Once upon a midnight bleary, while I nodded, drunk and cheery.
“No, no,
no, that’s no good.” Edgar mumbled to himself. “Gads—this poem is dreary
work. I’m so tired of it. I really should get off to
bed.”
He took
his quill pen and crossed his writing out.
"Hmm…dreary…weary." Edgar pondered. "Maybe
my poem should be about that."
Suddenly,
there was a tapping at his front door.
“Oh, for
the love of—!” Edgar stopped short of swearing.
He had
promised Lenore he wouldn’t swear anymore. He hastened to straighten his
night cap and gown. Lenore was asleep, and he was afraid that whoever it
was might get impatient, and rap louder than before. Then, he opened wide the
door.
“Edgar!
You scoundrel!” Devin said, stepping into the candlelit room uninvited, “pack
your bag. I’m leaving town and you’re coming with me.”
Devin
was dressed in traveling clothes and a cloak against the damp night air. Edgar
straightened to his full height and looked down at his diminutive friend.
“And, pray tell, from whence to hence will you be taking me?”
“Foulness
is afoot Edgar! A boy's gone missing. We're going to Bogshire Cemetery to
unravel the mystery.”
Edgar stared
at his friend, and lifted one eyebrow. “Let me get my coat. Wait here and
be quiet. Lenore is asleep.”
On their
way to the cemetery, Devin explained what had happened—
“It
occurred a fortnight ago, at the crypt of the mad Duchess. The
groundskeeper heard sound coming from inside of the crypt; scratching, as if
someone was trying to get out, and wailing, as if someone was calling for
help. But when the groundskeeper opened the crypt, there was no one
there.
Word of
it spread and Thomas, the young village fool, went out that night to hear the
sounds for himself. According to friends brave enough to go with him,
Thomas entered the crypt, though none dared enter with him.
Next,
they heard Thomas cry out, and then all was quiet except for the rattle of the
trees in the wind. His friends called out his name. There was no
answer. They waited until daylight to enter the crypt, and when they did,
Thomas was gone."
The
night air was damp but pleasant and the horses made good time. After several
hours they saw the cemetery sitting high up on the hill, its crosses and
gravestones silhouetted against the moonlit sky. Stunted trees were bent over,
shunning the sky, as if cowering before God.
Their
horses grew nervous, neighing and bucking, backing away from the entrance to
the cemetery. They refused to enter through the iron gate. Edgar and
Devin dismounted and they walked through the moonlit night to the crypt.
Icy coldness gripped both men.
“Well
Edgar, what do you think?” Devin asked.
“I think
Thomas was a fool to come here. Do you have a pen and paper, Devin?"
"I
do. You have a plan then?"
"If
we are to find out what happened, perhaps the best way is to simply ask."
Edgar
wrote on the paper and then rolled it up and placed it, along with the quill
and bottle of ink, in Devin's travel bag, He tossed it far into the crypt.
"We'll
return in the morning to retrieve it." Edgar said.
The
following morning Edgar and Devin returned and they entered the crypt. The
travel bag lay on the ground in shreds, as if some wild animal had torn it
apart with its sharp claws. The quill and ink bottle were missing, but the
piece of paper lay intact on the ground. Edgar picked it up.
"Last
night I wrote two questions on this piece of paper and someone, or something,
has written two answers." Edgar said.
He gave
the paper to Devin
It read:
Who are
you? I am the Duchess of Bogshire.
Where is
Thomas? Thomas is no more, he belongs to me now.
Devin
shuddered when he read the answers.
"Herein
lies evil." Devin said.
"Call
for a stone mason, Devin. We must wall off this crypt. The mad
Duchess of Bogshire must be stopped once and for all." Edgar said.
"And
Thomas? Can we not save him?"
"I
don't see how, Devin. The best we can do is to make sure she kills, nevermore.”
~DMelde
