Thursday, February 21st, 2002
From another mailing list I’m on, this one’s by Mike Porter.
Ladies and gentlemen, the adult take on The Smurfs
All signs said that he was close. The smell of deep woods untouched and unvisited by man. You wouldn’t think there was anyplace like this left in Germany. He touched his pocket protectively finding reassurance in the crinkle of paper that told him that his map was safe. If ever there was a goose chase?
He moved quietly. The movement of air told him that he was approaching a clearing. Everything was quiet. Gone were the sound of birds and insects. But there was something?. He strained to hear. It sounded like singing.
He almost stumbled over the first house but caught his balance and stared down in wonder. It looked like a mushroom. He knelt down to take a closer look. A small chimney extended from the mushrooms cap. And there were windows and inside?.
A wave of giddiness passed over him. The legends were true!
He fumbled in his pack for his hand recorder and captured a few seconds of the house on disk. He would have to document everything thoroughly if he had any hope of ever being believed. Die Schlumpfe! It was almost too fantastical. He couldn’t believe it himself.
He edged closer to the clearing. There were more houses. A regular village. And the singing was louder. There in the center! He zoomed in with the camera. A few more precious seconds caught on tape. They were gathering in what appeared to be the village square. “Don’t adjust your tint bars people,” he addressed his future audience. “They really are blue.”
The singing stopped.
The man swallowed hard. “Apparently they have exceptional hearing. I’m being forced into a first contact a lot sooner than I had intended?” He stood up slowly and took a cautious step forward.
“I mean you no harm,” he spoke slowly, calmingly.
It made no difference. The village registered his presence with shock and an explosion of violence. They leapt and clawed. They bit and scraped. Tiny fingers with needle like talons. They climbed him like a mountain. He shrieked and spun trying to shake them off, to break free. He ran back into the forest but they pursued relentlessly. Small arrows stung his back. In moments he felt the drag of poison. A lethargy that invaded his muscles. A fog that hazed his vision. He collapsed to the ground and he noted with a certain scientific detachment that their teeth were also needle-like. Carnivores.
He was a long time in dying.
* * * * *
“They have been awakened.” The man was old. He had forgotten exactly how old he was but he knew he was pretty old. He felt it in every twinge of his joints. He felt it deep in his bones.
“Not now Azrael!” His cat twined around his legs purring softly. “Didn’t you hear what I said? They have been awakened. We are the Guardians, you and I. We must do something before it is too late. The door must be closed.” He chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip.
Once when he was younger, a century or so ago he imagined, things might have been different. Runes of Passage and Seals of Solomon. By will alone he might have contained them. “It is no longer your time, elfkin.” He muttered. But now he was tired and weak. And he was afraid.
He reached down and picked up the orange tabby stroking her behind the ears.
He was terribly afraid.
