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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1403251
a town is taken over by soul eating creatures disguised as humans, called the chal.
THE CHAL
By Meg Hughes

Children’s minds are easily influenced, but not always easily understood. At times, their childish antics are seen as foolish. At other times, they seem to have wisdom beyond their years. It is hard to tell where this comes from. None can ever know what truly happens in the mind of another, much less in the mind of a child.
Such were the thoughts of the boy’s older sister, Ellery. If any had been a child too old for their years, it was surely her. At only fourteen, she had lost her mother to an illness and had assumed the role as woman of the house. It hadn’t been ideal for a child with a mind like hers. She took up the chores as such, and left the school that had so enriched her mind. It was her deepest regret that she hadn’t grasped onto such knowledge as had been offered to her. Yet it seemed that what knowledge she had absorbed would go to waste. She simply had to be satisfied with being a mother to her younger brother.
It would never be enough for her to be a glorified storyteller and housekeeper, for that’s all it meant to be a mother. She was a source of entertainment to the child, a source of love, but it still meant nothing. She herself was only a child incapable of grasping what the word “mother” truly meant. So she held her tongue. It destroyed a small part of her to do so, but it was what she had to do. She was willing to make the sacrifice.
She sat at the end of her brother, Simon’s bed. She settled herself, ready to tell the tale that was expected of her, as her mother had done for her. Smiling at the nine-year-old as she had every night for the past five years, she delved into one of her favorite storied, the one of the Chal her mother had told her often: The Chal, the creatures of another world that haunted the human realm, waiting for their redeemer. They were those cursed to feed upon the souls of their terrified victims. It was said none that crossed their paths lived to tell the tale… and yet the tale was told. At the end of her story, she warned the sleepy child of accepting the hand of the one at the window. “Do not accept their hand, or invite them in, for if you do, your soul shall be lost and forever barred from heaven.” She made him promise before she left to her own bed. She kissed the boy on the forehead, hoping that her love for him would keep him safe from harm, as any good mother does.
*
The Chal Queen’s head fell back in laughter. Her husband smirked, taking her hand in his and raising it to his lips. Avon watched, rolling her eyes at her mother and father. She looked down upon their company, those that laughed at the thought of their leader acting as a foolish young bride, even though they’d been married for over a thousand years. Avon’s eyes watched over the crowd, waiting for him to make his appearance. No sooner had she thought it, then he appeared. He slipped in through the shadows. Avon bit her bottom lip, hoping to catch a glimpse of his face. Her mother’s champion, the fiercest Chal in their clan. He cut through the crowd stealthily, his lean form worming around those of his fellow Chal. He worked his way up to the throne on which the Queen sat, Avon’s father taking his seat at her mother’s right. Kneeling, Deccon attracted the entire clan’s collection. Standing, he demanded it. Avon held her breath in as he approached her mother. “My Lady… it is time.” The Queen, Cia, grinned widely at him, her warrior. Cia stood, green silks and rich furs rustling from their proper places. “Tonight,” she told the crowd, “We feast!” The crowd roared, breaking into long awaited celebration. It had been nearly two-score years since their last feast, and it had been too long between souls.
*
Simon never would admit to his sister that he had spent the night without sleep due to the horrors of the story she had told. He was too proud for that. He knew of her sacrifices and was old enough now to make sacrifices himself. It would bother her that her story had caused him a fitful night- and may keep her from telling him any more stories of the like. If truth be told, he enjoyed the feeling of terror her story inspired. He had been easily caught up in the plights of the children lost to the creatures, empathizing with the elders of the town. It was a good tale, and he loved a good tale.
It had pleased him to watch his sister as she told the tale. Though he had outgrown the need for bedtime stories over a year before, he couldn’t bring himself to share this with Ellery. He saw the gleam in her eyes as she too was caught up in the web the tale spun. He knew it was the only motherly duty she enjoyed. He didn’t remember what Mother was like, but he knew these stories were important to Ellery, and that the stories she told him were the same stories Mother had told her. So he was content to let her continue with the childish stories. Papa sat at the table, along with Ellery, who rose rather early to make the food. Simon sat, and thus the morning began.
Once again at bedtime, Ellery told the child the story of the Chal, and once again, he spent a sleepless night. The next night it was the same, and only the night after that did he start to sleep with ease. That morning when he rose he heard Papa speaking with Ellery in the kitchen. Normally he would have gone into the room, but something told him that this conversation was not to be interrupted by his arrival. “The third of them to go missing this week. The town is worried that there may be bandits about, or that someone is hoarding away the children. Mrs. Hartheford could swear she heard a child’s scream on her way home last night. I’ll tell you Ellery, the town’s rife with rumors.” There was a scraping sound that could only have been his sister clearing off dirty dishes. “I’m sure that nothing bad happened to them. They probably just wondered off. Children are forever doing such horrid things to their parents, causing mischief and worry. They’ll be found soon, you’ll see.” How could she have forgotten so easily? Simon was angered that she was so willing to dismiss her own tales. “We can but hope, Ellery.”
Simon stepped out from behind the wall. His sister stood over the stove, her pale skin an uneasy shade, her black hair pulled away from her green eyes. Papa had always said that she looked like Mother had. In truth, both the Weston children resembled their mother, with her pallor and eyes. The only thing they took from their father was their character. Their hair was also a gift from their mother. Their father, in comparison to their mother, was fair colored all around, blonde hair and freckles with eyes only slightly colored by blue. Simon opened his mouth furiously. Upon seeing his expression, Ellery paused, frowning. “How could you forget so easily?” he pleaded with her. “Don’t you know? You much know it is them!”
Ellery rushed over to him. Her eyes flashed in warning. “No it’s not,” she soothed him, “That’s just a story. Simon, it’s just a story.” But Papa heard the conversation, and he was not a fan of storytellers to begin with. “Who is it, Simon?” Simon looked up into his father’s pale eyes. Tears spilled across his face, terror numbing his limbs. “The Chal.” His father’s grim face turned to Ellery, “What madness have you been spouting off to the child?” His voice was sharp. Ellery flinched, falling back from her brother, “It was just one of Mother’s stories. I didn’t mean any harm by it, Papa. There wasn’t any harm.” Wesley Weston ran his hand over his face. “Just watch what you tell the child, Ellery. Children are impressionable and their imaginations run wild.” Simon’s face burned red in shame. He wasn’t a fool, but he felt foolish for having gotten so caught up in the story as to have believed in it. It tore deeply into him that his father was blaming Ellery for his mistake.
*
Deccon watched as the bodies of the three children were dropped into the pit and covered. He didn’t deserve the reverence his people wasted on him. He wasn’t a brave man, not a courageous warrior like they all thought. He stole children, and smothered them until their screams stopped. He never felt more like a coward than during those moments. These people were defenseless. It didn’t make him a hero to slaughter them like animals. He knew it a necessary evil that someone had to do. The only way to take the town was to start with the children. Then use the fear of the village to fuel the terror until a sort of madness overtook them, weakening their defenses until the Chal could feed upon their souls.
He’d been waiting his entire lifetime for the Redeemer to come, but still she hadn’t. He had become disgusted with himself, loathing every part of his being. And yet that night, he would do it again. He would watch the child struggle, the tears coming down its face. He would listen to the child’s pitiful screams. He would watch it as its fragile limbs thrashed wildly, as they ultimately gave up, and their soul passed among the Chal.
Each night, he washed the stains of a child’s blood off his clothes, his body. He was no hero. No hero could do what he had done. No warrior would play this game. Innocent blood was on his hands. It was a stain that even the rivers could not wash away. It was a necessity, but that didn’t make it right. A necessary evil is still an evil.
A figure moved in the dark. He spun, a knife in his hand, clutching at the throat of the intruder. A smile filled the face of the woman in his grasp. He dropped Avon, dipping into the bow a person of her rank required. His form, once again draped in heavy blacks, straightened. The redheaded princess nodded in acknowledgement. “You are to be relieved of your duty tonight. Fia will go out instead.” His stomach turned, but he managed a curt nod before disappearing into his tent. Avon frowned. Fia was a Chal in the form of a child, a dangerous fighter. Unlike him, she felt no remorse for her actions, felt no guilt. And, unlike him, she would joyfully bathe in the blood of an innocent that night.
*
Simon heard a scratching at his window. He drew the covers close to him. He was sure it was a figment of his imagination. But he wondered. Should he wake Ellery? No. He wouldn’t wake her because of a stupid noise. He wouldn’t subject her to their father’s scrutiny again in the morning. The scraping became a gentle tap. He heard a child’s voice, but he couldn’t make out the words.
Ellery awoke too early for it to have been an accident. She listened carefully, hearing the sound once again. Rising from her sleep, it took her a moment to recognize it. Immediately she paled. She rose, going to the nursery. Seeing her brother’s empty bed, her heart skipped a beat. “No,” she whispered breathlessly. She went over, terrified what it could mean. It was then that she caught sight of the window. It stood open. Her heart was pounding painfully, and she couldn’t breathe. She pressed her hand to her face, dampened by her tears of panic. Running over to the window, she gazed out. She saw Simon at the edge of the town, headed to the forest. By him was a child she didn’t recognize. The unknown child pranced around, skipping and dancing playfully as Simon walked as if in a trance.
“There’s still time,” she whispered. She fled from the house, not bothering to grab her cloak. “Help!” she screamed, praying that someone would hear her. “Help,” she pleaded desperately, “They have my brother! They’ve taken Simon!” She ran as fast as she could to the town’s limits. Each breath was a knife driving itself into her lungs, each step made her throbbing feet protest. She paid them no mind. The only thing that mattered was getting to her brother. “Simon!” she screamed. He didn’t hear her. She ran faster, willing herself to gain ground. She reached the edge of the town just as they disappeared into the woods. She put on a burst of speed, going in after them.
As she caught sight of them, she pushed herself on faster, grabbing her brother’s arm as she reached them. “Simon, what are you doing?” Her last bit of hope vanished as she looked at her brother. He didn’t appear to have heard, seen or felt her. He just kept walking. She stood still, her mouth opened in shock. “Simon, Simon! It’s me.” The young girl that had been leading him finally turned and saw her.
Fia frowned at the woman standing in the middle of the road. Where had she come from? Why was she here? “You!” she barked out roughly, hardly in a manner befitting the child whose face she wore. “What do you think you’re doing?” she snarled.
Ellery glared defiantly at the child. “What have you done to him?” Fia didn’t respond. Ellery shoved her. “What have you done to him?!” Fia fell to the ground. She remained there for a second. How had that human managed to off balance her? “Make him right!” the woman demanded. Tears were freely streaming down her face. “Let him go!” Fia’s eyes narrowed in irritation. The woman would not be easily dispatched. Fia let out a harsh whistle that brought Ellery to her knees.
The noise caused a splitting pain in her head. When her thoughts cleared enough for her to open her eyes, many people she didn’t recognize surrounded her. She realized that they must be like the child. They all had the same eyes. Something with them wasn’t quite right. Their eyes were empty black pits void of emotion. Their faces were a marble perfection filled with a deadly grace. A dark form stood next to the girl, his face filled with disgust. “This is why you called us? A human woman?” The man who spoke had sun-darkened skin, and dark unruly hair that curled to frame his black eyes. Those eyes were the most human she’d yet to see in the faces surrounding her. The anger that filled them caused her to shrink back into her brother’s now frozen form.
“What have you done?” she whispered meekly. The dark man looked over at her, frowning, his brow creased. The girl looked up at him. “She’s too strong. Her love for the boy is powerful, it gives her a reason to fight.” The man rolled his eyes. “Then why did you not be-spell her as well?” Ellery spat at hem. “As if I would ever take the hand of a Chal!” The space around her was silent, astonishment filling the faces of all. The man had gone pale. He looked at the girl. “How does she know of us!” he hissed at the girl. The girl was just as dumbfounded as the rest of them. The bells in the town raised their alarm above the forest.
“Quickly,” Fia yelled at him, “Do away with her!” Deccon had felt for the poor woman as soon as he’d laid eyes on her. He knew her world must be crashing around her, but there was no way to help her. She had sealed her fate, but it seemed that she had had wits enough to alert the town to the disappearance of her brother before following Fia into the forest. “You idiot,” he snarled at the child. Glancing down at the woman, he felt a stab of pity. Defiantly, she looked back up at him, prepared to die.
Ellery wouldn’t let her composure melt. She was ready for this. As much as it hurt, she would die before she let them take her brother away. She saw the image of the man standing before her, raising his sword above his head, and then the world went black.
“What did you do?” Fia raged. Deccon backed away from the unconscious woman. She intrigued him, but there was no time to think of that. “We must hurry before the town people get here.” Fia latched onto his arm. “Are you just going to let her go?” he looked back at the fallen form of the woman, who looked now more like a child. He glanced back down at the true girl-child, and turned, leading the rest away with him.
*
It was nearly a week before Ellery rose back to consciousness. When she did, it was to her father’s grim face above her. She choked beck tears. “I tried,” she whispered, “I tried to save him, but I couldn’t.” her father’s jaw tightened. He rested his hand on her head, hoping to give the girl some comfort. “I know, shhh… I know. At least you came back to me.” He attempted to smile, but it was lost in his sorrow. “How many more have gone missing?” she struggled to keep her week voice from breaking. Her father hung his head. “There are only four of us left. You, me, and the Donley brothers.” A shocked silence swept over her. “They took the rest of the children the night after you followed them. Then they started to pick off the rest of town. Only the brothers believed the stories you’d told the boy. When night falls, we’ll have to fight them off. Ellery…” his voice broke off. “I tried to get you out, but they’ve surrounded the town. We’re trapped here.”
While no one else may have known what that meant, Ellery had listened to her mother’s story over and over, and had absorbed every detail. Her blood drained from her face. “Ellery,” her father pulled at her hand, “You’re our only hope.” Ellery couldn’t think. If they had blocked off the town… that meant only one thing. At sunset, they’d attack at full force. If they wanted to live, they had to make it through the night.
*
Deccon sat in audience with Queen Cia, her husband and daughter. “You understand what this means, don’t you? This is your chance to prove your loyalties to my line.” She watched him for a reaction. “They must all be dead by sunrise.” He looked up, careful of what to say next. “And if they aren’t, my lady?” Her eyes narrowed. He wet his lips, continuing. “It will be as I have told you. The woman shows an affinity for violence and strength. It is my belief that she is the one we wait for.” The Queen snapped at him, “Nonsense.” His gaze hardened. “She is the Redeemer. You shall see.” He stood, and left the room.
Deccon had no doubts that the woman who had haunted his thoughts this past week was the Redeemer, just as he had no doubts that despite only having seen her for a moment, he felt a deep affection for her. At first he had attributed it to the soul of her brother, but no longer could he deny that the intrigue he had first felt upon seeing her had deepened.
*
Ellery watched as the sun sank. What little color her pale face had managed to hold had faded away. “It is time,” she told the remaining survivors.

A movement nearby caused Ellery to motion for them to clear the building and run past the livery. She ran, her only weapon a crude knife. Since the loss of the eldest Donley brother they had laid low, trying to move around to make them harder to find. It seemed, though, that this time, they had again moved too late. Four of the demon Chal descended upon them. She rolled out of the way of a chop meant to sever her head cleanly from her shoulders. He didn’t have time to check on her father or the younger Donley brother. Since the nightfall, she found that fighting came naturally. The moment she regained her balance, she threw herself at the demon. She blocked another blow and drove her knife furiously into the side of the beast. The beast snarled, dropping its blade in an attempt to choke her. Ignoring the pain at her throat, she drove the knife in again and again. The hold on her neck loosened, and she dropped her knife to replace it with the demon’s blade. Turning back to face her own, she found one of the other demons already dead, the other two struggling with her father. It seemed that the remaining Donley brother had already been killed.
Ellery’s vision swam red as she hacked at the demons with her blade. She caught one of them close enough to its throat to slash an artery, the blade glowing an eerie red as blood shown on the hilt. The last demon drove its own blade down at her. She just barely managed to change the direction of the sword to block the blow. The demon thrust again, Ellery pulled away, but wasn’t fast enough, the blade catching the outside of her arm. She ignored the pain and focused on her fury. Her attack became a dizzying array of blows. It took only a minute for the demon to go down. She dropped the once-again-glowing blade, and looked back for her father. He was gone. She only wasted a moment to shed her tears and pray for him. It wasn’t safe to be out in the carnage as she was. She grabbed the demon sword, and fled.
It didn’t take a block before she ran into someone. She screamed, and swung the red blade at them, putting all of her weight behind it. The demon tore it from her hands, throwing her into the wall of a nearby building. Her head cracked against it. She tasted blood in her mouth, and felt a hand at her throat. She struggled. No use. She opened her eyes to see the demon from the woods. “Ellery!” she heard her father screaming for her. The man turned his head, looking to the direction the noise had come from. He looked back at her. “Ellery,” he murmured.
It’s a pretty name, Deccon thought. He saw her misery, the tears on her face. She was just a child. She didn’t deserve this fate. He raised his gloved hand to her face, dropping the other from her throat, and wiped away the tears with his finger. She flinched, but softened against his touch. He ached for her. He could see her pain clearly, and knew he was the cause for it. “Just kill me already,” he heard her whisper.
The dark man came closer to her until she was pressed up against the wall. He frightened her. His eyes, though, when they came into her view were soft in wonder. He gazed upon her face and caressed it. “Ellery,” he whispered, “Why would I ever wish to kill you?”
He didn’t know he was going to kiss her until he did. She had filled him with warmth, with a humanity that he missed. Ellery seemed surprised, but only for a moment, then she yielded to him. Deccon heard his people shouting for him and pulled away from her. “Hide,” he told her, “You’ll be safe after dawn.” She just stared up at him. “Go!” And she ran. Ellery, he mused, her name sweet on his tongue, I will come for you.
When she felt she had reached safety, she stopped. The light had finally started to rise in the sky, but it would still be an hour until she was safe. Deccon, she thought, remembering what the others had called him. Dawn found her huddled under the stairs of the chapel, stained with dirt and blood, fear running her mind…
*
“Do not accept their hand, or invite them in, for if you do, your soul shall be lost and forever barred from heaven.” David’s mother told him as she finished the story. She made him promise before she left to her own bed. She kissed the boy on the forehead, hoping that her love for him would keep him safe from harm.
There was a tapping at the window. David sat up straight in his bed. It couldn’t be. That was just a story. There the tapping was again. David slipped out of his bed and over to the window. He opened it a crack and peered out. “You there,” he said, “What do you want?” the moon shone brightly on the face of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Black hair framed a face too pale, and black eyes looked up at him shining like the night sky. She smiled up at him. “Will you come play with me?” He shook his head. “I’m not allowed to leave the house after bedtime.” The woman pouted. “I was so hoping you would come.” The grin reappeared. “Your mother doesn’t have to know,” she whispered in excitement. He looked back into his room doubtfully. “If you don’t want to come, you don’t have to,” she said, sorrow clear in her voice. He looked back at her. Brilliant white teeth shone once more in the light of the moon. “All you have to do is take my hand. If you don’t, then I’ll leave and never come back. But if you do… we can play all night, and no one will be the wiser. Where’s the harm in that?” He smiled back at her. Where’s the harm indeed, he thought. He took her hand in his as she helped him down from the window.
*
Deccon ran his hand down her bare back. It hadn’t been long since her village, and the change was hard for her. Ellery’s sleeping form moaned softly, and pulled closer to his. She would be the Redeemer when the change was complete, and the rest of her life would be more difficult than that of most Chal. It always was when you were turned from human form, he should know. She turned restlessly. “Are you alright, my love?” he asked her. She growled lightly. “It’s not what I thought it would be.” Her voice softened. “Is it always that bad?” Deccon looked at the form of the dead boy on the floor, and kissed her forehead gently. “Always,” he confirmed, “But peace, dear. Once you become whole, you shall lead us to freedom, and never again shall we feed on them. They will be safe.” She looked down at the boy, pain in her eyes. She nuzzled against him. “At least I’m not alone.” He smiled against her hair, pulling her naked form against his own. “No,” he whispered, “You’ll always have me.”

THE END
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