A Halloween Tale

The Singeing Shadow

The kerosene lamp almost out of oil. The children gone to bed. The animals shut away.

Ah Chai surveyed the shadows outside. It was late; no light appeared from the neighbouring huts. The rain had passed leaving the air moist and the trees heavy, wet in the dark night. There was no sign of their two dogs. ‘On the prowl again, fine guard dogs they make,’ he said.  He was surprised there was no barking from the village dogs either. It was too quiet except for a faint strain of Peking Opera from someone’s radio. He tossed his cigarette stub out, a neat smouldering arc. He spat, warm, smoky. He checked the door was properly fastened for the night.

He was about to secure the tin sheet that served as the door when he felt a presence. There was something out there, in the patio. He peered around; saw nothing except the dying glow of his cigarette end beside a mud pool. But he was sure something crouched out there in the dark. He waited. It now seemed closer to the thin wall of their hut. Nervous, he said, ‘Wei?’ His hello hung heavy. He could hardly breathe. ‘Is someone out there?’ He spoke hushed. He did not want his wife to hear him. He waited awhile, frozen where he stood, heart thudding but he heard and saw nothing. He secured the door and came in.

‘What is it, Ah Chai?’ Yoke Lin, asked with some urgency in her voice. Not getting an answer she studied her husband’s face, felt more than saw his discomfort.  ‘Something wrong?’

‘Nothing, I thought I heard something. It was only the wind,’ he said.

He sat on the low bamboo stool next to her as she nursed their month-old baby. He sat pensive, he did not pick up his bowl and chopsticks to resume his meal. She looked at him closely not satisfied with his answer. He smiled, relieving her tension a little.

Meaty aroma of soup in the large boiling cauldron filled the air.

‘You were late starting. Will the soup be ready by morning?’

‘It will be ready by the time you set up, as always,’ she said. ‘The baby, she’s been too restless today.’

‘I have to wait for the new delivery of noodles before I set up the stall. Lately delivery has not been on time. The boy is getting slack.’

She turned away, stared at the embers under the cauldron of the boiling broth. The two-year-old was asleep on the mat beside her.

He looked at her puzzled. ‘What are you staring at?’

She turned to him.

‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘There is something terrible. It is as if there is something waiting to happen. I feel afraid.’

Ah Chai moved closer to his wife, her face sweat streaked glowing warm in the firelight. He put his arms around her and felt her tremble.

They heard it… a scratching. A little hesitant. They weren’t sure if the sound came from outside or from within. Yoke Lin looked up at her husband in alarm, her eyes wide, round. He felt prickling on his scalp. He now saw her fear as well, and could not hide his.

He stood up. The kerosene lamp tipped over and doused itself, only the light of the burning wood under the cauldron remained. He put his finger to his lips indicating silence. He went to the door hardly able to keep his knees from knocking. The baby whimpered. Yoke Lin went ssh not wanting to wake the two children in the next room.

Ah Chai looked back, smiled palely acknowledging her concern, lightening her fear. But she felt his panic. She felt a shiver run through her.

He pulled the flimsy barrier aside and peered out. The air clammy, the night deep. He saw no one, he saw nothing, but he knew there was somebody or something close. A sudden gush of air brushed past his legs. He slid the tin sheet across quickly. Too late!

‘It’s nothing’, he assured her, hoping she would not notice the quaking in his voice. ‘All is safe.’ He allayed her fears.

The room suddenly become chilly. A smell of ammonia, volcanic, filled the air. He looked around, confused. Yoke Lin shivered. Holding the baby tight, she dragged her other child, asleep on the matting floor, closer to her.

‘There is something here,’ she said in a tight whisper, ‘an evil presence’.

They both saw it at the same time, a shadow against the far wall. They froze not knowing the source. The shadow shaped like a tadpole with a tail, and arms moved, began to grow in size. Mesmerized they watched as it loomed before them. The shadow moved up the wall, spread large and across the roof supports. When the shadow began to come down the opposite wall it shrank man-size, no more a shadow. It morphed into a grey beast.

They did not know what it was. The beast had no legs. Its arms hung long on two sides. It stood where its tail ended, stood quivering tall. Its head moved from side to side and nodded, like a papier-mâché doll with a springy neck. Below its prominent brow its face was crunched up, its cheekbones sharply displayed. Its thick neck supporting its large head looked like thick, wound rope. The eyes were pools of slime, green within molten steel. Watching the couple, the beast, in a show of macabre power, curled its crimson lips back and let out a long eerie hiss. Firelight under the cauldron glinted off its bared razor teeth.

The couple powerless froze.

When at last Ah Chai attempted to move closer to his wife, the creature with a powerful move and with both hands grabbed the feeding baby from the wife and held her poised above its head. It looked at Ah Chai as if challenging him, compelling him to get closer. As Ah Chai leaped towards the beast it threw their baby into the boiling cauldron. Ah Chai ran towards the cauldron. With a loud snap the tail moved like a whip and wound itself around his neck while the beast balanced itself on one arm. Ah Chai struggled, thrashed about. He grabbed at the tail with both hands and tried to release the choking hold. His hands smouldered. His neck seared. As he held on to the tail the flesh on his hands melted leaving skeleton finger bones.

The man thrashed about in agony. The beast unwound its tail, slowly loosened its grip around his neck all the while keeping its gaze on Yoke Lin. She had not uttered a sound. She stood motionless, hypnotised. Her arms by her side, and baby-less. Her blouse lay open on one side revealing a breast. The beast stood there, watching her almost kindly, ready to move towards her to console her the child she’d lost, then as if changing its mind it put its head into the cauldron. They heard the beast slurp hot, heard the crunch of baby bones.

Yoke Lin fell in a faint beside their sleeping boy on the floor. Ah Chai lay where he was, writhing in agony, steam issuing from his fiery neck. As if mission completed the beast looked around. Then it bent down and looked at Yoke Lin long and loving, saw the sleeping boy beside her. It turned around and oozed its way across the floor walking on two hands and dragging its tail behind it. It made its way to the other room. With a blood-curdling scream Ah Chai tried to throw himself against the threshold of the children’s room. His scream echoed through the village unheard. Reaching out, and reaching,he lay there wildly choking. He could not do more to save their children.

The beast paid scant heed. It picked itself up and stood on its tail for a moment, it turned around surveyed the room and then fell against the cardboard door where their other two children lay sleeping. It singed a large tadpole shaped hole and went through. Disappeared into the children’s room. The edges of its shape on the cardboard door flickered and smoked.

End