Date: Thu, 5 Oct 2000 09:20:15 -0600 From: Robyn Herrington Organization: University of Calgary Subject: [WRITERS] SUB: CONTEST: The Basilisk Critiques are encouraged. Send them to *me* at rmherrin@ucalgaryca... the same place you send your stories, right? Right? Right? Robyn -------------------------------------------------- THE BASILISK "Feed me!" the voiceless rush of damp air seemed to speak as Henry opened the lid of the tank. Kia, his prized Komodo Dragon, was waiting for her food with slackening jaws. A wet hiss and slinging of gravel signaled Kia's approach, hidden except for a dark form moving across the frosted glass. It was a large tank, measuring five meters long and two meters wide, barely enough to contain the six-foot long, two hundred pound dragon of the east. Henry dropped the two-pound slab of raw beef into the tank, then withdrew his hand only a second before Kia snapped at the air where his fingers had been. She only tolerated his human presence, or he would have been dragon fodder long ago. Despite her disdain and her untamable temperament, Henry treasured his pet, and pampered her as best he could. He closed the lid, secured the latch, then went to the sink to wash his hands. He then returned to the sofa and slumped into the cushions to enjoy the Three Stooges. Even with the volume up, he could still hear Kia feeding, her jaws grinding the meat, her mouth smacking with that sickening venom mucus, and the drilling wet hiss of her hot breath as she gulped down her meal. Henry sank his head into the cushions and focused on Moe's slapping Larry. It was three hours later when he awoke to find the channel off the air, filling the darkened room with a static hiss and a sparkling glow. Henry clicked the remote to turn off the TV, and rubbed the haze of sleep from his eyes. He noticed, in his drowsy consciousness, a shadow on the wall. The shadow was vast, covering most of the wall, and distinct, despite the darkness of the room. It seemed to be darker than the night itself, and thus made visible in the dark. It was shapeless and indefinable, yet distinctly there, unwavering. As Henry sat up, the shadow began to move, slowly at first, then rushing to disappear into the far corner of the room, leaving only a momentary line of black, as if a tail, across the wall. This was quickly replaced by the dancing of diffused light across the wall and ceiling. The lights -- suddenly a distinctive set of two -- wavered across the wall, disappearing into the same corner, following the shadow. It was a car going by, its headlights dancing across Henry's room, through the window overlooking the street. As the whine of the car's engine faded off down the road, Henry rose from the sofa to go to bed. On the way to his room, he glanced at the silent form of Kia, now sleeping peacefully in her tank, after a meal. The night was quiet inside the apartment, though outside, the restless chorus of insects droned on incessantly. Henry found sleep quickly, not long after his head hit the pillow, and he had not bothered to undress. The next morning, Henry stumbled into the kitchen to start the coffee maker. He retrieved a hot dog from the refrigerator for Kia's breakfast, and noticed a trail of wet spots on the floor by Kia's tank. They were glistening and translucent red. He assumed it was the drippings of the meat from Kia's dinner the night before. Without another thought about it, he grabbed a paper towel and wiped up the drippings. That night, Henry fed Kia, as he did every night, then settled onto the sofa to watch his favorite Humphrey Bogart movie on TV. Halfway through Key Largo, he fell asleep. Upon awakening an hour later to an annoyingly loud commercial, Henrylooked up and noticed the strange shadow on his wall, the same eerie form he had witnessed the previous night. As before, the shadow was still for a time, looming across the length of the wall, lifeless, and yet possessing some inexplicable force. As Henry kept one eye on the shadow, unsure of its origin, he saw that it did begin to move. It crept forward, slowly at first, but increasing in speed, slinking its way toward the far corner of the room. And as before, it trailed a narrowing shadowed line behind it, as if it were a tail. This night, however, there was no flash of lights from any car, only the strange shadow, disappearing into the crevice of the corner. As the shadow disappeared completely, Henry began to tremble, becoming unnerved at the thought of the ghostly shadow. His eyes searched the room then, for the source of sounds he thought he heard. His hand was trembling as he reached for a cigarette. With the unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, he went to Kia's tank to check in on her, thinking to distract himself from the eerie shadow of the night. He lifted the lid and made cooing noises, his way of charming her. But, there was no stirring of gravel, no response from Kia. He lifted the lid further to see her, but she remained still, her eyes closed. Daring to reach his hand in, Henry touched the spine of her neck, withdrawing quickly to avoid her snapping jaws. But, there was no response, no movement at all from Kia. He touched her once more, nudging her a bit. Still, no response. Henry drew back with a mournful sigh. "Please don't tell me she's dead." A sudden noise from outside distracted Henry from the tank. He let the lid drop, not bothering to latch it, and went to the window to check on the disturbance. He saw nothing unusual outside, but continued to hear the strange sound. It was the sound of something scraping, as of a large animal scratching its claws along the ground. It was a hollow, resonating sound, as of something quite enormous and unearthly. The sound moved across his yard outside, seeming to come from the area where he was looking. But, he could see nothing moving. "Probably those damn kids," Henry thought, remembering that it was Halloween. He turned from the window and retrieved a flashlight from a drawer, intent on chasing away the Halloween pranksters. Henry rushed out the door, then stood firm with his flashlight panning the area. The uneasiness returned to Henry as he ventured a few steps at a time into the darkness, with only the thin beam of his flashlight to light his way. He listened in the dark for the sound to reoccur, but it had stopped the moment he stepped out the door. Suddenly, there came another sound. This sound was even more unnerving. From somewhere in the darkness, very near it seemed, Henry heard a sharp, deep hiss, somewhat like the sound Kia makes when feeding. The flashlight dropped from his shaking hand, clicking off as it hit the ground. The last thing Henry could remember was a rush of hot, odiferous air surrounding him, and a hollow, wet smacking, much like Kia's tongue... -- ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Robyn Herrington New Currents in Teaching and Learning / InfoServe Phone: 220-2561 Email: rmherrin@ucalgary.ca Story ideas are like rabbits that have ventured unwittingly into view. The slightest noise or movement can spook them and they bolt off into the dark undergrowth never to be seen again. -- Adrian Bedford ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~