My New Blog for Short Stories!!!

Finally here, I am going to publish my short stories on this blog as I mentioned over in Geektrospective! I have wanted an outlet to get feedback and critiques but find most amateur fiction sites to be pretentious to say the least, so here's the first. Enjoy!

Charon's Day Off

Image via Wikipedia

“Charon!” the tall thin figure of the cloaked man shouted.

A hunched dark figure in the ferry moored to the bank stirred, then spoke, “Bugger off, if you please, he’s having a break!”

Ankou shrugged and looked down at his charge, “Sorry about this,” he said “It’s never happened before, really a precedent. Hang on.” Ankou made a noise as to clear his throat, though his charge was convinced he had none, “Alright then, who in Hell are you?” Ankou’s horses tossed their heads and stamped, the old feeble one said to the young strong one, “This should be rich. I didn’t know the jobs in the afterlife came with fringe benefits. I wonder if they’ve started a union?”, Now raising his voice to the ferryman, “Oi! Have you lot started a union or sumfink? How much is dues!”

“Do shut up Past, you are scaring our young friend here. I am quite sorry. Now who in Hell are you boatman!”

“Well, as for in Hell, I am known as Naberius,” He turned then, showing the appearance of a man sized black crane with flaming red eyes, “but they don’t like me much anymore, not after that Johann Weir fellow and his goings on. “Valiant” who ever heard of a “valiant” demon. Anyhow, I had nothing better to do so I told Charon to have a bit of a sit down. You need passage? Acheron this way,” He pointed left, “Styx that way,” He pointed right, “Though I could have that backwards...”

“You shoulda written it down shouldn’t ya!” Yelled Present, the dumber but younger and sturdier looking of the horses.

“Yes, I suppose I should have just pulled my ball point out of my trouser pocked and scribbled it on a take out receipt I found in my wallet.” The demon retorted with a scoff.

“Why not, then.” Said Past, confused as usual.

“Shut up you half witted horse. When will Charon be getting back?” said Ankou.

“Can’t be more than a century or so, old fellow. He has charges wandering the shore that’ll want taking over.” Said Naberius.

“A century. Really.” The charge of Death finally spoke.

“Not that long really. Chin up. I’ll have to be along. I have a five o’clock drowning, a five fifteen suicide, and a tanker explosion at half past. It’s already five of, so I must be on my way.” Ankou said; locking his large wicked-looking scythe into place at the side of the coach his horses drew.

“Wait. Can’t this guy take me? I’ve been a good man. I’ve done many great things. I’m a philanthropist for Christ sakes!!! I am looking forward to my just reward! I’ve spent my whole life buying it!” said the Charge

“I suppose, if you want, though he’s not sure of the way. If you have been such a great man, just wait a bit, have a sit down, chat with some of the poor wayward souls on this side of the river. Trust me; you don’t want to be taken the wrong way. I’ve seen the ‘wrong way’.” It seemed Ankou’s dry bleach-white bones rattled in a small shudder.

“I don’t want to wait here in purgatory with people who aren’t sure of themselves, or the poor that couldn’t afford proper burial. I am OWED something!” Said the charge.

“Suit yourself... Neberius! Neberius, old chap would you care to take this man to his just reward?”

“I would do my damnedest,” Neberius snickered, “Damnedest, get it.” If purgatory had crickets they were very audible at that moment. “Ahem, I say, of course I don’t know the way at all, so it’s a bit of a crapshoot.”

“I don’t care. I want to get away from this wretched place! All the paupers milling about. Really!” said the charge with a raise of his nostril as he hurried to board the ferry, making a wide birth around any wayward soul that crossed within ten feet of his path.

“Alright then. You’ve taken your fate into your own hands. You’ve made your choice. May you find your reward.” Ankou said as he swung himself into his driver’s seat and grasped the reins that, by the by, looked as if they were made from catgut, or peoplegut... “Get on you brigands; we have to be in Surrey in two minutes.” With that he lashed the reins once and was gone before the leathery “crack” died away.

“Right then, left or right sir?” Said the demon known as Neberius.

“Right. For that’s what I’ve done by the poor wretched and unfortunate of the world. Bought them blankets, second had mind,” Neberius nodded as the Charge spoke, “Fed them, broth and bread, and given them places to stay, provided they work in my shops making lovely designer clothes. I’ve been a great man!”

“I’m sure you have as well,” said Neberius, “I’m sure you have.”

A while passed, and the boat began to slow in front of a set of gates. The gates seemed to be made from human bone and skulls, and the gatekeeper was large and naked with soot colored skin. His horrifically plump yet muscled body was furred from nose to crotch it seemed, and his large flaccid penis was only dwarfed by the spear he held, which seemed to be on fire.

“Your stop, I believe.” Said Neberius.

“Those gates don’t look very pearly, and he doesn’t look much like Saint Peter...” said the Charge.

“I suppose not.” Said the crane-demon “Well, please return your trays to their upright position, thank you for riding Afterlife Ferry Service. Enjoy your just rewards.”

As the Charge walked up to the gates, the keeper quickly and matter-of-factly impaled him upon the burning spear, said in a voice at once like a scream and a growl, “Welcome to your eternal Just Reward!” and just as nonchalantly tossed him over the gate.

As the form of the stork melted into the form of a man with an oil-stained girdle and long unkempt beard, Charon shrugged to the gatekeeper. “They always think they deserve heaven.”

“Except the ones who do.” The gate keeper replied as he wiped his spearhead on the brimstone at his feet.


Written By (myself) W.C. Banning on Friday, 17th of July, 2009, 5:37:58 PM