Hell Diver
Copyright 1999-2003 by Nate Leved
Beneath the busy city streets there are a
myriad of tunnels. Some are for storm
drains, some for sewer, some for cables,
and some for trains that rattle past in the
night. There are also places where the
tunnel diggers came to great abysses that
descend to great depths down into the
interior of the Earth. They say that there
is no bottom to these holes, and that they
go on forever, even to the depths of Hell.
Long ago, the wise priests would make
sacrifices unto us so that we would leave
the upper crust children alone. Even the
Druids were smart enough to do that, but
then along came the religion of the slain
god, and all that stopped. The old priests
were mostly killed under the oaks by the
Romans, but our dark hungers did not
stop for any such foolishness as a slain
god. All that mystical stuff meant nothing
to us. After that, we just took what we
wanted and let the Devil take the hind
most. The ignorant new priests had never
known of us and could never understand
what happened after Halloween when all
of those beds were empty in the morning.
Well now, I belong to a race of creatures
that have existed very nicely in those
great depths, down below the surface of
the Earth at the bottom of those holes
with those quaint names like "Devil's
Hole" and "Bottomless Pit," but we don't
think of our home as Hell. To us, it's a
very fine place of warmth and comfort.
We belong there and consider it a place
of safety. We do, however, come to the
surface now and again to fulfill our wild
cravings and attend to ancient needs.
To be sure, it is an agonizing journey, but
we consider it worth the effort when the
hunger is ripe upon us. We have been
making the trip for thousands of years,
ever since we discovered our affection
for the surface creatures who have given
us so much satisfaction. It is said that
thousands of surface people disappear off
the face of the Earth each year, but the
surface news medias seldom report such
macabre events, as they don't wish to stir
up the population.
In addition to the tunnels that the surface
creatures build for their own uses, we too
dig tunnels for our own uses. Today, we
can travel almost anywhere underground
and pop up wherever we like... Once we
were called trolls or devils, but people
don't believe in such things these days. I
suppose that It's just as well and to our
advantage. The surface people who are
left behind to morn just say that old Joe
or Mary or little Sara got up and ran off
in the middle of the night, leaving their
troubles behind them, which is in a way
true, as none who come with us ever have
any more troubles.
I have waited long, but this time, it is my
turn to bring back pungent rewards from
the surface, and I look forwards to my
evening's work with great pleasure. All
day, I have been scurrying about under
the city, popping up here and there, at
work, selecting and deciding who I'll
harvest in the dead of night at the soul
death hour. They can't hide from me!
Little kids call me the Bogey Man and
cry to their mommies that the monster is
hiding under their bed! However, most
parents never see us for we are much too
careful for that. We make use of every
dark shadow to conceal ourselves against
exposure and hold our breath when the
mothers force their young to look under
their beds with racing hearts and damp
hands. The kids never see us either until
it's too late.
Ours is the best of worlds, and we have
the freedom to please ourselves in many
ways at the expense of the unbelieving.
After all, it only takes a second to gather
up our harvest, once we are ready. I hear
the clicking of high heels as she draws
near to check her tiny one in its bed. I
arch myself between the bed rails, up
under the mattress in the shadows where
they cannot see me, even if they look. I
hold my breath now, blending in pure
anticipation and delight as soon, this
small, delightful child will be mine.
Mommy will never know what happened
to her sweetest little one. There will be
no evidence left behind, or even any trail
to follow. It will be as if the Earth had
swallowed little Jimmy up and taken him
away in the night. And they will be so
right! Sure, she will report him missing,
and their police will take a report. But
that is all. It happens all the time. In a
week or two, the whole thing will be
forgotten and spoken of no more. Lots of
kids disappear. They always have-- in
the darkness. Then, only the sobbing of
the mother will break the stillness of the
blackest of nights, but, by then, we'll be
long gone, and little Jimmy won't be
coming home-- ever.
leved
Copyright 1996-2003, Nate Leved, all rights reserved.
"May the Dark Sun light your journey."