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by Yui
Rated: E · Chapter · Horror/Scary · #1828736
Rosewhich has been a quiet town for a long time, until a young man digs into it's history.
I am the final judge, I am judgement itself. I weigh the soul against truth, I decide your faith to my liking. -Anpuwheredjet

Rosewhich, a quiet town I really started to enjoy. No heavy traffic, only a few ten-thousand inhabitants and a rather Victorian looking, colonial building style. A few years ago, after my boss kicked me out and my beloved wife passed away; I decided to settle myself in Rosewhich. At first I was a true outsider, used to the busy city life and twenty four hour life, but before I knew it; I managed to fit in.


National happenings do not really bother this town, at least the local radio station nearly mentions national or international news. It is like Rosewhich is not part of this country, but a small country on it’s own. That is how this fine morning started, I turned on the radio, listening to the news while staring outside. Beyond my with bright red and yellow decorated window life slowly began, people headed towards their work, from their still mostly wooden homes. Twenty years ago a great fire almost destroyed half the town, yet the people keep their traditions of living in wooden housing. As some people went to work, the children and wives went to church, a tall double towered building standing at least ninety metres and rising above the entire town. It is a very decorated building, large stained glass windows, engravings of religious animals; creatures and roses.


The high priest calls himself ‘High priest of Wheredjet’, which I was told means something in the ancient language of this area, but I tend to forget unimportant things like that. I myself am not a church visitor, religion does not interest me nor does it concern me at all. These people however, wear their silver ankh like crosses every single day, proudly and highly visible. These symbols also appear on the church building, they are cross like, but with half a loop upon the horizontal bar of the cross. Talking about religion of the ’outside world’ seems to be frowned upon here, yet this also appears to be the other way round. When I visited the neighbouring town of Harmouth the other day, I was approached by a local bar customer, asking me where I lived. I was stared at with awe and disgust, as if I was a heathen in their midst. Little did I understand about these issues, until the town drunk approached me and explained it in detail. While constantly shifting his eyes from left to right he told me the stories and history of this town, along with the reason of hatred towards Rosewhich.


While slowly sipping my beer the man’s face started to become more pale than it already was, almost clear white one might say. His glassy gaze focused on me. “Do ye know about the curse lad?” he questioned. “C.. curse?” I almost spit out my beer because of such nonsense, not another town that is highly superstitious… He continued in a voice of which I thought, it was on purpose, just to scare people. “Aye, that church of theirs is cursed, over fifty years ago a foul creature took over their town, their minds! Before all that, it was a god worshipping and fearing community. Now, now they worship something worse than the devil himself.” As he was speaking, I had to try hard not to burst out in laughter or snickering, as this was utterly ridiculous, a beast taking over an entire town? Instead I nodded my head and sipped my beer. The man started to make strange gestures with his arms and hands, accompanied to the ridiculous story, making it even stranger. “It came from the desert to the north they say, during a trade cooperation of our towns had back then. Both towns thrived under this agreement as we did not have the wild life for proper meat, like they had. In exchange they would receive stone, lumber and other building materials, something our town is known for. though after a few years the meat started to taste and look different, the people delivering it seemed empty and lifeless, like zombies. Of course they send an inspector to investigate but when he returned, he was one of them; one of those zombies!” He slightly raised his voice at the end, I am guessing he’s really just trying to tell me a scary story.
I took one last sip of my beer and smiled slightly at the man. “Quite an interesting story, I will think about it on the way back.” I calmly said to the man, bowing my head slightly towards him. Such a strange meeting in such a strange town, I guess it is time to head back, hopefully I can still catch the last bus.
© Copyright 2011 Yui (yuikaya at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1828736-The-Rosewhich-Sleeper---Chapter-I