Chadam Collection - Brother

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Another strange tale from the Chadam collection. However it should be noted that this story does not directly at all reference the town. Perosnally though I feel it belongs in the collection because it fits right in with the strange and bizarre things that happen in and around the town.

Also, excuse the strange title. The story's real name is "Brother" but that title was already taken so I had to use the one you see.

As always, enjoy.

Submitted: June 03, 2008

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Submitted: June 03, 2008

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The horror of which I am about to explain to you may not be easily digested upon first reading. In fact it may never be truly digested and understood for not even I could believe what had happened. I have always been skeptical about the supernatural and paranormal and but my brother, Boris, was a devout believer in such things. Fanatical almost, he belonged to a cult which I dare not name out of fear for my life. He began his occult studies in his late teens. Boris had always tried to bring me into it but I never bought into any sort of organized religion, let alone occult fanaticism. We had a stressed relationship not doubt. He resented that I did not support or like the things he was doing with his life. He had devoted his life to this Cult he belonged to. Every penny my Father gave him after his untimely death and whatever money he gained swindling (converting he called it) others to his cause went into the coffers of the Cult’s leader, Joseph Mason.

The funny thing about all of it was that I knew Mason. I knew him quite well. We shared the same room for four years at Wellington Preparatory Academy. I always considered him to be a level headed fellow, never one to go off and join some religious organization let alone start one of his own. I was never sure how Mason and Boris met but once they did they became inseparable. Boris had been brainwashed (converted he called it) by Mason into the teachings of his Cult. He even brought Mason home for Christmas dinner with mother, something her and I both found to be very offensive (myself especially). That Christmas was the first time I had noticed a significant change in Boris and his attitude about everything. I also found it rather odd that he, a devout Cultist, would celebrate Christmas. The dinner conversation was dead and still at first, or at least I found it to be. At last Mason began espousing the beliefs and righteousness (self-imposed righteousness) of his cult. I had figured my Mother would have been horridly offended by it, but to my shock she was engrossed with the conversation. Engrossed. My Mother was never engrossed in anything besides her books and the memories of my Father. I also noticed that she barley said a word to Boris the entire dinner. It was as if she was ignoring his very existence.

Months passed after that Christmas dinner and I never heard from Boris or Mason. I assumed that they had gone underground with their occultism studies and practices. It was not until the following February that I noticed a change about the people of our small community. More or more of them were bearing the symbols of Mason’s cult. Tattoos of skulls with snakes wrapping around the eye sockets were I all saw day and night when I wandered the streets. Besides that the people of our small community still were as friendly as ever, perhaps even a bit more so. Every person that I passed nodded at me or winked and all had the same smitten grin upon their faces. That dreaded day of love was just a week a way, so I deducted that for some reason everyone was excited about it.

Weeks passed again and nothing out of the ordinary happened. It was a cool April night when I first noticed the Cult’s church on the far eastern side of our small community. It was once a small catholic church, or at least I thought it was. But now instead of the golden cross that stood at it’s steeple a stone carving of a skull with a snake wrapping around its sockets replaced it. The doors, which at one point were solid oak and beautiful, were now black as the night and the once pristine stained glass was now bricked in making a singular foreboding building. It was towering and terrifying all at once. Even the grass and trees around it had died and were slowly withering back into the earth from whence they came.

My mind told me that I should turn and leave at once but my feet walked toward the building. It was as if I was unable to control my own actions. As I entered the church I saw a swarm of black robed individuals. All of the people of our small community were here and looking towards a painted image of Mason. I decided to lay low in the back of the church and waited to see what was happening. No sooner had I planted my feet did Mason emerge from behind red curtains of silk and out onto the altar. And then the strangest thing happened. He stretched his long, scraggly arm out and pointed at me. Me! I was confused and dazed all at once. Seemingly instantly the entire congregation turned to look at me and began chanting in tongues. Mason motioned for me to come forward. I resisted and ran out of the church as fast I as I could.

As I was running from that hellish place I noticed that I had seen Boris in there at all. Perhaps he had wizened up and left as well. At any rate I ran through our small community as fast as my feet could carry me. I turned to look back several times and when I was nearly home I slowed down and looked behind me again. As soon I as began forward again I ran into someone I was not expecting. Mason stood before me with the same smitten grin the rest of the town had been given me for what seemed like an age. And then all was black.

Now we come to it, the sheer horror and frenzy that I mentioned so long ago. When I awoke everything was dark and the air was so thick and heavy I was actually having hard time breathing. I was too frightened to move but I was also so uncomfortable. I laid still for what seemed like hours, still to afraid to move and too unsure to make a sound. At last I mustered the courage to reach into my jacket pocket and remove the single match I had been saving for my evening cigarette. I struck it against the lapel of my jacket and it lit up with no problem. What I saw then I will never forget. The feelings I had before had now been founded to the utmost degree. I was encased in a stone room with nothing more than a few inches between my sides and the walls. My face was but a hair’s length away from the roof and at this I began to panic and scream, beating my fists as best I could against the walls. No sooner had I done this did I feel the whole room shift to the side and then I felt a sweeping feeling of sickness in my stomach for the room seemed to drop. Above me I heard a familiar voice: Boris. He was speaking in the same tongues as the others. And again I heard yet another familiar voice: Mother. She took off where Boris had left off. Then there was silence. The most uncomfortable and frightening silence ever not heard by a man.

At last I heard mason speak. The words were muffled and distant but I heard him say words I will remember for eternity. ‘The rite has been passed. Welcome Brother.’ And then the feeling in my gut that I experienced before returned and it seemed that I was falling faster than an angel from the heavens. All at once the room, which I know knew, was a coffin hit solid earth and the stone beneath me cracked. My eyes widened to a full fledged bulge as I heard the sides cracking slowly from the impact. I heard a faint creaking above me and as I closed my eyes I heard the sides of my doom collapse.

Then, all was silent.


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