Ankou
Note: I dedicate this Christmas story to my fans, thank you for all your support.
Chapter 1: The Outcast Ankou
Blood…
I looked around, everywhere I look, all I see are red colours, the same colours that mirrored my eyes.
It all happened during Christmas eve. We were celebrating our first Christmas as a village. Everyone was singing and dancing, the yule log burning under the dancing embers of fire and and children receive lots of presents from their parents…
And then…
Suddenly, a roaring tidal wave came to destroy the day just as we were all about to retire for the night. I remember it so well, The wave was so huge, like a huge, cerulean clam waiting to smash itself on our serene village.
It was just a blink of an eye…
And then…
Shouts and screams followed. All the people that housed smiles on their faces earlier started to look in horror at the gigantic wave, and unknowingly, found themselves being smacked on the hills, on the pavement, on the shore, on the boulders, anywhere the water can slam them, I watched, as their bodies slip like dead ants towards the ground, leaving a trail of dark, crimson blood in their path.
Broken limbs abound the surroundings as well as dismantled huts and cabins, it was like breaking a landmark toy to pieces, not minding the wreckage and it's effect.
The villagers started crying and wailing under the dark sky, while I, in return just looked at them in shock. I was eight years old back then, still a bit innocent of my surroundings. I remember the people, looking like raised dead zombies, walking emptily, shouting, screaming, begging for the loved ones that they have lost to come back. Some where found dead, some where barely breathing, but others where drifted away in the sea for God knows where.
I remember my parents taking me to the temple quickly. They started to pray for our safety, but then, the Gods seemed to be deaf because the water started to seep on our little temple, entering shamelessly underneath the tiny space in quick, solid movements, and then within minutes, water started to rise up, it continued and continued until the water covered us, making us look like fishes in the sea, swimming on it's waves.
But…
We're not fishes, we're humans, we don't have gills that fishes have in order to breathe, we have lungs…
And human lungs collapse under water if there's no oxygen.
My parents swam towards the door, but it remained shut, my parents started ramming on it. I followed their example and hit the doors. Hard.
But it won't budge.
My eyes widened as I watched my mom, putting her last ounce of strength as she slammed her fists on the door, but after that last attempt, her body started to fall slowly under the water.
My father stared at her in horror, immediately, he swam to rescue his wife, but he wasn't that much of a help, minutes later, he collapsed and followed her to downwards.
Scared and worried, I swam towards my parents, but before I could reach them, I felt a stinging pain on my chest. As I looked on my body, I found that my body was hit by a large javelin situated at the corner. I didn't notice it before, maybe because we we're so focused on getting out.
I watched blankly as my blood flowed on my body, then trailing away and mixing with the blue water, making it dark purple, I watched it, until my eyelids felt heavy and I followed my parents… spiraling and wading below the surface of the flooded temple.
Little did I know that it was the beginning of my sufferance.
Because when I woke up, I found myself in a desolate place, an island filled with wails and screams of great sadness and terror.
The Baie de Trespasses, the Bay of the Departed...
I watched silently at the wedding ceremony being performed in our little village.
Curious, I looked from the bushes as to who will be married. And then, I saw Hotaru imai, the chief's leader, being married to Ruka Nogi, known as the most handsome man in the village.
In my opinion, Imai is a bit weird for a village woman. Instead of cooking and tending the house, she was creating things for the people to use. It bothered the villagers at first, but seeing how well her creations were of use to them, they began trusting her for her abilities.
As for Ruka Nogi, aside from being named as the most handsome man, he was also hardworking as well, and seemed to be loved by the sheeps and the cattles that he was tending to. All the animals seemed to relax in his presence, he can tame them at will.
Both of them seemed to be an odd combination, but well, I can tell that they love each other..
I wanted to join, but then, again, villagers seemed to be wary of my presence. No, wariness is an understatement, they are afraid of me.
I was assigned as the Ankou, a fisherman who was called by name in the deep of the night by God or devil to transport dead souls to the portal of the beyond on the shore of the distant island. Or Island or Bay of the Departed as we call them. That was ten years ago, when I was eight.
I was the last one that died in our village, a decade ago, I couldn't remember the face of the one one who talked to me and assigned me this job, but for some reason, I felt the need to obey.
During those times when I was alone, every midnight, I was sailing on the sea. Bringing and taking the souls that were swimming under the ocean towards their destination. It was traumatizing at first, hearing all the cries, all the begging and all the pleading the souls screamed next to me. I wanted to comfort them, I really do, but for some reason, I couldn't do it. I was doing it every night that I got used to the nightmare that he put me in.
Seeing that I'm alone, I put all the skills that I have learned from my dad and from the elders, I made my own cabin, I fished on the shore, I hunted, cooked my own food and made equipments that I will use and need. It was hard, but I managed to survive.
A year after that, another bunch of people found this island and decided to settle on this place, they viewed me as a lost child when they saw me, I never told them about the history, for fear that I will be left alone again. And I hated being alone.
They settled on the island easily. Lots of them started building cabins and went to the shore to catch fish. It was a pretty simple life, but we loved it, I loved being around people again. The people around me made me feel human again and made me feel like I'm a part of this world, that I exist in this world.
Seeing that I am in a comfortable position, I rebelled and ignored my midnight duties. I was around people all the time and kept my presence with them, joining them in every activity that they had planned. Some of them even volunteered to adopt me, but I declined. I was doing fine on my own even after my past fellow villagers left me. I maybe a child, but I know how to live independently.
I was doing really well, made friends and have people love and admire me, but all that changed when one of the couple's baby died after the harvest season. When I reached them, I saw the baby's eyes opened instantly, and gave me a look. His eyes which were once blue when he was born was now charcoal black, and it looked like oil drops. It looked so big for his small face.
And to my surprise, the baby spoke, the voice were clear, manly, and commanding.
"If you think you can escape you're duties as an Ankou, then you are completely mistaken… " He stated to the shock of the villagers and to my horror. "You are an Ankou, you will deliver the souls that died in the islands to me. You are my Ankou, and you will obey what I have asked you to do because your soul is mine. " He finished.
The baby blinked, then, black smoke started to come out from his mouth. He stirred a bit, and then, his breathing stopped completely.
People looked at me in shock and hatred, and to my surprise, they started to get wary, and unknowingly, pushed me out of their house for immediately, for fear that my presence will bring them death.
But it wasn't just their house…
They cast me out…
Because I am the Ankou, the transporter of the dead.
I lowered my eyelids. That was 9 years ago, and everytime someone dies in the village, they just look blankly at me, I can see hatred, fear and pity in their eyes as they watch me sail my canoe every midnight from their tightly closed windows. After that incident, people started to pay me little attention as possible. Ignore is the perfect word. Like I'm a shadow in their midst, they didn't care about me and pretended that I am invisible, it was hard to accept at first, but I got used to it.
I smiled. So in the end, I'm still alone...
And now, I am merely a spectator in their lives.
When I saw the newly wed couple kiss, I turned my head around. If I wasn't called to transport the dead, will I be married and build a family just like them?
It was close to impossibility, but for some reason, A piece of hope still lingered inside me.
I looked at the sun dial that I made and saw that it was almost midnight, I took my black woolcoat from it's hook and started to go to the shore.
I pulled my dark, wooden boat and set out to sail. All I have to do is just wait for the souls to fill in my boat as I paddle towards the portal of the dead.
When I reached the middle of the dark sea, I felt them, like harsh, white, visible winds crawling below and above me. If you're a first timer, you might be seasick and vomit, because souls usually have a smell of decaying, rotting, flesh, combine that with an old, rusty seaweed stench and you'll feel nauseatic all of a sudden. It will be unbearable for sensitive noses, I puked a lot after doing my first duty, it was so bad and not to mention intoxicating, so much that it made me dizzy at first, but as nights pass, I got used to it. I got used to them and their presence. Years of taking them made my nose immune to their smell.
The canoe started to dip further, but I know it won't sink. It never did, even if it dead, the sea will take my canoe back into the surface again. It didn't want any decaying souls inhabiting it's place.
I paddled further, my mom used to say the sea is alive and mysterious, she said that the sea has no end, you reach the end, you will see another end, when you think you reach it, you will see another end again and again. It had been a house to many prehistoric creatures and a witness to many tragedy and deaths, some still remained a mystery, even until now.
Just as my job remained a mystery to the village, I wonder, did my mom know that I am an Ankou? Do my parents know what I'm doing right now and watches me from above?
I shook my head, there's no use asking those questions, it will never be answered anyway.
Halfway through, I felt the cold gust of wind in my face, and some of the souls screamed in excitement, some in disdain, some of them shutting and hitting their own fellow ghost and tells them to shut up and be quiet. It was amusing to watch, yet creepy at the same time.
When the canoe reached the reddish, black hearth, I saw the souls clambering and hurrying themselves away from the boat as soon as possible, some of them climbed above their fellow ghosts, some jumped from one ghost to another, some of them said goodbye to me and thanked me for taking them to their destination, while the others are cursing me. Usually, if it's female ghosts, they gave me kisses on the cheek and tell me I'm handsome, while some male ghosts tried to insult me by pushing me from where I sat or mess my raven hair or slap my butt or kick my ankles. I knew it was always like this when they get out of my boat, all of them hurrying up to reach their next destination like passengers excited for their next trip.
After I made sure that all of them are out of the boat, I paddled back to the dark shore and into the midnight, black, sea. It was always like this. At first, I hated paddling in the midnight, it makes the sea really scary and made me think that it will swallow me alive, but then again, I knew I will never die, I won't die unless the God or demon or whoever creature it was that assigned me found another Ankou to take my job.
And I have to be honest, this kind of work is getting tedious, but since I can't get away from it, I might as well live with it.
I paddled back to my home island, and tied the boat to the nearest wooden pole that I can see. Afterwards, I took my slippers away, hopped out and stepped on the sand barefoot. With swift, silent steps, I went back towards my house.
But as I reached my door, I stepped back.
In front of me was a floating white coffin. I narrowed my eyes, wishing to think that this is some kind of a stupid prank, but as I looked closely, there were no strings attached on the edges of the coffin.
It creeped me out instantly. Unlike the dead that I transported, the smell that lingered around this one is sweet, like flower blossoms.
I lifted my index finger and ignited my own flame. A gift that I didn't know that exist until the villagers cast me out. I discovered it while trying to produce fire myself to warm my rice. I used it often, usually when I'm cooking.
Suddenly, pink, cherry blossoms fell from the sky, it rotated around the coffin in a fast speed, it rotated continuously and produced a soft, pink light at the centre of each flower. I watched, amazed at the magic. The blossoms looked like dancing tiny pink lights around the coffin. It was an exquisite sight to behold.
The blossoms continued dancing, once, twice, thrice, before slowly, one blossom ricocheted towards the sky which was followed by another blossom and another, and another until all of them disappeared.
And then…
I felt my vision darkening more, and I saw that the coffin was falling towards the ground.
Quickly I jumped out of the way.
BLAG!
I coughed as the sand and dirt filled my mouth and nostrils.
Curious and a bit terrified, I walked towards the coffin, it was still closed, but for some reason, I touched it.
Instantly, the cover pressed downward, I stepped back quickly as I saw the cover of the coffin dissipate into tiny crystals, the crystals floated in the air, and then disappeared in silver sparks.
I blinked, not knowing how to digest and absorb all the things that are happening to me now. I am praying that it's all a dream, so I slapped my self, when i saw that the coffin is still there, I slapped myself again, and when I saw it, I slapped my cheeks, I did it the fourth time before finally giving up and stare anxiously at the white thing in front of me.
I noticed that the coffin is now open, the cover was nowhere in sight.
I gulped, then grabbed my bolo which was secured at the left side of my waist, and bravely marched towards it to have a look.
My fear started to evaporate as I saw what was inside. It was a young woman, probably two years younger than me, sleeping peacefully with a bouquet of cherry blossoms in her hands.
She looked so beautiful, angelic. She had long auburn tresses, pale, creamy skin, and pink lips. If she fell from the sky, I would've guessed she's a fallen angel.
I looked at her, entranced. I've never seen anyone so beautiful and innocent in my life.
Before I can stop myself, I reached one of my brown, calloused hands and touched her pinkish cheeks. It was so soft and smooth.
Just as I was about to take my hand off, her eyes opened in an instant, and it revealed a pair of hazel eyes.
Those eyes looked innocently on me, and slowly, she sat up from her coffin, then set aside her bouquet. She raised her head towards me and tilted it to the side.
I gulped, feeling embarrassed. It was never my intention to touch her, but I couldn't help myself. She was so beautiful.
"Who are you? " She asked in a tender voice.
"I should be the one asking you that. " I replied hastily before I can think of anything. "What were you doing outside my house? " I questioned.
She angled her head forwards and looked around, an unknown surge of surprise washed over her pale, brown eyes.
"So this is where he sent me… " She murmured and stared at me.
"Pardon? "
She shook her head and smiled at me, she hopped gracefully from her coffin, she then snapped her fingers and the coffin disappeared in white glitter dusts.
"My name is Mikan… " She said and neared her face to me. "And I am asked by Santa to give you happiness… " She replied as she inched her face closer before crashing her lips unto mine.
Please review!
Thank you for reading.
This may be too dark for a Christmas tale, when we speak of Christmas, we all know that it is all about happiness, forgiveness, warm embraces, nice presents and family bondings. Gothic stories usually appear in Halloween. But then again, I'm not the normal type of author who follows any normal traditions, I'm the kind of author who put twists on everything, peculiar as it sounds, I love doing it.
Ankou is the personification of death in Breton, Cornish, and Norman Folklore. Aside from the explanation that I gave above, the Ankou is the henchman of death, he is also known as the graveyard watcher and protects the graveyard and the souls around it for some unknown reason, and collects the souls that died in his land or in any lands near him. He is always portrayed as a man, the man who was the last one to die in a parish, in some stories, he was wielding a scythe, in some, he is known as an old man wearing a black hat and black clothes, and in other stories, he was portrayed as a fisherman. I chose the third one as my inspiration.
This will be four chapters, and will be my tribute for Christmas.
Have a happy holidays!