Flash Fictions: Millennium Series

By Luke Negreiros

Millennium Flash ⚡ Fictions is a Collection of Short Horror Stories:

Ritze
A detective and his assistant investigate a mysterious disappearance and a series of cases of collective dementia involving the young people of a typical small town.
--
Guardians of Dagon
In a inhospitable region of a tourist island, Jelle struggles to protect his young daughter from the interests of a sect of worshippers of a monstrous deity that resides in the depths of the oceanic abyss.
--
The Book
A children's book reveals obscure and mysterious messages about an ancestral evil that plagues our reality. These are mysteries and magic that go unnoticed by innocent childlike eyes.
--
Tao
A young Buddhist's dream of joining a class of ancestral warriors who live atop Mount Sekku turns out to be more terrifying than the legends of the village that warned the population about the true fate of those warriors.
--
Cats of Altamira
When five merchants arrive in Altamira, they find the bland inhabitants living in constant apprehension; a regime of fear under the control of the true residents of that place.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luke Negreiros
• Release date: Mar 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215167731

Luke Negreiros

Autor independente, pós-graduado em literatura e artes aplicadas, foi professor universitário de redação e vencedor do III Concurso Cultural de Microcontos no Instituto Federal de Educação, Ciência e Tecnologia de São Paulo - Campus Araraquara. Nascido e criado no interior de São Paulo por quase toda sua vida, cresceu sob forte influência da ficção científica e quando adulto, seguiu cultivando o desejo genuíno em escrever suas próprias histórias.

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Millennium Flash ⚡ Fictions

A Collection of Short Horror Stories

Luke Negreiros

Photo by Jon Butterworth on Unsplash

Copyright © 2018 by Luke Negreiros. All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to living or dead persons, businesses, locations, or events is purely fictional and purely coincidental. Reproduction in whole or in part of this publication without the express written permission of the author is strictly prohibited.

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@Enzo. Sure!

TAO

01

< His name was Li Chang. Since he was a child, he spent his days with school obligations and household chores. Chomp! Nhoc! Nhac! Yes, he endured it all! >

Quow was the oldest in the village, begging among the inhabitants who were rescued on the night of the great catastrophe.

< Nhoc! Nhac! He helped his mother as much as he could. That was helping when he wasn't dead tired. On those nights, Chang had a taste for reading and, I remember, delved into the study of religion that involved those things that appear everywhere. >

Chang was fascinated by the philosophical and religious studies taught in China, particularly in their naturalistic school. The texts of Lao Zi addressed themes that included life and harmony with the driving force of all things. The texts found in his quarters paid homage to the immortals, known as the ancestors who invoked the forces of nature for immortality. Chang dreamed of these stories as a child, and now, at nearly 16 years old, these stories had taken on another dimension. What were once just legends of heroes and warriors now came to life in the famous class of soldiers who lived on Mount Sekku.

< They stay there. Two days' travel, on the exit of the Kwai river, towards the Sun.>

Mount Sekku was a refuge for soldiers, members of the legendary thousand-eyed army. A legendary military group that found, in the seventeenth century, its lowest point in popularity. Due to their reclusive habits, they soon fell into oblivion or were mentioned as legends and folklore. The very origin was unknown with imprecise information. However, the lack of records did not corroborate with the absence of the organization, given the traces of the sites that indicated obedience to a military hierarchy with specific training and a possible relationship with the Emperor of China. Some folkloric accounts still mention stories of people who had some interaction with this mysterious class of warriors.

The army had a reputation among the inhabitants of the village who lived at the base of Mount Sekku. The Toish village. In an inland village in Tohoku, the legends and mysteries of this class took shape and spread throughout Japan. The inhabitants of Toish still consider the soldiers to be men of high spiritual presence and honor. Beings worthy of the Taoist three treasures: compassion, moderation, and humility.

< And the boy was fascinated. I remember that. He was determined to join the army. And his mother, despite her worries, didn't have much to do! Right?! Going against the designs of -chi is not a very smart thing to do, is it?! Nhoc! Nhac! And so, he climbed up the mountain towards Tek. A lookout point that was halfway there. He said he wanted to join the army, and they told him to stay there. Ready and waiting!

On the third day, he was called and it was up there that I met him! >

02

< The Chang. The Chang from Musai. Son of Lin, descendant of Otaki, the family of weavers. His lineage was not of an impressive reputation. In fact, it had none! But that was just the way it was.

He was my direct supervisor. I adopted him and he adopted me. He arrived and just stayed. There was no permission. Only mine and his. I only gave him two and a half bowls of rice and a roof against the rain. The rest was up to him and his conscience.

I remember him starting in cleaning. He would mop the temples and then go from stack to stack. Cleaning everything; from the floor up to the walls. Where the wood curved in the beams. Glossy as ever! It was beautiful.

But the floor was always muddy. It seemed impossible to clean in time. When you finished at the end of the day, taking everything off all the floors. By the end of the day, the first stack would already be dirty again. In an endless cycle. >

The training was varied and heavy. The tasks were organized in such a way that they were impossible to complete. Thus, commitment was tested every day and the weaker ones never rose in the hierarchy. This behavior was guarded and no one confirmed or denied it. It was not spoken or written. The members simply got in line, imitating whoever was in front of them and followed the orders of their superiors. In the hierarchy, just above the cleaning servants sekitus, were the owners of the stacks, who also held the position of counselors. They were the first residents of Mount Sekku and kept some benefits such as entering and leaving the slopes reserved for high-ranking members. At this level there was a kind of captains and lieutenants, or any other rank they gave each other. No formal ceremony or handover of these titles has been confirmed. No record or formality. Only one passage was guarded: the Tōngdào; the transformation into a soldier. Despite this organization, there were several mentions and folk sayings from the residents of Toish, which pointed to soldiers as occupying the highest positions. A strangeness for today's days, but understandable and natural for that village.

< Yes. There were soldiers! In fact, this title came from the village. Not from them! They were called soldiers just because they were there. In a way, they were the heroes who carried swords and spears. If you want to understand it that way. Once a soldier of the army, there is no turning back. You die a soldier of the army of a thousand eyes. And Chang was good with the sword. Oh, he was!

I remember his first night of darkness. It was after a few full moons, when a great storm fell. The night was rainy for hours. I remember the thunderbolts that cut through the sky and passed over our heads. Ah! Yes. It was, indeed! >

03

< I know he got lost, because he didn't come back to my sakô. He must have wandered off into the forest, following the war cries. I remember the first time I heard them. What a sight! They sounded like sepukku screams and it left quite an impression on me. But that was a long time ago. Many years. It must have been the same for Chang.

I know he came back in the morning, tired and barely able to stand. But he was hiding. It was not permitted to wander around at night without your lordship. So, he waited and watched. That damn dog!

After a while, the soldiers emerged from the woods, coming down from Sekku. They had blindfolds over their eyes, you know? They looked like bandages to stop bleeding, but no! It was a lace covering. Thick enough to see through if you paid attention. And they all wore them.

They were pushing wheelbarrows. Iron ones, with one wheel in front. Because of the winding path, it was difficult to pass. And on top of the wheelbarrows... Ah! You had to see it. This shocked Chang, I'm sure. Not everyone can handle this kind of thing.

They were pieces of men. True pieces of what once was a man. It was what we would call soldiers' remains. You know when an unknown force attacks you and we say they were torn apart?! Well, here it was literal. They were chewed up with drool linking the solidest parts of the bones. The meat was black from the mud and the intestines piled up with the neatly divided sections. I've never seen such a huge mass of flesh. It was like it didn't like human stomachs! And the eyes. Ah, the eyes! They were special. They came piled up in front of the first wheelbarrow, a mound. A real pile, like a pyramid of eyes ripped out from the socket with the nerves hanging. Creepy! I shudder when I remember them staring back at me!

The secret of an old man is simple. Breathe through your mouth and use your peripheral vision, you know?! Never look directly at your work. Always from the sides and do the usual cleaning. >

The soldiers who carried the wheelbarrows were called Tuidong, and they faced a huge effort as they walked with the remains of their comrades. The first Tuidong approached, always slow but with a steady walk. He crossed the entire central path of the slope, and everyone stopped their tasks to pay their respects. His honor and the legend of the soldiers had always been intact because of men like him.

Soon after, another one appeared. Followed by another and another.

What was once just one soldier became six. The walk became a procession of Tuidongs. Each one more exhausted than the last, and they settled each with his own wheelbarrow. And the sekitus resumed their cleaning and medical care tasks.

< I remember Chang following these men. He was especially fascinated by them and always said there was no greater honor than becoming a soldier. In fact, it was true, but I always wondered what the price was for that. After all, every virtue has its price, isn't it?

Well, Chang must have met them halfway and followed them back. It wasn't difficult to get lost around here, as I said before. So, that must have been it!

Then he showed up at my door with wide eyes, as if he hadn't slept. Another impossible and somewhat unwanted sleep. If someone slept at that moment, they would have nightmares that would haunt their souls for a lifetime. He knew that. I knew it even more. And so he went straight back to his routine. Go boy! Don't even think about lying down! I said. I remember that day very well.

Stubborn kid. I'll tell you. And if you think that after that, the desire weakened? Not at all! It seems it only increased. The disaster.

That's when I started losing him! >

Chang Li volunteered to clean the military temple. The most important building on the slope, near Tek. It was where the remaining soldiers met and received medical care. Nothing was heard from them. They were quiet and gloomy like survivors experiencing true post-traumatic stress after a battlefield.

< And Chang didn't even keep quiet about that. He took some supplies for a night out. I knew he was up to something. But I kept quiet. Who am I to condemn someone's destiny? >

Taking advantage of the descent of the remaining soldiers; those who could still walk, Chang followed the group at a certain distance, so he wouldn't be caught.

The descent on the opposite side of Tek's slope was steep at first and then leveled off. The tall forest was merciless. It advanced along the trail with each rain that punished those soldiers. Despite the low visibility below the trees, the path was clear and simple to visualize. There was a kind of crease in the trees, as if they leaned out of the trail. Opening a path to the ground. A pit of death that led those dying to their certain fate, into the earth. The devil's stomach.

< Believe me, he went. On the way there were markings, drawings on stones and sometimes on wood. I had never seen such strange drawings before. It was the mark they spoke of. The point of no return.

It's hard to explain. The drawing had the body of what looked like a bird. Stocky, chest up. Huge beaks or claws. Disproportionate. But there was a different aura to it. Almost demonic. The eyes. They weren't painted. They had the texture of the stone or wood. As if they couldn't be drawn in any way, you know?! The surroundings were covered in black ink. They said the ink was the blood of the soldiers mixed with the earth that swallowed them. There was a name beneath the drawing. Three letters. No! Only two! And there was also a drawing, like a cross. The kind you see in Western Catholic churches, embedded in a horizontal line. What looked like the Earth, our existential world. And the word was Tu.

What caught the attention was a stain beneath the drawing. It had some round dots and a small line just below. Dozens of them. Which for me, looked like people, the soldiers of the army. >

Chang entered the soldiers' temple that same day and the night filled the monastery.

< And it was beautiful, despite the circumstances. I saw it once. I climbed up there, once. But I couldn't continue. And since I couldn't go back to the village... In fact, I didn't even want to. Face those people again. I kept myself busy with the tasks on the hillside. It took me a long time to come down to the village and in a way that no one could recognize or condemn me for leaving Mount Sekku. Anyway, it was beautiful there. If only... Well! >

The central courtyard was the training ground, right at the base of the staircase. An open area in the forest clearing. Paved with stone.

There were two rows of soldiers standing there, facing the staircase. With weapons in hand, holding them in front of their chests. The armor was complete, followed by war chants; a deep sound, made with the throat. < It was strange at first, but soon you felt hypnotized, in a trance with that mantra. Well, I remember why I left. I always studied and learned that Tao preached the preservation of life in all senses and that every life has its importance. But in that place, there was no life. They were just condemned, sentinels of the most infernal abysses of the cosmos. And I couldn't participate in that.

Anyway, I didn't want Chang to go through the same thing as me. >

The storm fell that night. Coming as suddenly as the heavy blow on the metal helmets. And the ritual began. The chants increased in volume and rhythm. Feet marking the beat, with beats on the ground. The air was filled with the clink of metal on stone in an exact cadence, orchestrated by the rumble of hidden drums.

The invitation was made. It was impossible to resist the call and with Chang it would be no different. Taken by curiosity and devotion, to a certain extent, he walked around looking for a way