Nov 8

Octoberville: Ethereal Lamentations

By Aribella Lafleur

Octoberville: Ethereal Lamentations This is the second part of the story, read the first chapter here.

Gasping for air, chest heaving, lungs a burning inferno, and totally heedless of my surroundings, I lay beside the train tracks, incapacitated by violent paroxysms which seized my body. As the convulsions diminished, my soul shrank in dread from the sounds of demented laughter filling the air. I was jolted into consciousness by the depraved noise, realising in that instant, that my companions were possessed by some form of madness that had infused this land of horrors….

I was mystified as to how I had once more evaded a tragic conclusion. Roused by a superfluous burst of adrenaline, my eyesight barely cleared in time to witness my deranged comrades collapsing to the ground like marionettes released from the puppeteer’s dominating cords. No trace of the furtive black-caped rogue remained. Was he a figment of my spooked imagination, or did he have some malevolent purpose in shadowing our passage?

With my puzzled, unnerved attendants in tow, I struggled across the threshold of a ramshackle hovel, heedless of the warning signs hanging precariously from the shabby, peeling picket fence enclosing the perimeter of the creepy property.

Haunted House

Pushing open the rickety door, I was overcome by the sensation of being watched by ever-present prying eyes, like visiting the pristine residence of one’s mother-in-law. Strange flickering and shifting assaulted the edges of my vision, but when I turned all was unchanged. Leaning against the hearth to steady myself I was startled by a curious creaking and shuddering. Glancing through the flames to the origin of this commotion I found myself peeking into a hidden sanctuary of chronicles and archives, dust-covered and crumbling into antiquity.


Slightly scorched, I gaped in awe at the great store of sinister knowledge now in front of me, until I realised my team had continued into the darkened passageways beyond. I followed hesitantly, unearthly whispers swirling over me as decades of arachnoids’ threads attached themselves to my exposed skin.

Stumbling blindly through the darkened corridors in pursuit, calling out to my cohorts, my howl resembling a toddler in the throes of a tantrum, I staggered into rooms filled with torture devices which were still encrusted with the blood of hapless victims. Caught in an unyielding cage, I was obliged to rely on the felonious skills of my delinquent crew to secure my liberation. In retrospect, however, the barred enclosure may have proven safer quarters…


Drifting through a maze of never-ending and indistinguishable rooms for countless hours, we became irritable and cantankerous, saved only from a violent and macabre bloodbath by a lucky break, as someone chanced upon the exit.


The interminable strain proved too great for one of my followers, who swooned like a wallflower finally asked to dance. We laid him to rest in a convenient sarcophagus, but he stubbornly refused to die quietly…


We walked for what seemed like an eternity due to the petulant whining surrounding me, which became increasingly more difficult to ignore. Stepping into the lavishly decorated, yet incongruous, boudoir of some forgotten princess, I felt a chill descend upon the room and heard murmurs like the breeze whispering serenades to a lost lover.

Our convoluted passage led abruptly to a locked vault, which, when cracked, revealed a horrifying blood-soaked chamber, complete with a spinning mincing contraption set into the floor. The stench of fear pervaded the site like the smell of socks in a men’s locker room.


Wherever we went the omnipresent sense of intangible scrutiny dogged us…


A succession of unfortunate incidents followed, some too gruesome and disturbing to retell. Upon returning to the library, I penned a cursory account of our tale, before the horror of the events caused them to slip like mercury through the fissures of my brittle mind.


The paranormal assault intensified yet again, with cries of enraged poltergeists, hungry as the winter, provoking our harried departure.
Tumbling out from the abode of the damned like a troupe of circus clowns, we streaked away from the sentient structure, not halting until we reached the relative safety of a covered bridge.


Lost, and covered with grime, we wandered despondently through parched, rustling cornfields. Climbing aboard a hay cart attached to a shiny, red tractor, we sank back onto the wooden railings, spent and shattered.
The possessed tractor unexpectedly lurched forward, lunging at my miserly vassal who had disembarked to pick up a shiny coin he found in the chaff.


Hastily dismounting the rolling and heaving vehicle, my petrified cronies dragged me to the security of a nearby cottage, where, after bolting and barricading the door, we slid into a weary, anaesthetized oblivion…


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Copy and images (c) 2007, Aribella Lafleur. All Rights Reserved.
Produced with the editorial assistance of Must Packbiers.

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2 Comments so far

  1. Eppie hock November 9th, 2007 10:12 am

    Octoberville!! yes…that is definately one of my most favourite hangouts!! It is very cool build…loved the haunted house but the town itself is terrific as well. I visit the Drive-In theatre when they show cool horror movies!

  2. Stone Culdesac November 9th, 2007 2:25 pm

    Now I know I will have to check this out, do they post when and what they are playing?

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