Kenneth Oppel - Such Wicked Intent

“Some remains in the burial pit,” he said. “They were very deep, and it took us some time, but there’s something very interesting indeed.”

My stomach clenched as I remembered the wailing and thrashing of the fleshy womb in the spirit world, but I heard myself asking, “May I see it, please?”

“Of course, yes.”

The professor led me through the caverns I’d become so familiar with, in this world and the one beyond our own. The walls were lit by the amber glow of many lanterns. We passed several dusty workers, stripped to their undershirts, strong limbs gleaming from their recent exertions.

For the first time my step faltered as we started down the steep passage to the burial chamber. Inside, great mounds of moist, richly stinking earth were piled high, an odor that recalled both rot and a freshly plowed field.

“The body,” the professor told me, “was not in one piece.”

A chill prickled my flesh.

“Has it just decayed over time?” I asked.

“No. It was intentionally massacred. Whoever he was, his people must have thought there was a chance he might somehow return. Clearly he was greatly feared. Come. See.”

The professor led me to the pit, and I could see it had been excavated some seven feet. A ladder led down to the bottom, where many pieces of all different shapes had been carefully laid out. The professor nodded for me to descend.

“Just mind where you step,” he said, following after me. His voice seemed to come from a long way away. “Originally the body seems to have been buried upright on some kind of elaborate bier-a platform on which the dead were often transported. The ones I’ve typically seen were made of wood. But this one appears to have been constructed entirely of bones.”

Step by step down the ladder, panic and claustrophobia squeezed tighter upon me. I reached the muddy earth and moved aside to make room for the professor.

“You can see those long lengths of bone tipped up against the wall, perhaps thigh bones or upper arm bones. Those appear to have been part of the bier.”

“They’re all hacked apart,” I said, noting their splintered ends.

“Yes. My guess would be that the grave was dug up shortly after the burial. The bier was smashed and the body itself torn apart. We’ve only recovered pieces so far.”

The professor reached down and picked up a large smooth curve of bone. He passed it to me.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“That,” he said, “is part of a skull.”

I swallowed, remembering the shadowy shape I’d seen within the fleshy membrane, how it had jerked as though turning to look directly upon me. “This… this is huge.”

The professor nodded. “Perhaps twice the size of a normal man’s. And here.” He picked up a thick wedge of connected bones. “The talus, tarsus, and navicular bones are apparent enough, but the metatarsals seem to be fused together into a single mass.”

“I’m sorry. What part of the body is this?” I asked, my empty stomach giving an unpleasant twist.

“That is a foot,” he said. “A clubbed one, curiously.”

I swallowed. “It’s so large that it seems more of a hoof.”

“Most unusual, I agree.”

“Professor, what was this creature?”

For a moment he looked as shaken as I felt. “Young sir, I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s possible, of course, that this was merely a person of giant proportions-though, I’ve certainly never heard an account of one so big. And there are always rumors in my field of study, things that defy scientific explanation. Things so bizarre they could only be monsters.”

He bent low and picked up something else.

“And here, the last piece we’ve recovered so far.”

He passed me an L-shaped span of bone that I knew at once was part of a very large jaw. On the lower half some teeth were still attached.

They were not the teeth of a human. But I’d seen the like before. They were all strangely serrated into four points, still venomously sharp.

They were just like the one I’d seen on the creature Elizabeth had already named Konrad.

I ran across the pastures, vaulting fences. As I neared the cottage, my sweat was icy against my skin. I flung open the door to find the place deserted. They must’ve taken him to the glade again. Before I left, I grabbed a shovel.

Fatigue slowed my steps as I hurried through the forest. How had I become so feeble when I’d once felt so strong? When I reached the little hill, I was out of breath and labored up to the top, kneading the cramp in my side.

Through the trees I could see the glade spread below me. On a picnic blanket sat Elizabeth and… Konrad. For several breaths I could only stare in confusion, for it was exactly like looking at my brother. Indeed, the creature even seemed to be wearing Konrad’s shoes and trousers, shirt and jacket. His abundant hair, quite long now, was stylishly tied back. Elizabeth poured a cup of tea and held it out to him; he took it and drank.

Where was Henry? My eyes swept the glade, and there at the far end I made him out near some bushes, picking blackberries.

The scene was so serene, I felt some of my panic ebb.

It was Konrad, and all I had to do was walk down to see him. My brother. Elizabeth was pointing things out to him, as she would a child, no doubt naming them. A tree. A cloud. A patch of flowers that grew near their blanket.

Konrad stood and looked at them more closely, then grabbed them and ripped them up. He tasted them and spat them out. I heard a trill of Elizabeth’s laughter, and she came and gathered up one of the flowers, and smelled it, then held it out to Konrad, tickling his nose. He leaned into the flower, then took it from her hand and held it under her nose.

And then he kissed her on the mouth.

I watched, frozen. For what seemed like a very long moment, she let him kiss her-or perhaps she was not merely allowing but participating. Then she put her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back, saying something. He gazed at her for a moment. Then he seized her arms and kissed her again, roughly on the neck.

I shouted, but my voice was hoarse, and I didn’t think either of them heard me. I lurched headlong down the hill. Elizabeth pushed against him, but he overpowered her, forcing her to the earth. He lay on top of her, pinning her arms flat even as he continued to ravish her, his mouth on her throat and lips.

Elizabeth cried out, and I saw one of Konrad’s hands dragging her dress up, revealing her stockinged legs.

Henry was running across the glade now, but I reached them first.

“Get off her!” I bellowed, my shovel raised.

Konrad and Elizabeth both looked at me in surprise.

“Victor, no!” I heard Elizabeth shout.

Konrad began to stand, and I struck him hard on the shoulder with the flat of the shovel, knocking him over. He looked at me, and those empty eyes were no longer empty. They were filled with anger, and his jaw jutted-his brow furrowed and compressed.

But then, just as suddenly, he looked like a slightly younger Konrad, clutching at his shoulder. There was blood on his fingers.

“Victor, you’ve hurt him!” Elizabeth cried.

“He attacked you!” I felt Henry’s hand on my shoulder and turned to him. “You saw it, Henry!”

My oldest friend was pale, eyes flicking nervously from Konrad to Elizabeth. “I saw it too. He was forcing you against your wishes.”

“He doesn’t know!” Elizabeth protested.

“What doesn’t it know!” I bellowed back, not taking my eyes from the creature. “It knew enough to try to rape you!”

“No. He has a man’s appetites but no conscience yet,” she said.

The creature stood up, and for a moment its face darkened and I thought it might lunge at me, so I struck it again with the shovel on its leg. With a wail it turned and pelted across the glade and into the trees, making a sound like a thrashed dog.