Chapter 8
Home Sweet Home
Courage felt his freedom coming at last. He dragged the half-conscious farmer towards the boiler, which raged on with a steady flame, its pot belly occasionally looking red as well as the cool black of pewter. He opened the boiler door and it opened with eagerness, a glutton awaiting for food readily, the flames belching and crackling in feverish anticipation. If the pewter was clear, Courage could've seen his own smile reflected in it. A smile as cracked as a broken mirror, jaded and twisted. He looked down at Eustace and snatched the hat from his fingers, which grasped like a baby's, small whimpers rising from him.
M...my haaaat...ssstupid dawg, gimme dat!
You want it so bad? Huh? You want it that much? HUH? Well...FETCH! And without any hesitation, he threw it into the fire, orange tongues licking along the soft fabric hungrily as it was swallowed within the encased vision of Hell in the boiler. Eustace saw the hat fly into the boiler, and with a renewed strength born from disbelief and anger, rose up to punch Courage's snout. The dog flew back with his back painfully hitting the boiler door, feeling like the devil's pitchfork.
STUPID DAWG! That wus my fav'rite hat! I'm gonna...gonna...KILL you!
Stupid? Stupid am I? Here's a clue for ya Eustace! I ain't stupid, no matter what you call me! Why don't you join your hat in Hell? Courage pointed at the burning fire with a hungrily crazy gleam in his eyes, illuminated by the fire beside him. Eustace walked up to him and attempted to grab the dog's throat, but the dog merely chomped on the invading hand and hung on dearly, the farmer yelping with pain and threw his hand everywhere madly, trying to throw the dog either off or into the boiler. He would throw the dog into the boiler but didn't want to risk his hand getting burnt in the process. He tried another way. He threw the dog at the wall, the forced slamming Courage into it hard and making his head sting with a ferocious pain. Courage got up and clutched the nearest thing to him, which was a shovel since the basement was always used for storing tools. He held it deftly in both hands, grinning before he charged at Eustace and whammed the sharp sides of the shovel into the man's knees. Eustace screamed in agony and despite the farmer's pleas of his hands covering up his face, Courage denied any mercy left, and brought the blunt shovel down on Eustace's face. First it broke his glasses, then it broke his nose, then his skull began to become more and more out of shape as the dog didn't stop slamming the head.
YOU! Are! Stupid! Now! I'm! Gonna! Take! You! To! Where! Your! Hat! Is! NOW! Between his words of "I'm" and "Gonna", Courage broke the shovel from such force, but he merely began to use the pole end and bludgeoned the man's now broken and bruised face into submission and beyond. Realising he had literally pounded those words into his hated part owner, Courage grabbed his broken nose and dragged him by the nostrils to the open-mouthed boiler.
You never owned me...Muriel owned me...you don't belong here...you're gonna go and leave me and Muriel and we can be happy together, no more Eustace, no more misery, no more pain, no more scariness...just...me...and...Muriel.
He then lifted Eustace's nearly-dead head to the boiler and without a second though, shoved him into the boiler, going to his feet and pushing them in next, forcing the body to hunch up and contort against the walls of the boiler, the legs crammed in tightly against his chest. He should've been satisfied, now he had killed Eustace. But it wasn't enough.
Not enough hell for what you gave me...need more hell. He then went around to the pile of firewood near the boiler, and began to throw the logs in one by one into the boiler, feeding it more and more, giggling crazily to himself.
That's it, that's it...heheheheheeHEEEE, more Hell for you, Eustace, more hell, enough to show you the hell you gave me all these years, eh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heeeehhhh-
C-courage?
And then...he heard that voice behind him, and for a moment his insanity paused itself a moment. Turning around, he saw Muriel. The quaint Celtic voice had broken his actions for a while, seeing the plump homely woman with the yellow smock and white pinafore, that charming white hair fluffed up like a sheep's coat, and those charming bifocals above a teeny nose and a sweet looking mouth. At the mere sight of him...he melted and dropped the last log he was carrying. He walked to Muriel like a toddler on his first steps to his mother.
But she screamed in his face. Her face was frightened, saddened, shocked. Looking back to where she was looking, a thin bony hand had fallen out among the piled up logs in the furnace. Courage unconsciously tried to defend what happened, as if he had had no real motive.
M...Muriel...p-p-please-
Courage...ohh...what have ye done? Wh-what did ya do to Eustace? You didn't do this, did you?
No..NO...I...I...I-I-I-I-I-I...please...Muriel...
Please tell me...no...no, don't tell me at all. I know you and Eustace never got on...but...I didn't think it'd come to...ohhh...why...OHHH WHY COURAGE-
And it was at that moment, that the boiler began to groan eerily. Muriel and Courage both looked towards the boiler and the pewter began to look more and more brighter. It was heating up, becoming first a dull orange, and then a blazing sunset red. There was too much heat being built up inside the confined space of the furnace, and the boiler could not take all of it inside. Without any more warning, the boiler exploded, scattering pieces of Eustace and hot flaming wood everywhere. Courage didn't get hit, but Muriel was blindsided by several sharp pieces of hot firewood that dug into her face. Her scream was the most crucifying sound he would ever hear. It seemed to happen in slow motion. He looked up and saw that wondrous motherly face now twisted up into agony with a thick piece of wood blazing on her cheek, kissing her face and burning it to pieces with pure hate. Hate that the dog was originally giving to Eustace, but had now spread its misery unto Muriel indiscriminately. Her glasses had fallen off and shattered on the wooden stairs.
The dog could do nothing. He couldn't even speak since his mind did not even manage to process the image he just saw. With survival instincts of the canine blood, he ran up the stairs, taking Muriel's glasses with him in his hand, and running upwards. The fire had now spread to all corners of the room and was beginning to devour its course through the stairs, transporting along them and heading on upwards. With little time, he reached the phone and dialled 911. As soon as he heard a voice, he screamed "FIRE!" into the phone many times, before he saw that same fire lurking around the stairway, hunting him down. The hate he fuelled it with was now coming for him, it seems, at least to his own perception. He hoped that the fire department had enough sense to take his scream of help seriously, still not registering entirely the death of his beloved owner, Muriel.
He could only run out of the house and shiver with fear and disbelief as the fire raged on inside, soon consuming everything. He looked at it, slowly encroaching on the chairs, the kitchen, the electrical equipment soon exploding and blowing more wood apart and spawning more fires. The flames raped and devoured the wood, metal and plastic, as the electrical currents gave birth to more of the wicked fire. Soon enough it went upstairs, planning to take over the entire house, as wood began to splinter, making hollow short moans as they fell into several blackened pieces. Soon, the entire house was crumbling into a shadow of its former self.
The fire department came when the flames had reached the bedroom. They were too late to save the house, but it never stood a chance to begin with. They knew that and still did their job, the trucks blaring their red lights across the dying building uselessly. It took an hour to fully take out all the flames. When the firemen came out of the building, they saw Courage lying and shivering beside the flowerpots. With apologies written on their faces in empathy for the now homeless dog, now that they had seen Muriel in the basement as well as Eustace within the boiler, they asked him:
What happened, boy?
And of course, Courage could never tell them. And the thought of it drove him insane. The last parts of this memory involved uniforms being torn and blood flying through the air. And then they ran. Courage then had gone back into the house, and with the shock still not delivering in his system, he buried Muriel where she fell. And then went upstairs, before realising what happened as he saw his psychotic visage in the mirror.
And that was the story of the demise of Bagg farm.
All because of one stupid dog.
As the memory finally left him, Courage felt just like his broken reflection that day. False, broken, seeing himself in the past and shocked of what he did. Holding a remnant of Eustace's hat as well as one of his bone-charred hands, the dog walked away without a word. He even looked at where he now knew Muriel was buried, but didn't attempt to make peace, only looking at the ground in shame, before trying to make his way back upstairs.
Neither him or the Starmaker thought a word to each other, until they were outside and the sandy bare ground was underneath his toes, the sun seeming to burn down on him in disgrace, amplified by hatred.
Courage-
Please. He spoke that one word and she understood he didn't want to hear anything. He now knew, as he had perhaps unconsciously known all along, that Eustace was right in the end. He was a stupid dog. Because of his insane hatred, he had destroyed his own life, and ended the life of the one woman who ever loved him. Thoughts of anger, depression, betrayal and eventually the contemplation of suicide came to him. The Starmaker saw all of them pass by, and she intervened at once.
I will not say anything about what you have done. I am not here to judge you, Courage. But I can tell you how you can still prove you are not evil.
What miracle can I perform? I can't bring Muriel back...and there's nothing as wonderful an act like that I can do. I...I am a stupid dog.
I don't think you're stupid at all. Courage. She gently moved her tentacles to his snout and caressed his face softly, soothing him with her cool leather-like skin, massaging him. You've saved this world so many times from evil in every direction of this world and others. You've saved this farm so many times as well, and even saved my mother, and me and my brothers and sisters too! I know you can't bring back Muriel...but I know how you can make her feel proud of you.
Wh...what?
Rescue my siblings, Courage. Save my kind from being used by the chickens to control the universe. Surely, saving the universe will be as grand a miracle as reviving Muriel...don't you agree?
It made sense to him. In his amnesiac reverie, the dog had forgotten the reason he was on this road. He had done his grieving, and all of his pain had gone into the past, swirling away down the drain like in the sink where he had washed the blood off his paws. he remembered then of the chickens, and the leader he had defeated twice in the past. The first creature that came to destroy his peace. Without another word, he walked back to the Buick and got into the driver's seat, starting the ignition and finally leaving the farm behind. Now, like he had said before, there was nothing left there for him anymore.
