The Real Ending of Courting the Jester
The demolition crew had been failing so far in doing what is was that they did best. Laid out in front of them was a very good paying job that their boss had all been eager to get started on this morning. However, the reason behind their failure was crouched in the middle of the driveway right now, teeth bared and growling. Its tail snapped back and forth angrily, as if the animal was guarding the old abandoned manor behind it. The tiger was thin…it obviously hadn't been eating very well and there was a crazy look to its eyes that made the men nervous. Nervous enough not to get out of their trucks and into their bulldozers, because unless they were going insane, this tiger knew why they were there.
"Come on, this is stupid," the foreman said, forcing bravado in his voice. "It's just an animal. A few good rocks will scare it away."
"I don't think that's such a good idea, boss," his number one hand said worriedly from the passenger seat of the work truck. "It looks pretty mad. You really want to take on a ticked off tiger?"
"No, idiot, but we can't spend the rest of the day waiting around. We have a job to do! Do you know how big this account is?"
"I know how big that tiger is." There was no disputing that comment. Frustrated, the boss slapped his fist in his palm.
"Why isn't animal control here yet?" the foreman growled. His hand never answered, because they both knew why no one had rushed out to help when the call had been made two hours ago. No one liked coming out here. Rumor had it this place used to be a pretty nice home, the property of a young woman after she inherited it from her deceased grandfather. But something…strange had happened. Something strange and awful. The young woman had been an up and coming socialite, and so it wasn't odd that she had had so many friends. What had been odd was the way that they had all been found in the house, all seemingly healthy and unharmed. Except for the part about them being dead.
Five men and three women, all curled up on couches or sitting in chairs. Glasses of soda still half full when they were found, cold eggs still congealing on breakfast plates. Their faces were peaceful, serene as if nothing traumatic had happened to them. They had just been going about their morning routines, sharing a meal before the day was started, and then they all were dead. The official explanation was that there must have been some sort of major gas leak in the area, causing instantaneous suffocation. It wasn't unheard of for large bodies of water, like the lake behind the manor, to hold great amounts of natural gases trapped beneath their waters. All it took was a small earthquake to disrupt the water, letting huge bubbles of the toxic gases into the air, killing the local animal life. It wasn't unheard of…of course there had been no signs of damage to area wildlife, but Achem's razor says the simplest answer was the most likely one. And really…there were no other answers to why eight seemingly healthy young men and women had died simultaneously.
"I heard this place was haunted," the hand said with a nervous laugh. "But I never thought ghosts looked like tigers." His foreman shot him a disgusted look. He wasn't the type to believe any of that nonsense. It was probably the reason why he had been able to get this job, no one else had wanted it because of the legends. They said that weird noises could be heard from this house, even during the day. That if you stood close enough to the manor house that you could hear the sounds of scratching and whimpering, and even of crying. His boss didn't buy any of it.
"That's ridiculous," the foreman snapped. "The only thing wrong about this place is that the dang animal control just needs to get here and do their job so that we can do ours. I don't want to hear any more of that nonsense."
The hand quieted, watching the tiger. It seemed to understand that they weren't going to try and get past it right now, and it too seemed to quiet down. Lying low to the ground, it looked…tired. Weary. Although beyond being hungry, he couldn't imagine what could make a tiger look so worn down like that. It was the look that people had after long and painful experiences, after their loved ones had died of slow illnesses. That look of just wanting something to be over. But tigers didn't look like that. Right?
The tiger turned huge sad brown eyes toward him, as if he could tell what the hand was thinking. For a split second the man wanted to go outside and pet the animal, reassure it that everything was okay. Maybe even give it something to eat. But then it broke eye contact and turned its head, lips rising in a terrible snarl as another truck pulled up. Finally. Animal control. They pulled up next to the foreman's truck and the passenger rolled her window down.
"Took you long enough," the foreman drawled, causing the woman in the passenger seat to flush angrily.
"We don't get lots of calls on tigers," she said back primly. "We needed the right equipment."
"Sure." His tone said he didn't believe a word of it.
"Anyway, how long has it been out here?" she continued. The foreman shrugged.
"Don't know, don't care. Just get rid of it."
"I think it's been here since the people died," the hand brought up timidly, ignoring the baleful glare from his boss. "That's part of what they say…that you can hear growling and snarling here too."
The woman gave him a dubious look. "This house has been abandoned for three years, but it's not without neighbors. A tiger would roam in that period of time. Someone would have seen it somewhere else."
"Not if it's protecting the house," the hand muttered sourly as the woman turned away and stepped out of the truck with a gun in her grip, her partner doing the same. Slowly the woman moved her arm up, taking aim.
"You're not going to kill it are you?" the hand cried, suddenly distressed. His voice caused the animal to turn and look his way suddenly, as if reacting to his tone. Then it roared in pain and fury as a dart buried deep in its neck. The tiger roared a second time when the woman's partner raised his gun, but this time it leapt sideways as the next dart barely nicked its flank. It turned and darted into the woods, much to the frustration of the animal control workers.
"You startled it!" the woman snapped. "And no, we were tranquilizing it. The second one would have brought it down out here. Now we have to chase it." The hand hung his head, but his boss looked grimly pleased. The foreman hadn't liked the woman's attitude. While the two headed off into the woods, guns and more tranquilizer darts about their persons, the demolition workers finally started coming out of their vehicles, albeit cautiously.
"Okay, you wimps," the foreman shouted. "Nothing's going to eat you. Nothing's going to get you. Except for me! Now MOVE!"
That got them going. The hand took one last look out towards the woods, wondering what had become of the tiger, then he climbed up into the huge bulldozer with the wrecking ball. At least he wouldn't have to go inside the house. Even in the daylight…it was still creepy. There was no real reason why, but the morning sun couldn't take the darkness from this place. No wonder the new owner of the property wanted the house demolished, interior belongings and all. It was as if everyone but the tiger had decided that this place was no good, and needed to be destroyed. Poor tiger. Maybe it was the only home it had ever had.
"Get working!" the foreman yelled, and the hand turned on the dozer, already ready for this job to be done.
The sedatives moving through his system were already taking their toll, making the tiger stagger as he leapt up the back of the house. There was a balcony door on the top floor that the girl had always left open for him, so he always could get inside even when she was gone. His claws dug into stucco as he almost slipped before making the landing, and the animal's brain wondered if someday it would get yelled at for the claw marks. She used to get mad about those kinds of things. But not now…
He was fading fast and he knew it, but there was danger outside and everything in his body was screaming at him to let the others know about it. That had always been his job. Warn about danger. Warn his master, the human he loved, and his friends. Keep them safe. Keep them all safe. The human outside had seemed distressed and the sound had confused him, causing him to get injured from inattention. That was…bad. Injured he was useless. Injured he was nothing. Injured he couldn't save them.
Confusion in his mind, making him sleepy and disoriented as he creeped down the hallway. Confusion had surrounded him for so long. His human, all his humans, they had seemed so different. Growing more and more distressed by the hour, but ignoring the demon every time it was in the room with them. Every time it touched their hair or their clothing or stroked their face. Every time it hurt them. The animal didn't understand why they hadn't fought it. They were fighters, but they hadn't fought. They were lost in illusions that he couldn't see, could never warn them about. And then they had ended up in that room.
The bad room.
And the other humans that came after. Couldn't they hear the cries from upstairs? Didn't they know what was happening? Why had they left, pretending to carry nothing while crying so hard? Why didn't they help? Because the animal was helpless, and was growing even more helpless by the second. He collapsed heavily on his side, then drug himself forward by his claws, wiggling on the ground towards the end of the hall. He could hear them, although the sounds were growing fainter beneath the rushing of blood in his veins, and the rumbling of mechanical thunder outside. But he could hear. He knew what was happening behind that door, the door he couldn't break through no matter how many times he bloodied his body against it.
He could hear her crying through the wood. He pressed his nose against the hot wood and snarled with what was left of him, the smell of sulfur burning his sensitive nostrils. He heard his master scream in anger, then in pain, then silence. The tiger growled one more time, the noise lost in his throat as his head slumped against the door. It had been like this, always like this since the day the demon had come, no one had ever left the house. And then it lured them in there.
In the study. In the bad room. Where it had all began.
And as the tiger finally gave in and closed his eyes, shattering glass and snapping wood around him, all he could hear was the pleased humming in his ear.
One two, buckle my shoe.
Three four, open the door.
Five six, collect them with sticks.
Seven eight, close the gate.
Nine ten, never let them out again.
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April fools. Right? Because I really wouldn't have it end like this? This wasn't the ending I had planned all along and didn't write because everyone would've killed me…right?