In those days the forest was a good place to live. My sisters and I had everything we needed. The rivers teemed with fish and the trees hung heavy with nuts and fruit. I don’t know how big the forest was. Back then, it seemed to us that everything was forest. We could walk all day and the trees would dapple us with shade. Life was good.
I don’t remember my father at all. Mother would smile and change the subject when we asked. After a while we stopped asking. I think it was because we were interested in other men by then. We were timid at first and watched them from the trees. There were old men sitting on carts, clicking the reins and singing to their ponies. There were big men who walked with a careful tread and carried bows or traps, and who came back laden with furs. And there were the young men, sometimes. We watched them with our breath held tight.
We didn’t know why.
We asked mother about it, of course. She smiled and changed the subject at first, but we persisted. So she sat us down, one spring day with all the birds singing, and told us. It sounded very strange. We talked about it afterwards, just the three of us. I remember giggling a lot, but it was a nice feeling. The more we talked, the more interesting it all sounded; the more eager we grew.
It had to happen, one day. He had long dark hair and a pointed nose and he wasn’t very handsome, but we didn’t mind. It was a lovely morning and we whispered and laughed until he couldn’t help but hear us. He called out; for a moment we froze, but then all three of us burst into a fit of the giggles. Next thing we knew he was peering into the forest, right at our tree. He pushed through the undergrowth until he got to where we were hiding; and he looked up at us and we all smiled back down at him and blushed.
He looked at us and his eyes narrowed in a funny sort of way.
“Who are you?” he asked, and he didn’t sound as if he was pleased to see us.
“Sisters. We were playing, and then we heard you come along…”
“Playing?” he asked. His eyes weren’t so narrow now.
“Hide and go seek. It’s a lovely day to play, isn’t it?”
He rubbed his hand across his chin. He was smiling now.
“It is. Certainly it is. You think I could play too?”
“All right,” We were still giggling. ”You stay here and we’ll hide. Cover your eyes and count.”
He did as we said, but I’m sure I caught him peeping as we shimmied down out of the tree. Off we went into the forest, the three of us all in different directions.
“We’re ready!” we called to him. And the game began. We didn’t stay hidden in one place, because that wouldn’t have been much fun. We skipped about the forest, hiding behind bushes and then popping up to scurry elsewhere, so that he’d catch a glimpse of us between the trees. He crashed around through the forest where we skipped and danced. We called and laughed and giggled and he blundered and crashed and shouted until we could tell he was getting angry because he couldn’t catch us. That was when we decided to make it easier for him. He found us almost at once, then, where we’d all three gathered behind a great elder bush.
“I’ve got you,” he said. He was red-faced and sweating but that big smile was on his face again. ”You led me a merry dance, though.”
“It’s a good game,” we said, and smiled, and blushed.
“I know a better,” he said, and started taking off his shirt.
His game was very different and he seemed very keen on it. He played it with my eldest sister first, and then he played it with my middle sister, and then finally he played his game with me. We played it for a lot longer and it felt very strange but rather nice. Eventually, he stopped playing and rolled over onto his back. He looked very tired but he had an even bigger smile on his face, now.
“Wasn’t that a fine game?’ he asked.
We agreed that it was.
“We’ve got another game,” said my eldest sister.
“Mother taught us this one,” said my middle sister.
“Close your eyes,” I said. And he smiled and he closed his eyes as he lay there.
He didn’t like our game at all.
He screamed and his eyes snapped open and he tried to get up. But my youngest sister had hold of one arm and my middle sister had hold of the other; and I sat there straddled over him. So when I drew my nails down his chest he couldn’t do anything but scream. And when I pulled his ribs apart he couldn’t do anything but scream. And when I plucked out his heart and lifted it to my lips…
After we had finsihed playing we washed in the river until we were as pink and fresh as when we were born. And when we told our mother, that evening, she smiled at us and hugged us all.
“My lovely daughters. My lovely Rusalki,” she said.
There are more roads now, and less forest. I have three daughters of my own, but things aren’t so easy as they were when I was young. There are soldiers, and there are friars, and it’s much harder to find people to play with. My skin isn’t as pink as it was and my hair isn’t as golden.
But I still have my memories. I remember how it was, how good it was, the first time. The feel of a beating heart in my hands, the warm, salt taste…
I’ll always have such sweet memories.
Brian Dolton’s fiction has appeared in Abyss & Apex, Flashing Swords, Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine, and Intergalactic Medicine Show, among others. He has been writing for many years, and will continue until they pry the keyboard from his cold, dead hands. PS If any of you know who the “they” in question are, he’d love to hear from you, so he can make suitable preparations.
Did you like this story?
A new and interesting story is posted every day.
A new and interesting story is posted every day.
Subscribe to the RSS Feed! (what is rss)
Don’t miss another story! Subscribe to Every Day Fiction via RSS.- Share on Facebook
Rate this story
27 Responses to “SWEET MEMORIES • by Brian Dolton”
Comments
« VICISSITUDE • by Bosley Gravel | Home | Interview with Guy Anthony De Marco »
March 14th, 2009 at 1:37 am
Chilly, Brian, and dark. Very good.
March 14th, 2009 at 3:23 am
Interesting. Are the characters human or some sort of fantasy being or is it supposed to be a mystery? Very interesting. 4/5
March 14th, 2009 at 4:07 am
Ooh, I like this one.
March 14th, 2009 at 4:13 am
Perfect horror flash.
March 14th, 2009 at 5:36 am
Nicely written, although I would have preferred a more traditional take. Ripping open the chest and eating the heart is a little over-the-top.
March 14th, 2009 at 5:42 am
I don’t know anything about spiders, except that the females are rumored to kill the males after mating. Although I don’t know and therefore must “reserve decision,” probably the females mate only once because in all known species of earthly animals any creature, male or female, who treats a mate or spouse with such disregard doesn’t last long her/him-self. Furthermore, the spider male would not be capable of multiple matings. Do female spiders kill mothers/daughters? As for the eating after killing, there’s no accounting for taste.
Just brush little spiders off your keyboard. They can be distracting, but I hope not fatal.
I had more to say about what little girls somehow “know,” but this story is about killing and offering such volunteered information of obvious partiality would not be welcome or acceptable.
March 14th, 2009 at 6:03 am
I kept wondering whether something bad was going to happen to them or they would do something bad. And, of course, I wanted to know what the heck they were. The mother’s comment brought it all together well. On a side not, the bio is hilarious.
March 14th, 2009 at 6:27 am
Ahhh…a wicked fairy tale with real life sickos. I liked the tone and the voice carried it well. FYI finished is spelled wrong.
March 14th, 2009 at 6:45 am
Excellent story. I love how the narrator can participate in such a horrific act and still maintain a somewhat melancholy gentleness. A very satisfying flash.
March 14th, 2009 at 6:56 am
Very dark and creepy, and a very smooth read (provides a lot of information without losing its pace). I really enjoyed this.
March 14th, 2009 at 7:06 am
Absolutely perfectly executed! A five from me! (And if I could’ve voted for it twice, I would have
March 14th, 2009 at 7:10 am
Told in the classic fairytale fashion. Nicely done. Nothing to distract from the flow of the story. I liked your use of the forest to begin the tale. Enough info to keep it moving and enough non-info to keep me guessing at what was going on. I think it would’ve been a little more traditional if the Rusalki had drowned him, but ripping him up worked well as their ‘game’ too.
Happy Rusal’naia!
March 14th, 2009 at 7:15 am
Nice turn of events! I kept thinking that the man was going to do something bad to the fairys, instead they dud something bad to him I love stories that switch up usual plotlines.
March 14th, 2009 at 7:57 am
Very enjoyable. I’d never heard of Rusalki before, though certainly their “Monster MO” is familiar. A well told tale.
March 14th, 2009 at 8:41 am
Even better now that I know this:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russalka
I am fairly ignorant concerning a lot of the fantasy stuff.
March 14th, 2009 at 9:27 am
You’re one scary dude, Brian!
That’s a five from me.
March 14th, 2009 at 11:00 am
Joshua Scribner – I can’t find the mother’s comment. She just changed the subject and turned away. If you mean her “lovely daughters” comment toward the end of the story, how does that pull it together?
March 14th, 2009 at 12:32 pm
Thanks to all for the comments; I’m very glad this one went down so well.
March 14th, 2009 at 1:59 pm
I enjoyed it!
March 14th, 2009 at 2:22 pm
Great voice and flow. Traditional faerie tale very well told! 5*
–dj
March 14th, 2009 at 3:44 pm
Enthralling tale, very well told. Love the atmosphere and the voice especially. A 5 in my book.
March 16th, 2009 at 1:30 am
I went through a Slavic folk tale phase after reading some Andrzej Sapkowski so it was interesting to see a Rusalka story. Shame you just hijacked the name and ran in your own direction. They seem more like pissed off Dryads of Ghillies, but what do I know.
The story just didn’t spark for me, but it was nicely written.
March 16th, 2009 at 1:31 am
(Dryad OR Ghillies) why can’t I edit my comments? This is a writing forum, all we ever do is edit things. Get on it.
March 16th, 2009 at 7:14 am
Gerard Demayne-
I like the idea of EDF recording the entire progression of the discussion without changes. Later emendations can be made by another entry. We are all subject to “wish I hadn’t said that” embarassments, so don’t worry about losing face at an error.
March 16th, 2009 at 11:13 am
Nicely Done! A surprise ending for me. Although i still didn’t get whether Rusalki is the youngest sister or the eldest.
March 18th, 2009 at 12:38 pm
Sumukh – “Rusalki” is the plural of “Rusalka”. See the wikipedia link provided by Fred in comment 15 above.
March 22nd, 2009 at 9:21 pm
You lured me into the story beautifully, Brian, and I liked the mystery and the horror. But the order of the sisters is confused–first you make it seem like the narrator is the youngest (He played it with my eldest sister first, and then he played it with my middle sister, and then finally he played his game with me) but then she becomes the oldest (But my youngest sister had hold of one arm and my middle sister had hold of the other; and I sat there straddled over him). Thanks for the read!