A villager stared at me through my bathroom mirror, his beady eyes and ear-splitting smile perennially fixed onto my face, burying his revolting gaze into my soul. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling back as I rubbed the fabric of my cream-white robes surreptitiously, trying to remove the stain that simply would not disappear. It was no use. My cloths were tarnished, sullied by that ugly blemish that defiled immaculate surface. It did not belong, but simply would not leave. Just like me. And the villager knew it.
My head lifted up at the sound of the crowing of the rooster. It was already morning. I hadn’t slept a single wink. I tottered over the toilet bowl unsteadily, parting my robes at the waist, but the sight of my member almost sent my guts hurling out. I swear I could still feel the pig squirming on it like an oily balloon. I sealed my eyes shut and folded up my zipper hastily, dashing out to my living room, bladder still unemptied. I gasped desperately for air, struggling to find a handhold as the room fell apart around me. Strange shapes contorted themselves into furniture, impossible shadows grabbing at my ankles as they sucked me into an endless whirlpool.
The front door opened with a click. Jameson burst into my living room and my face wiped itself clean, beaming back at the intruder.
“Jameson! Good to see you this fine morning!”
The wretched man matched my enthusiasm inch for inch. “Howdy neighbour! Excuse my barging in - I noticed you hadn’t been doing your stretches these past few days and was concerned. It’s not like you to miss our routines.”
“Oh, you know how it is,” I chuckled, pushing my muscles to begin the first steps of that loathsome routine, “so many chores to do nowadays.” Indeed, if by chores I meant rocking myself back and forth in the bathtub as I shivered myself to a few terrible minutes of nightmare-fuelled sleep.
“Of course, we all have those days. Still, don’t want to do that too frequently. People will start start to wonder.” The grin remained affixed to his face. I giggled - wrong reaction - and he looked at me for a second too long before continuing.
“Anyway, do you know what day it is today?”
Monday. That accursed rotation around the Sun. “How could I forget? I’ve been looking forward to it all week.”
“Of course. But I notice you haven’t seen the package on your driveway?”
Questions, questions, too many questions. That was the third one this morning.
“You know what they say, the worm who waits is the one who finds himself in the biggest apple.” I whistled cheerfully, making my way towards the door. “Let’s see what we have.” I opened the door of the house, letting sunlight back into my darkened cave.
Almost immediately, the screams lanced through the air. High-pitched wails of terror echoed around the neighbourhood, shattering the tranquility of the pristine village. The voices were sharp and frail, belonging to those whose youthful lungs had yet to been eroded by countless cycles of raw fear.
Jameson sniggered at the sound. “Got my own wrapped up like a little cheesecake by my porch. You better open yours soon. Don’t want them running out of air before you get started.”
My gut tightened, a deathly chill seizing the depths of my heart. It was one of those days. When someone else, someone who was innocent of the foolish greed and desperation that got me into this mess, got dragged in to satisfy the whims of the Men in the Clouds. I hated them for making us do it, and hated myself even more for carrying on the charade for them.
My own package was at the tip of my driveway. The blue silk wrapped around the small wooden box daintily. It was just big enough to fit a child. The box rocked slightly to the rhythms of the thumps emanating from within, barely strong enough to be heard over the cacophony.
A sickening taste burned inside my mouth. A child. Why was it always a child? What did they do to deserve this? What did they do to deserve me?
I had to get this over and done with. If I dragged it out any longer, I didn’t know how I would face my family again.
I gripped the latch of the trunk, pulling it loose with a grunt to come face-to-face with the boy inside.
“Dad?”
I stared at the skinny boy in the trunk, uncomprehending. The boy was barely more than a decade old, limbs awkwardly splayed to fit the width of the box. He pushed himself up towards me, but hesitated, top half of his body hovering above the open trunk.
“Dad? Is that really you? What’s going on? The men said I needed to come with them. Said you needed help.”
The boy looked like my son, I had to give them credit for that. But they had gotten the proportions wrong. My son wasn’t this big, wasn’t this old. It was a clever trick, but an imperfect one. I wouldn’t be fooled that easily.
His face creased with worry, looking at me nervously. “Dad? What’s wrong? You’re… different.”
Even the voice was uncanny. I had to say that I was impressed. The Men in the Clouds knew what they were doing.
“It’s been so long. Mum and Jie and I were so worried. You never replied our letters. We didn’t know if you were still ok. Not even Uncle Philbert’s family had heard anything.”
“Yes yes,” I mumbled, darting my head around me rapidly. Jameson and the other neighbours had returned to their garages momentarily, probably to open their own shipments. When they returned, I had to blend in, make sure I wasn’t doing anything untoward.
“I’m scared Dad. I heard screaming when I was in the box. I pushed and pushed and pushed, but it was so heavy. I thought I was going to drown and I was trapped forever and I would never see you or Mum or Jie again but then the box opened and I saw you and I’m scared and I don’t know what’s wrong.”
What was the behaviour they expected? What was the boy for? I had to find out if I wanted to act like one of them. The street was empty for now, so I had some time to figure it out. But I had to act happy, I couldn’t show worry or concern or they would -
“DAD!” My head snapped up towards the boy.
“Why are you being weird?” He whimpered. His hands were gripping the edge of the box tightly, his small frame backing away from me nervously.
I looked into his eyes for the first time. They were a deep olive green, as dark as the ones I saw gazing back at me each morning in the mirror.
My son.
“Ah Wei.” The sound of his name choked in my throat. “You’ve grown so much.” Before he could say a single word, I threw my arms around him, swallowing him up in a mighty embrace. I felt his warm cheek press against mine, the tension in his body dissipating as he relaxed in his father’s arms. He was so warm, so precious. His heat surged through me like like a candlelight, its honeyed warmth freeing my soul from the rusted chains shackled around it. I sobbed as I clutched onto my little boy, promising to never let go.
But then I opened my eyes, and we were still stood apart. He looked at me fearfully, carrying a look that should never be on a ten year old boy’s face. My hand began to move towards him, every pore of my body craving to stroke his cheek, but I stopped myself. I could not. That would be a death sentence. For me and for him.
My gaze flicked to the side warily. I still had a few seconds.
“What’s going on Dad? Why’s everyone on this street acting so weirdly?”
“Nothing, nothing son. Daddy’s just in a bit of a tricky situation, ok?” I reached towards his hand, but he flinched away instinctively. A look of guilt flashed across his face, and his limb returned with trepidation. I grabbed onto his palms, feeling his fingers clammy and cold in mine. “You have to do exactly as I say. You must stay perfectly quiet and follow me, even if it sounds weird, ok?”
He hesitated. I pulled his hand closer to me and began running my fingers along their circumference, tracing the familiar peaks and valleys of his fingers, as I always used to do when he snuggled up next to me during a thunderstorm. “You trust me, don’t you? You are my son. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
His face relaxed slightly and he nodded vigorously. “Ok,” he whispered. He reached towards me, hands outstretched in the shape of a hug, but I stood up quickly, glancing around to see who was around us. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Jameson, walking towards me again with a big grin on his face, a thrashing sack of flesh slung over his shoulder. I pushed Ah Wei back into the box and waved at Jameson as he approached.
“Look at these mischievous rascals! Who knew something so small could cause so much trouble?”
“Let me go Dad! You’re hurting me!” The child on his shoulder screamed and writhed, but Jameson’s grip was made of iron.
“Silly little things really, screaming all this nonsense about us being their fathers. As if I wouldn’t recognise my own children! I’m glad my sons learned some manners and aren’t like this snot-nosed brat. No manners at all!”
“Indeed. How childish and spoilt.” I managed to steel my voice, catching it at the last second before it cracked. “They need to be taught a lesson.”
“Well said,” he nodded sternly. “We must take action. It is only right. Look - they are gathering in the square.” I followed his pointed finger down the street. The neighbours were streaming into the assembly ground slowly. Behind each one was a little body, dragged in a plethora of contorted poses across the white tiles. It was a square day. The worst of all days. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide your revulsion. No hidden corner you could count on to empty your guts secretively, no sleight of hand to avert the worst of the ordeal.
“Shall we?”
I nodded brightly, feeling my heart sink. I picked Ah Wei up before he could say anything, throwing him across my back brusquely like a sack of potatoes.
“Ow! Dad that hurts! Put me down!” He wiggled uncomfortably, pushing against the fabric of my shirt.
I had no choice. Jameson was right behind me. I simply tightened my grip around him and marched on.
By the time we got to the square, it was packed. The entire village was out today. A half-century of blind sheep in wolves’ clothing, grinning from ear to ear like they were at a New Year’s celebration. For all I knew, to them, it could very well be. Who knew what sick machinations the Men in the Clouds had dreamed up this time.
Washington was surveying the crowd from a raised platform. A child was attached limply to his wrist by a rope, slumped over on the floor beside him, unusually docile. I peered forward in puzzlement, before noticing with horror the ugly purple welt that was forming around her forehead. The man’s lips were pursed, an unreadable expression on his face, but as soon as he locked eyes on us his eyes sparkled.
“Jameson! Ming! We were just looking for you!” Washington’s voice boomed over the square, eliciting a chorus of yelps and friendly welcomes from the other villagers. “The festival cannot begin until all of us are here, after all. Come, gather round and let’s start.”
Everyone shuffled closer, the bubbling excitement tangible in the breeze. The shackled children stumbled behind them unwillingly, occasionally crying out when they were kicked forward savagely by another villager.
“Daddy? What’s going on? Why are all these children tied up?” Ah Wei whispered in my ear, his voice trembling with fear. He squirmed some more and I locked my arm around his slender waist, hoping in vain that that would suffice to comfort him.
“As all of you would know, today is the day we look forward to every year. The day we cleanse ourselves of our iniquities and bathe in the pure river of the holy.” Washington looked each of us in the eye, a maniacal grin carved into his face like a jack-o-lantern.The inquisitor. I hated being around him. Jameson was insufferably nosy and sanctimonious, but Washington was a different breed altogether. The self-appointed spiritual leader of the town, whose burning faith in his ironclad beliefs infected every wave of his hand and whisper from his mouth. The programming of the Men in the Clouds had found fertile pastures in his demented mind, taking the ideas seeded within to the extreme with his fervour. His jet-black eyes roamed around the crowd like a pair of insects. I forced myself to lock onto his irises when they settled onto me. I swore they lingered for longer than usual.
“Today, we renew our covenant with the traditions that are the ballast of our community. Join me, my family, in drawing closer together in unity, through the vessels we have been gifted. These strange creatures are no children, even if they claim relation to us. They are mere vessels through which we must achieve our purposes. Purposes that call for blood.”
I could do this. Maybe there was still another imposter in the village, choosing today to be the day he finally broke. If the villagers had their fill with another poor soul, they might forget about the festival, ending the day’s ritual there. It was a foolish hope. Every single one of these villagers were complete fanatics. I couldn’t imagine any of them being one of my people. But even if there was the dimmest of hope, I had to pray. Failing that, I was near the back. A light beating, maybe drawing a bit of blood here and there - Ah Wei could forgive me for doing that. I was his father, after all. That’s what families did - they forgave. Or I might be able to feign an injury, claim that my physical debilitation was responsible for my reduced fervour. It would cost me, but it was a price I could repay next week with enthusiasm in abundance. As long as Ah Wei went home in one piece, it would be worth it -
Why was everyone looking at me?
I snapped my head up towards the platform, where Washington was smiling at me wolfishly.
“What do you say, Ming? Would you like to lead the celebrations?”
My heart plunged into an abyss. My eyes darted among the crowd in panic before I could control myself. All around me, the faces of the villagers were filled with envious awe, gazing at me like I was a demi-god.
“M-me?” I choked out the words.
“Yes, you,” Washington said with a laugh. “Don’t be surprised. You’ve earned it with your diligence and fervour.”
I could see people moving. I could see their mouths opening and closing. But there was no sound in the world. It had turned itself upside down, bending into itself inside out. Nothing made sense. This couldn’t be happening.
“Ming?” I snapped out of my daze and a tidal wave of sound crashed back into the world. Washington’s voice had darkened. “Is there something wrong?”
“No.” The words dried up in my throat before they had even left. “Of course not. I would be delighted to accept that honour.”
“Perfect. Why not you come up here then? There’s plenty of room.” The smile returned to his face, but his eyes remained fixed onto me like obsidian daggers.
My feet were made of lead as I dragged myself and Ah Wei through the crowd, desperately praying for the earth to swallow me up there and then.
“Dad? Where are we going? What is that man saying?”
I tried to shift my feet in the pattern of a dance, keep my shoulders bouncing rhythmically in the cadence of celebration. But it was too little, too late. By the time I got up to the stage, the mood of the crowd had blackened. The awe-struck look that had permeated their faces had disappeared, replaced instead with a sombre wariness. Whispers flittered through the assembled villagers, gazes hardening into suspicious stares.
Washington turned back to the crowd, lifting his arms to the heaven like a prophet. “My family. Today a Blessed one has been chosen to lead our family in our Dance. I do not need to remind you what an honour this is. Let him take the first thrust, and let his anointed hands show us what we must do. My family, let us watch him.”
A brutally big knife, its ugly edge glinting in the sunlight, appeared in his palm. Washington thrust it into my limp hand and clapped me on the back, too hard to be friendly. “You know what to do next, don’t you?”
The world was collapsing around me, a screeching drone of white noise filling my ears. The sky, the faces around me, my hands - they were all an impossible blood-red. This was a dream. Everything was a dream, nothing was real. It had to be. My gaze fell on Ah Wei, my little bear, my sweet baby boy. His face was the only thing that still retained its colour, warped into an expression of abject terror. He looked so real.
“Dad. I’m scared. I want to go home. Please.”
A strange murmur echoed through the crowd. Among the villagers, eyes began to narrow. A number stepped forward towards me, froth beginning to bubble at their mouths, their hands starting to morph into clawed talons. My head was thumping. Visions bust through my mind unbidden, of torn up bodies, of moist flesh between my teeth, of mangled lumps of appendages that had once resembled limbs. The hum of death had already started, rippling through the crowd as their forms began contorting into those bestial shapes. But this time, the one being excommunicated was me.
“I’m sorry Ah Wei.” I choked. “Forgive me.”
My son opened his mouth to say something, but before the words could leave his throat my hand whirled through the air, straight onto his elbow. The cruel knife found only the slightest of resistance as it cleaved through his young flesh, emerging from muscle and bone cleanly on the other side. The severed arm flopped the air, landing on the floor in a spasm of blood.
Ah Wei’s scream nearly shattered me.
A gleeful howl burst among the villagers and they dove for the children shackled to them, the sound of juvenile terror and of flesh separating itself from bone scorching the bright blue sky.
My insides left my throat before I could stop them. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. A torrent of horror, of disgust, of utter self-hatred for what I had just done, surged through me. I screamed and flailed my fists against my own legs, desperately trying to draw blood. Beside me, Ah Wei was convulsing on the floor, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he foamed at the mouth. I would too, if my own father had done what I had.
It didn’t matter. I didn’t have much longer. It was obvious who I was, what I was. I closed my eyes. I didn’t care what they did to me. I could not go on.
Then I realised that the looming figure beside me was completely silent.
My gaze darted upwards. Washington stared at me, an awful, haunted look in his eyes. The supercilious smirk adorning his face had disappeared, replaced by a haunted expression of despair.
“WHY! WHY DID YOU DO IT! WHY DIDN’T YOU LET YOURSELF BE KILLED!”
I stared at him, my mind a complete blank.
“YOU MONSTER. THAT’S YOUR SON! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE!”
Beside him, the erstwhile unconscious girl had awoken, ugly shrieks of pain tearing through her lungs as she looked at the empty space her left arm had once occupied. Blood spurted from the wound like a fountain as she thrashed on the floor.
Washington’s grabbed her in a hug, a tenderness I had never seen aching through his sobs. “I’m so sorry sweetie. I am so so sorry. We’ll get your arm back, I promise.”
“NO NO NO NO!” She howled and kicked away desperately, crawling away from him with one arm like a worm on the floor.
“Sweetie?” He choked. “Daddy is here. Come back to me.”
I gaped at him, mind whirling with a thousand thoughts, before they were expelled by a terrible realisation thought.The villagers. I leapt up over Ah Wei, who was lying unconscious on the floor, his skin drained of all colour as a pool of blood formed around him. I might die, but I would not let them take him. Those demented sheep would have to go through me first. Then, I noticed something was wrong. The children were wailing, but every single one of the villagers was frozen in place. In the daylight, they looked eerily different, almost unrecognisable. I stared for a moment, before I realised why.
They weren’t smiling anymore.
The dazzling grins that had decorated their faces every day for the past seven months had disappeared entirely, replaced by masks of lifeless horror. We looked at each other, uncomprehending. And then the truth dawned on our faces at the exact same moment.
“There are no villagers.” I whispered.
We stared at each other, our broken children shrieking from their shackles, the blood on our hands dripping into rivulets around our feet, and realised we were all the same.
Just not in the way we had pretended to be.