger last week in the plough, maybe it's that?" tried the boy.
"Yes! Good! That's it! You'll have to fetch it Samuel! Fetch your finger here for me, and we can get started putting you to rest at last." cooed the worm, coiling back up to rest once more.
So Samuel hurried off to the farm once more, found his finger was still where it had been discarded, and then he hurried back to the graveyard and climbed the mound once more to meet with the worm.
"Oh, Sir worm, I'm back, and I have my finger with me!" he announced, peering at the coiled up worm, hoping it had not tired of him yet.
The worm uncoiled, sniffed at Samuel's finger, then raised its head up close to the boy's face. "There's still something missing Samuel. What is it?" it hissed, sounding angry now.
Samuel was speechless. He couldn't think of what it could be. "Um, well, perhaps it's my toenail you're missing Sir worm. I did lose one years ago, and never found it."
"That's it!" said the worm, "You must go and fetch it Samuel!"
Poor Samuel. He hunted high and low for that toenail, but it was nowhere to be found.
Some say he can still be heard, when the world is dark and quiet, scratching, shuffling, hunting here and there for it.
You see, the worms who put us to rest in the end need all of us to get their fill. Oh yes. Every last toenail.