Children of the Wraith

It is a common practice for writers to keep their finished work and reread it in a week or two, but against a sound judgment, I have decided to post it here without storing it first and letting it age. Hey, it is not that anyone cares about this whole thing like I do.

Five days ago, I encountered a writing exercise that went like this:

The boys in the picture are marching off-- or are they? Who are they waving at? What will happen next?
Source: http://meredithsuewillis.com/writingexercises1-20.html

I found the picture intriguing, and several stories came to mind. One idea stood out, and I decided to go through with it. As usual, this idea evolved and evolved until it was unrecognizable from its original form. The result: Children of the Wraith.

I have the feeling that I rushed the story, but I also know deep down that this is the best that I could come up with. In my own opinion, I do not like what I have done. But since creative writing is subjective by nature, I would just try to find solace in the fact that someone out there might like it—provided that anyone would actually read it. That said, I think Wraith is not worthy to be submitted to "r/Nosleep" in Reddit. I will just come up with a new one.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Children of the Wraith 

A chilling gust pierces through my jacket; standing in front of me is Mount Au’gorath. This gigantic natural structure is simply breathtaking during the day, but tonight, it is completely black, a great wall of nothingness that threatens to consume everything on its path. The scenery is especially frightening because Au’gorath Village—where my fellow teachers and my students stay for the duration of the trip—is located just several meters away from the mountain.

I work as a third-grade teacher in Prowessbound Primary School for Boys, and we are currently on a school trip. The village’s nipa huts are nothing compared to the gigantic beast standing over them. Not even the tallest man-made structure here—that is, the stone church dedicated to Au’gorath the Spirit—can steal one’s attention away from the hypnotizing mountain. Rich in greenery, its smooth surface goes way above the clouds, and if this trip was not part of the job, I would have hiked to the summit already. However, its heavenly peak is not the most fascinating part; on its slope about six-hundred feet above ground level rests a small crater devoid of plant life. It is the only part of the mountain that is brown and bald, forming a C-shape on it like a wart. When we visited there as a part of the tour, I remembered having to make a full motion of my head to see the entirety of the place. But from where I am standing right now, it looks minuscule and significant. I would assume that that spot was hit by a small meteor ages ago, but Victor, the village chief, told me that Au’gorath herself chose that area as her dwelling.

I never believed in mystical beings, but today, I have been considering it. I bumped an urn when we were touring the Church of Au’gorath. The villagers were furious, telling me that it was molded by their chief, and that desecrating their Mother would have dire consequences. I was so shocked that I could not speak, but when Victor told them that what happened was the Wraith’s will, they stopped reprimanding me.

No, everybody from the village stopped acknowledging me.

An earthquake occurred when we were touring the crater. Understandably, everyone panicked, and we could only be dumbstruck when the villagers rejoiced. “The Wraith has chosen!” they exclaimed.

I want to get out of this place.

Currently, the crater is the only part of the mountain that is visible. For some reason, the area emits a yellow light that fails to illuminate the surrounding blackness, and I do not remember the place having an electrical light source of some sort. I swear I can also hear screaming and chanting coming from there, but perhaps this is just mental exhaustion. The tour was tiresome especially because of our energetic students who were all around the place. They can be a handful sometimes, but I love them like my own children… I’m sorry, baby.

A strong poke on my shoulder jolts me back to reality. I look behind instinctively. Please do not be a ghost.

“Man, this place is creepy, Shane,” Russ says weakly. “No, no. It’s actually beautiful; its people are the ones making this a scary place.”

I shake my head. “I don’t want to anger the spirit anymore.”

“Come on, you believe that? Those famous personalities that promote this place are just in it for the money.”

Maybe he has a point, but I am sure that one’s tune would change when worshippers threaten them that their deity would be unforgiving towards them. I never watched television and have never been active online, but I did my research. Numerous successful personalities have been thanking Au’gorath for guiding them towards the “path” that is for them, and of all the statements that they have been declaring, one thing is consistent: their epiphanies occurred when they had visited here as a child. Whether it is some sort of marketing ploy or a sincere expression of gratitude and admiration, I do not care. Several religious readers have dismissed the belief in Au’gorath as paganism at best and an evil worship at worst. Debates are continuously rising in online communities, while the media has taken advantage of the popularity of this place by means of sensationalized documentaries. Personally, what is important is for my beloved students to enjoy the school trip.

“Au’rogath,” Russ continues sarcastically, “the Guiding Mother. The Master of Fates. It’s straight bull—“

“Enough, Russ. Please,” I urge. I know he means well, but I am worried that he might really trigger someone. “Thank you. I feel better now.”

He pats my head, messing my blonde hair. “How about a drink with our fellow teachers? Miss Venis bought some.”

I wrinkle my nose as a sign of rejecting him. I have always prevented him from even going through the first step of pursuing me; he simply would not want anything to do with me when he finds out the truth about me.

The smell of a delivery room invades my nose, and I close my eyes in an attempt to visualize something more pleasant.

“I want to be alone, Russ.”

As soon as he heads inside the teachers’ quarters, I notice six small figures and a tall one emerging from the part of the road where the mountain’s slope starts, flashlights in their hands. They are approaching the village in a perfect queue. Unable to decide what to do, I stand frozen. What were these people doing at the mountain this time of the night?

Only several meters away from me, they stop and aim their flashlights on my face. I shield my eyes as I hear them chanting incoherently in unison. Their voices are getting louder and louder, and it is at this point when I recognize that they are my students.

I almost step back as I open my eyes and find all of them staring at me. They seem… ecstatic. Why did they go to the mountain? More importantly, how did they manage to slip out of their rooms?

“Joel, Greg, Vince, Dylan, Sam, Spock,” I say with authority, searching for their companion. “Whom did you go with? Where is he?”

They shake their heads all together like it was rehearsed beforehand. “I want you to keep quiet, Miss Novac,” they say all at once, their voices like a choir out of tune. “You have already done much damage to these children’s destinies. Such a worthless mother shall not be around them.”

Wh… What? Why are they referring to themselves in first-person? How did they speak the same words perfectly? Where are they coming from? Destinies? Worthless mother? WORTHLESS MOTHER!?  

“Take back what you said!” I demand, my breathing laborious.

Ignoring me, they march off towards their rooms with large, cartoonish steps. I hide behind a villager’s house and cry my heart out. I am not a worthless mother. I never wanted for that to happen…

I lie powerless in a delivery room, the pain in my vagina too unbearable. My ex-husband Carl stares at me blankly.

“You killed our daughter,” he says coldly.

“She… she isn’t even out yet,” I say in-between pushing my baby out of my womb.

“You think being a teacher for children will redeem you? You are worthless.”

The masked doctor hands my small child and puts it in my arms. She is not crying. Doctor, what happened?

“Time of death: 9:51PM,” he declares matter-of-factly.

I shake my baby in vain. She is perfect. Her milk skin is beautiful, and her small body is so adorable.

But her lungs are not expanding and contracting, and her fingernails are not curling. She is dead, and everyone in the room laughs maniacally like there is a joke somewhere in my situation.

“A dream, a dream a dream a dream a dream,” I say, forcing myself to wake up. I have been in this prison for a long time to be aware that all of this is an illusion.

However, something has changed. I do not remember my ankles hurting. I look in terror as I find my feet tied with thorny vines. A masked nurse with a white hair so long that it touches the ground fidgets with the bonds with her long… claws?

“NOT AN ILLUSION; A LINGERING MEMORY.”

Her head snaps towards my direction when she realizes that I am looking at her. Deathly white eyes glare at me, and in a blur, the woman takes off her clothes and slashes her mask. Extremely thin, her elongated face is frowning in a manner that expresses disappointment.  

Wake up. For crying out loud, wake up, Shane.

With extreme speed, she hovers above me. I cannot even look away as our faces are within an inch of each other. Shaking uncontrollably, I try to push her away with my hands but find them being held by her disgusting claws.

Is this… Au’gorath?

“SPIRITS. ARE FORMLESS,” she says, her voice ghastly frail and ancient. “MANIFESTATION. REFLECTION OF THE SOUL. WHAT YOU SEE IS NOT WHAT YOU KNOW AS. AU’GORATH; WHAT YOU SEE. YOUR TRUE DESTINY.”

I want to say something, but I can only mumble due to extreme fear. She is terrifyingly hideous.

“HAHAHA. HAHAHAHAHA!” Her deafening laughter shakes the whole delivery room. “AS EXPECTED OF SOMEONE. FAULTY DESTINY. GAL’DOMAN’S WASTE. DANGEROUS MOTHER. STAY AWAY. FROM MY CHILDREN. YOU WANT ANSWERS. MEET ME AT. SANCTUARY.”

I wake up on the cold, wooden floor of my room, genuinely scared for my life. Covering my mouth to suppress my involuntary wailing, I notice that my two wrists are bruised. My ankles are covered in rope marks.

It was not just a dream.

Au’gorath, what did you mean when you said that I was a dangerous mother? I want answers. For over four years I have been searching for a reason why my baby had to die. Her sanctuary must be that crater in the mountains, but I cannot go through this alone.

Planning to go to Victor’s house, I am surprised to see him at the door of my room. Luckily for me, he goes straight to the point.

“I was chosen by the Wraith to be Her messenger,” he says solemnly, scratching his gray beard. “And I think you should know that it is your destiny to die here.”

This is some kind of a sick joke. “What!? No!” I pull his shirt. “What’s happening here!?” Why does she want me to die!?”

“Mother has already chosen six children,” he answers, possibly referring to my students whom I saw earlier this night. “Your bond with them is preventing Her from completely consuming their souls.”

I do not give a damn anymore. “Why… why is she telling me that I am a worthless mother…? I didn’t even have the chance to be one!”

“This is especially irregular. Mother is a kind spirit. I have no idea why someone has to be killed. But you don’t have to die.” He puts an arm on my shoulder. “Just sever the ties that you have with these children, and their destinies shall be fulfilled.”

I ignore him. “What… what does she look like? Au’gorath?”

“Mother has no form; she looks unique to everyone, and what she looks like depends on the soul who is looking.” He confirms Au’gorath’s remarks. “Did she show herself to you?”

I nod. “She looked… disturbing, and she said that I have a faulty destiny.”

His eyes lighten up. “I’m so sorry. I know it wasn’t your intention to hurt all the people you’ve hurt. You are merely a creation of Gal’doman.”

I slap myself repeatedly. Have I finally gone completely insane? Out of nowhere, Victor swings his walking stick towards my left temple.

I wake up with a throbbing headache. Regaining my senses, I realize that am on the mountain’s crater, and in front of me are my students who told me that I am a worthless mother. They are just standing lifelessly, all eyes fixated on me.

“Sons, have I been a terrible teacher and mother?” I wipe the tears off my cheeks.

They put their palms up at me in unison. No, it would be more accurate to refer to them as “Au’gorath”.

“NO PHYSICAL FORM. HAVE TO MANIFEST MYSELF. WHAT HUMANS CAN COMPREHEND.”

“Where are they?” I ask them, unable to hide the fear in my voice.

“SUFFERING. BECAUSE OF YOU. CANNOT COMPLETE BINDING. THEIR SOULS. BOUND WITH YOURS. MUST BE DETACHED THROUGH HATRED OR DEATH.”

If I want to be a true mother, then I must stand up for my students. “No… I love them. You call yourself a mother,” I grit my teeth, “when you’re the one making them suffer.”

“MISPLACED ARROGANCE. I AM. MASTER OF FATES. GUIDING MY CHILDREN. THEIR TRUE DESTINIES. THEIR EXALTATION. PROOF OF MY POWER. HOW DARE A MERE PAWN. QUESTION AU’GORATH. A PRIMORDIAL ENTITY.”

At this point, I somehow know that Au’gorath will not hurt me. The hideous old woman that I saw in my dreams is not her true form, if she and Victor is to be believed.

It is myself. Fear turns into pleading.

“I need an answer. Why did my child die?”

“GAL’DOMAN. ENTITY OF DISHARMONY. SCRAMBLING CHILDREN’S DESTINIES. UNIVERSE SUPPOSED TO BE PERFECT. YOUR SOUL A PRODUCT OF HIS MISDEEDS. CORRUPTED. UNFORTUNATE.”

I punch the ground as hard as I can. “You mean to say that my child is dead just because you sons-of-bitches decided that I am not fit to be a mother!? My husband left me, and my whole life is destroyed! All because of something that I can’t control!?”

“FREE WILL. ILLUSION. GRAND PICTURE. ENDLESS. YOUR CIRCUMSTANCE. MUNDANE.”

“I don’t care anymore, Au’gorath… Please give me back my students.”

“YOU ARE NOT IN A POSITION. DEMAND. WITH YOU, THEY WILL BE UNABLE TO FULFILL THEIR DESTINIES. HOWEVER, I THANK YOU. CORRUPTED SOULS USEFUL. THEY ATTRACT PURE SOULS. UNIVERSE WILL BE IN ORDER. SOMEDAY.”

“You mean…” My mouth frowns and shakes. “…they’re better off without me…?”

“EVERYONE. BETTER OFF WITHOUT CORRUPTED SOULS. THIS IS NOT ONLY. INABILITY TO BE A MOTHER; THIS IS. HAVING NO PLACE IN THE UNIVERSE.”

For years I have been tormenting myself for the death of my daughter. Everybody hated me for something that I had no control over. My husband divorced me after I showed signs of mood improvement, and my family and colleagues did nothing but judge me. I quit my job as an accountant and traveled to wherever the winds took me. It was not until two years ago when I decided to be a primary school teacher.

The death of Shaina changed me both for better and for worse. I am on a self-imposed isolation, not even chatting with my fellow teachers unless the topic is school-related. My only social interaction is when I am teaching my beloved students. Otherwise, I have lived a mechanical life, focused on one goal: to make sure that the children under my care are safe, happy, and well-rounded, just like what my stillborn daughter would have been.

I have always told myself that I would kill myself if I fail this endeavor. I just wanted to be a mother for someone, but it would seem that for some damned reason, I am destined to be a burden rather than to be a nurturer.

I step on the edge of the crater and look behind my students for the last time. “Thank you, Mother.”

And your mother is so sorry, Shaina.