The Hobgoblin of: Brittany Courts
By Dennis L. Siluk
July 9, 2004
Yes, I'm rewriting this from an account, fragment if you will, of a happening some twenty-years ago, for publication, because I promised a preacher friend of mine I would after telling him the story (who lost a manuscript of mine, and died thereafter, and I found it thirteen years after that). That was back in 1985, and this is one of the several events that were in the manuscript.
I looked at Cal, standing outside my doorway, he had a ghostly embrace that filled his aura, kind of a shapelessness to his face with it, or so it seemed. There was remoteness about him also, kind of oozing out of him. As I had already answered the door, and he is now standing in the outside archway of my door - I'm in the archway leaning again the side of it - I ask him: "What can I do for you?" (It is fall, 1985.) He has a bald head for his youthful face, just got married he says (as if I didn't know):
"My wife's a witch, really she is Lee, I mean she does all these - " I kind of interrupt him, his hands gesturing, and he has a robust form, about five-foot eight inches tall, several years younger than I. He looks old for his age though, perhaps, maybe - maybe he looks, looks thirty-five, but is only twenty-five.
I do look at Cal with a grave face, and it is not compassionate now, it is anything but. Why did he allow himself to marry a witch is what is going on in my mind. He had told me several months ago he was going with her, and she was practicing some necromancer, witch dances and much more, he even tried to explain to me of her - what I call mantic mutterings - fantasies and terrors and wonderments, and touches with the supernatural. He even told me one night their bed went up in the air, three feet high off the floor while they were in it, and he froze in bed, but she didn't. I had heard he got married, but why was he standing here looking at me: when you open the door to the devil, he should know better, he's not going to stand there and play house.
"I came home from work, she's gone now Lee, gone, don't know where, and the apartment is just, just cold, and clammy and I'm afraid to go back to it, I'm afraid something, or someone will kill me."
Shall I refrain from the truth I asked myself, again wanting to tell him to go and lay in his bed, and go to oblivion; but I didn't say that.
"And so you got some black magic going on over there; you know, I thought we talked about this before?"
"I think Lee, she put me in a trance and now I'm married."
"Trance (I thought now she's a sorcerer)."
"I don't know, but I can't go back there." His apartment building was right across from mine, all but two-hundred feet parallel. I could actually see his bedroom window from my kitchen window. He then invites me over to his apartment. I'm a bit apprehensive; I really have other things to do. Not sure why I was feeling that way, but I was, I was extremely so.
"Please Lee, come over, over, come over with me!" [A pause.]
"Whatever source it is I know you can hook into it, you've never had a hard time entering the transparent worlds." He was right, it was just a matter of a fixed moment, or two moments put together and I was in and out: sometimes more in than out, and afraid I might not get out, save for the fact, I had a strong faith. And so we walked over to his apartment. It kind of dawned on me the choices people make, they are like raw diamonds, you don't get a lot of big ones in your life time, but in such a case as this, this one needs to be real selective, this marrying a witch was a big diamond and a flawed one at that. But he made his choice.
At that moment, I was amused, if anything, when I got to his apartment, the wind seemed to pick up outside, just before we entered the bottom hall doorway, he lived on the third floor. A mild, almost chill crept around me, followed me like a lost shadow, right up to the doorway of Cal's apartment.
Then I put my hand on his shoulder, and he jumped, I heard it, an electric shock, it filled his body. He looked at me,
"My whole body got a live current through it."
"Let's just go inside, and talk about that later," I suggested.
He now opened the door, and as I looked through the archway, I felt and seemed to sense if not see, melting pale shadows, a mist kind of. I then caught the scent, a scent - as I moved on through the doorway into the living room - the scent of a macabre foul odor, truly there was something here I told myself.
He then took me on a quick tour of his small one bedroom apartment. I felt like an intruder, a spy, but I looked at everything. The cloths laying on the bed, the lamps, the shoes, the dressers, and the mirrors, everything you could see I looked at, clung onto with my python- bodied eyes, to see if - and what, was in it, if anything at all. I have learned such spirits, or shadows, ghosts, or demons, things from the abyss, swarm into the air and find a home, a hiding place in the most peculiar places. Fortunate for Cal, I was there, for something did circle the household.
I walked back into the living room, where I had started, where I had gotten my chills, where my tongue started to give me sensations. As we walked to the living room I said:
"I got what I came for."
"I'm really tired Lee, I hope so, I really hope so, I need to just sleep, but I'm afraid they will come to get me when I do, I'll never wake up." He looked at me as if he was in ghostland, and he was stuck. It was funny the night was actually haunting like, the moon was out full, and it was inky dark out there now, as I looked from the living room to and through Cal's bedroom, all the way out the window, I could see my apartment with the lights on; it was where my mother lived also, we lived together for many years, she was most likely in her bedroom watching T.V., it was where she was when I left.
As I looked at the large picture on the wall in the living room, it was of a lioness, strips on her, and her head seemed to come right out of the picture. Her eyes - eyes of the lion in the picture: nightshades, tomb like eyes, phantoms seemed to fly in them, as if they had a moat in them: a stagnant lake in them. Cal's fingers were twitching like mad.
"Do something Lee, just tell me!"
"Get rid of this picture."
"What?" (Pause.) "Picture?" He looked at it, and looked at it, and looked at it, then said, "Oh," he commented as if Merlin had given him light, or God himself. He looked at me,"It's in the picture, the eyes, right?" He still wasn't sure, not exactly, but I did have to point the eyes out to him again. And he stared, and stared - I had to have him blink, before he was captured into those ghoulish, eldritch-eyes.
"Just get rid of the picture," I said again. With shadows and sunken circles around his eyes, he grabbed the picture off the wall, and brought it to the hallway supply closet.
I will not leave you in suspense, Cal left that picture in the closet for a long, long time, and then got rid of it, and he did sleep that night, and to my understanding, several after that. And he did remain married to the witch, as he so called her, that being his wife of course, who would never allow him to see me again. I was not thanked thereafter, nor needed to be, it was an act of God's mercy, and his and my faith, his faith in me, and my faith in my God.
[Note for the Author only: written: 7/8/04/ taken by memory from an old manuscript of mine, not yet published.]
------------
July 9, 2004
Yes, I'm rewriting this from an account, fragment if you will, of a happening some twenty-years ago, for publication, because I promised a preacher friend of mine I would after telling him the story (who lost a manuscript of mine, and died thereafter, and I found it thirteen years after that). That was back in 1985, and this is one of the several events that were in the manuscript.
I looked at Cal, standing outside my doorway, he had a ghostly embrace that filled his aura, kind of a shapelessness to his face with it, or so it seemed. There was remoteness about him also, kind of oozing out of him. As I had already answered the door, and he is now standing in the outside archway of my door - I'm in the archway leaning again the side of it - I ask him: "What can I do for you?" (It is fall, 1985.) He has a bald head for his youthful face, just got married he says (as if I didn't know):
"My wife's a witch, really she is Lee, I mean she does all these - " I kind of interrupt him, his hands gesturing, and he has a robust form, about five-foot eight inches tall, several years younger than I. He looks old for his age though, perhaps, maybe - maybe he looks, looks thirty-five, but is only twenty-five.
I do look at Cal with a grave face, and it is not compassionate now, it is anything but. Why did he allow himself to marry a witch is what is going on in my mind. He had told me several months ago he was going with her, and she was practicing some necromancer, witch dances and much more, he even tried to explain to me of her - what I call mantic mutterings - fantasies and terrors and wonderments, and touches with the supernatural. He even told me one night their bed went up in the air, three feet high off the floor while they were in it, and he froze in bed, but she didn't. I had heard he got married, but why was he standing here looking at me: when you open the door to the devil, he should know better, he's not going to stand there and play house.
"I came home from work, she's gone now Lee, gone, don't know where, and the apartment is just, just cold, and clammy and I'm afraid to go back to it, I'm afraid something, or someone will kill me."
Shall I refrain from the truth I asked myself, again wanting to tell him to go and lay in his bed, and go to oblivion; but I didn't say that.
"And so you got some black magic going on over there; you know, I thought we talked about this before?"
"I think Lee, she put me in a trance and now I'm married."
"Trance (I thought now she's a sorcerer)."
"I don't know, but I can't go back there." His apartment building was right across from mine, all but two-hundred feet parallel. I could actually see his bedroom window from my kitchen window. He then invites me over to his apartment. I'm a bit apprehensive; I really have other things to do. Not sure why I was feeling that way, but I was, I was extremely so.
"Please Lee, come over, over, come over with me!" [A pause.]
"Whatever source it is I know you can hook into it, you've never had a hard time entering the transparent worlds." He was right, it was just a matter of a fixed moment, or two moments put together and I was in and out: sometimes more in than out, and afraid I might not get out, save for the fact, I had a strong faith. And so we walked over to his apartment. It kind of dawned on me the choices people make, they are like raw diamonds, you don't get a lot of big ones in your life time, but in such a case as this, this one needs to be real selective, this marrying a witch was a big diamond and a flawed one at that. But he made his choice.
At that moment, I was amused, if anything, when I got to his apartment, the wind seemed to pick up outside, just before we entered the bottom hall doorway, he lived on the third floor. A mild, almost chill crept around me, followed me like a lost shadow, right up to the doorway of Cal's apartment.
Then I put my hand on his shoulder, and he jumped, I heard it, an electric shock, it filled his body. He looked at me,
"My whole body got a live current through it."
"Let's just go inside, and talk about that later," I suggested.
He now opened the door, and as I looked through the archway, I felt and seemed to sense if not see, melting pale shadows, a mist kind of. I then caught the scent, a scent - as I moved on through the doorway into the living room - the scent of a macabre foul odor, truly there was something here I told myself.
He then took me on a quick tour of his small one bedroom apartment. I felt like an intruder, a spy, but I looked at everything. The cloths laying on the bed, the lamps, the shoes, the dressers, and the mirrors, everything you could see I looked at, clung onto with my python- bodied eyes, to see if - and what, was in it, if anything at all. I have learned such spirits, or shadows, ghosts, or demons, things from the abyss, swarm into the air and find a home, a hiding place in the most peculiar places. Fortunate for Cal, I was there, for something did circle the household.
I walked back into the living room, where I had started, where I had gotten my chills, where my tongue started to give me sensations. As we walked to the living room I said:
"I got what I came for."
"I'm really tired Lee, I hope so, I really hope so, I need to just sleep, but I'm afraid they will come to get me when I do, I'll never wake up." He looked at me as if he was in ghostland, and he was stuck. It was funny the night was actually haunting like, the moon was out full, and it was inky dark out there now, as I looked from the living room to and through Cal's bedroom, all the way out the window, I could see my apartment with the lights on; it was where my mother lived also, we lived together for many years, she was most likely in her bedroom watching T.V., it was where she was when I left.
As I looked at the large picture on the wall in the living room, it was of a lioness, strips on her, and her head seemed to come right out of the picture. Her eyes - eyes of the lion in the picture: nightshades, tomb like eyes, phantoms seemed to fly in them, as if they had a moat in them: a stagnant lake in them. Cal's fingers were twitching like mad.
"Do something Lee, just tell me!"
"Get rid of this picture."
"What?" (Pause.) "Picture?" He looked at it, and looked at it, and looked at it, then said, "Oh," he commented as if Merlin had given him light, or God himself. He looked at me,"It's in the picture, the eyes, right?" He still wasn't sure, not exactly, but I did have to point the eyes out to him again. And he stared, and stared - I had to have him blink, before he was captured into those ghoulish, eldritch-eyes.
"Just get rid of the picture," I said again. With shadows and sunken circles around his eyes, he grabbed the picture off the wall, and brought it to the hallway supply closet.
I will not leave you in suspense, Cal left that picture in the closet for a long, long time, and then got rid of it, and he did sleep that night, and to my understanding, several after that. And he did remain married to the witch, as he so called her, that being his wife of course, who would never allow him to see me again. I was not thanked thereafter, nor needed to be, it was an act of God's mercy, and his and my faith, his faith in me, and my faith in my God.
[Note for the Author only: written: 7/8/04/ taken by memory from an old manuscript of mine, not yet published.]
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posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 10:33 PM
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