Curiosity Killed The Cat... by Yvette Hooper
Wandering through the dark dense forest, I saw a small hut. Its sides were symmetrical; all had grey stones with flecks of age imprinted upon their flat faces.
I approached the huge iron gates; thy towered above me, rusty and wild they swung to and thro in the silent, caressing breeze. I slipped through the gap where the gates lay stranded on the island of grass, waiting for the gentle wind to show them movement once more.
The hut stood there, silent, it looked as though it was watching me; intent on drinking in my every detail.
The aura of the hut was cold as a winter’s day and as unforgiving as a wasp’s sting.
I slowly crept up to the hut, circling it, preparing myself for something to jump out on me... after a while I realised I was in no danger. Relieved I finally let myself wander towards the door – still cautious. The door leant against the frame like a tired old man. I nudged the door, urging it to move. The door was like an obstinate child, refusing to move. I quickly grew impatient and shoved it with my shoulder. It moved just a fraction, encouraged I gave one last shove, it gave in and showed the primitive interior of the hut.
On the wall opposite the door was a small grate with a cluster of ashes, the smell pulled me back to memory lane. Our old house, the BBQ sending off a solitary plume of smoke; a burnt lamb chop. Above the grate was a boars head, mounted upon a peeling slab of wood. Its sorrowful gaze pierced my heart. ‘Such a waste of life’ I muttered to myself. Pivoting to my left I saw a small table, just big enough for one small person. A chair stood neatly tucked under the table, on the table was an old fashioned oil lamp. On the right side of the room was a chest of drawers and a photo of an old fashioned man; possibly Victorian or maybe even older. The photo frame was silver in its early days but now tarnished through time. The carpet was threadbare; over by the fireplace you could even see the muddy-brown floor boards. The whole hut lay under a thick carpet of dust, in some places it was even thicker than the carpet.
Outside the wind rustled the leaves and the first few drops of rain spattered against the tiny window. I came back to reality with a jolt. Slowly I wandered back out into the forest and started to make my way home. I reached home just before the sun dipped behind the houses. Mum questioned me the moment I set foot in the house, ‘where have you been?’ ‘What have you been doing?’ ‘Who were you with?’
I obediently replied: ‘In the woods’ ‘I was saving a tiny mouse’ I’m not really sure why I kept the hut to myself, I think I just wanted somewhere to go and hide where no one could find me.
Afterwards I went straight to bed. Lying snuggled up in my duvet I turned over and over in my mind the possibilities of why it was there, just randomly in the middle of a forest, maybe it was a hunters bedsit, who knows?
Throughout the whole of the next day I functioned in automatic, I just couldn’t stop thinking about the hut. After school I headed straight for the forest and its lonely track that leads to my own secret hideout. I was just approaching the hut when I heard a deep thrumming noise coming from inside.
I peered through the doorway, everything was as I had left it, even my footprints were still in the dust. I stepped once more over to the photo. The man felt strangely familiar. I searched his frozen eyes, looking for some kind of emotion. I brought my hand up to pick up the photo, but as my hand fluttered above it I felt a pulse. Again and again like a heartbeat. I stepped back in shock.
I started screaming at myself to get out, to just leave but my feet were rooted to the floor like an old oak tree. Somewhere inside I sensed something changing and morphing. I had to find out more, I never stopped to think whether I would like what I found...
Cautiously I leant forwards and picked up the photo again. It was still beating, louder this time. My eyes involuntarily looked up and back into his severe stare. I tried to pull away but I was trapped. My hand began to burn, white with heat. It surged up my arm closer to my torso. It reached my heart, every my heart would beat the pain gained intensity. Abruptly the heat started to ease and my heart rate slowed. Splitting pain tore through my leg, I dropped to the floor squirming like a pit of snakes. This is it I thought to myself, this is the end. Groaning in agony and gasping for breath I passed out.
My eyes sprung open. My legs felt stiff and as heavy as lead. I groaned and rolled over. ‘Mmmmmmmmm, where am I?’ My eyes fell into focus. All of my memories of the past twenty-four hours came flooding back to me. I was bewildered, ‘where on earth am I?’ I murmured to myself.
‘Ah, she has come round; tie her up before she comes to her senses! QUICKLY!’
I looked around nervously trying to see where the voice had come from. It appeared to have come from a tall man, skinny as a rake. He sported a big top hat and a rather fluffy handlebar moustache. He wore a shiny suit with a ruffle of lace around his old, bony neck. Piece by piece I put it all together. He was the man in the photograph!
‘Ah, my child, you are probably wondering where you are. Here’s a quick update. You are in 1764, this is a time lock, time has no meaning here, we are completely sealed off from the world, in fact they don’t even know it exists, now do you have any questions?’
During his speech I managed to compose myself and find my voice.
‘Umm, yeah, why do umm, why am I here?’
‘All in good time my child.’ He chuckled at his failure of a joke.
He left the room, his musty smell leaving with him. I felt relieved to be on my own. I must have fallen asleep again, as when I woke again light was filtering through the miniscule barred window. I rubbed at my eyes which were still heavy from sleep and took in my surroundings properly. It was a prison cell, everything grey concrete.
A few moments later the door clanged as somebody stiffly slid back the bolts. Musty man came back in. Behind him a dull looking woman wearing a starched grey dress stepped in pushing a trolley of scientific apparatus. She approached me and attached lots of wires to my neck and forearms. I was too afraid to object. The little square screens on the trolley lit up and bright lines flickered across them.
‘Fit, average, stable, should be suitable’ the dull woman read from the screen in a monotone voice.
What is she talking about?! Anger and questions bubbled up inside me like water in a boiling kettle. I exploded.
‘Whatever you are doing stop it RIGHT now! You do not have my consent for anything! LET. ME. GO!!’
‘Ooh, so I need your consent now do I?!’ he sneered.
‘Well you’re tied up so I might as well, let you into a little secret, you see I’m actually dead, yes I have been for quite a while now, the key is though I need a modern soul – that’s where you come in. Then hmmm, should I tell you? Why not, I mean there is nothing whatsoever you can do. I intend to stop the future happening!’ he laughed hysterically at the thought of all the power in his hands. My face dropped, how could he do this?!
‘Oh yes, I can and I will!’
‘How can you be so heartless, WHY?’
‘What has the future done for me? They’re going to ruin the earth anyway with global warming, why not help it along, save a bit of time!’
‘Its not possible anyway, how can you wipe out the entire human race, Hah? You can’t’
I pouted.
‘Oh it is, I assure you, don’t worry your pretty little head about it anyway, its grown-up stuff’ He patronised.
Everything from the past few hours weighed down on her like a tonne of bricks, I broke down in tears.
Up until now I had comfortable life, all I could wish for, a caring mum, the best friends ever, all my gadgets and now, all of that is lost, I will be dead.
My body tensed as I huddled there distraught and frustrated.
‘Now let’s get on with it’
I was so shocked I couldn’t speak, I was incapable of doing anything. While musty man had been talking to me the monotone maid had left and come back struggling to drag a massive chair, it was decorated with multi-coloured wires. Musty man sat himself down, attached some wires to his forearms and then indicated to monotone maid. She ambled up to me and connected one large cable to me and then to musty man. He turned to me and said ‘Don’t worry it won’t hurt – much!’
‘Soul transferral in 5,4,3’ my stomach locked as she counted down.
‘2,1’
A ripple juddered through my body like an earthquake.
Curiosity killed the cat.
