A Bonnie Death

A Story by Jaysun

short story about a young man who stumbles into a bar on a storm-filled night in Scotland and is befriended by 3 patrons. He learns the story of the mythological Lorelei and seeks it out.

The night was tempestuous, the lightning arced and spread like malevolent tentacles in the blue-black sky, the thunder bellowed as angry demons, and the rain fell like the beginning of forty days. The dark of the night itself stank like menace and plague.

The screaming wind sucked the wood door shut with an ear-splitting BANG! The few patrons sitting at the bar and in the ratty booths in the dimly-lit tavern all turned-their heads and stared in silence at the rain-soaked intruder.

Jeremy, ignorant of the narrow-eyed looks, removed his drenched Indiana Jones fedora hat, slapped it against his thigh a couple of times, and hung it on a peg next to him on the wall. He slicked back his long black wet hair with a hand, then slipped off a heavy backpack and leaned that up against the same wall. Finally turning around, he caught the antagonistic air of the unwanted attention. His eyes darted back and forth, and finally with a forced smile said...

"I guess you're all wondering why I called you here tonight."

The eyes stayed narrowed and staring, as a deafening crash of thunder shook the small tavern, and lightning flashed outside the one window and momentarily lit up the suspicious faces inside. Finally, a single voice came from the last booth in the rear of the room...

"Laddie, looks like you could use a drink."

Jeremy looked over and saw an arm waving him over. As he slid in on the ripped vinyl bench with the three other men, the rest of the staring eyes in the tavern turned back to their own business, and the muted conversation resumed where it had stopped before the distraction.

The man opposite him, with the goatee, raised an arm and shouted to the bartender...

"Duff, four whiskies!"

Not a whiskey aficionado, and considering his somewhat brusque-looking companions, Jeremy decided it was better not to argue.

"Ma name's Brodie," offered the goateed man. He jerked a thumb to his right...

"This here's Calder, and next to you, that's Evander." None of the men offered a handshake, but Calder grunted a greeting. Evander just stared down at his empty whiskey shot, thumb and forefinger turning the glass round and round.

"My name's Jeremy. Glad to meet you guys."

Duff showed up at their table and slapped down four whiskies in Hatch shot glasses, neat.

Brodie picked his up...

"Ay, the water of life. Dram up, gentlemen!"

Jeremy pumped his down, and stifled a cough. Brodie and Calder slammed their glasses down. Evander was already fingering his empty glass round and round.

"So, laddie…" Brodie asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "What brings ye to Stonehaven oan a nicht like this?"

"Actually, sir, I'm just traveling around Scotland, always wanted to see it. I heard a lot about Dunnottar Castle and wanted to check that out. But, Christ, I didn't expect the weather to suddenly turn like this! Caught me by surprise!"

Calder asked, "Where ye from, laddie?"

"Canada. Guelph."

Brodie laughed, "Hah! Ah pat down money ye'r an American!"

Calder leaned over to Brodie. "Ya owe me wan pound."

"Yeah, well, we all do look alike, I guess." Jeremy said.

A bang of thunder again shook the whole tavern and, simultaneously, a bolt of lightning exploded the one window outwards, the demon wind rushing in and knocking over several bottles of whiskey off the back of the bar shelf, flinging glass and liquor in all directions.

Duff ran over to the window, and with the help from a couple other patrons, picked up a readied piece of board and nailed it up against the hole in the wall.

"Should hae done that afore the Wasula!" laughed Brodie. Duff waved him off.

"Wasula?" asked Jeremy.

Brodie's smile disappeared, his eyes momentarily glancing over at Evander.

"A Wasula…" explained Calder, "in these parts, is a demon storm that throws a tantrum wance in every six months or sae afore the rise o' the Lorelei..."

"What's a Lorelei?" asked Jeremy.

"Tis a myth! Na mair than that!" Brodie abruptly interjected, his eyes flitting back and forth to Evander.

Then, straightaway, as if on some unseen cue, the demon storm outside stopped blustering. The thunder, the lightning, the wind and the rain ceased just like that, like someone had flipped a switch. The patrons inside the tavern, as if flipping a switch inside themselves, stopped talking...and the silence, along with some unspoken expectation, began to grow heavy...

"The Lorelei ain't na myth." murmured Evander under his breath, still turning his whiskey glass round and round.

Calder added, "Evander's brother 'ere was found dead oan a rock by the River Dee six months ago. A rock that is said the Lorelei sits oan after the Wasula comes, brushing her golden locks, awaiting her neist sittin' duck. His throat and neck wis punctured, mair than once. 'N he wis ripped 'n torn from the neck up 'n drained o' all blood,"

Just then, interrupting the silence and Calder's explanation that everyone in the tavern had been listening to, came the most ethereal and magical tones Jeremy had ever heard in his life. Someone, a female, was singing afar off in the surrounding woods...and such beautiful angelic notes that Jeremy felt he had no choice but to listen. The notes, wafting into the tavern as if it had no walls or windows, felt like the softest velvet, offered the sweetest solace, and begged the most urgent of invitations.

The rest of the patrons in the tavern turned their heads and did not speak or move. One of them began to weep.

Evander continued where he left off, under his breath, never looking up and spinning his whiskey glass just a little faster...

"Fair 'n enchanting is her song. Tis said na man kin resist that song. Whin they come tae her, tis said thay fin her sitting oan a rock by the water, brushing her golden locks wi' a golden comb."

Evander paused… "Tis that man's last view o' life."

"Ah say tis still a myth! So caught up in that fairy stoory, the killer is still oot thare!" an insistent Brodie maintained.

Evander's shot glass rose and slammed down upon the table, breaking in pieces and bloodying his hand. His leaned over to Brodie...

"THAT FAIRY STOORY MURDURRED MAH BROTHER, YE SON O' A BOOT!"

Brodie put his hands up, and Evander leaned back in his seat, his eyes cast downward, and started to pick the glass out of his hand.

Meanwhile, the song of the siren began to infiltrate Jeremy's heart, and he knew what he had to do. He turned his head to Evander...

"I am truly sorry about your brother, but you can't just sit here and not find out the truth! I'm going to follow that song and bring someone to justice. Your brother's justice!"

"A'd advise against that." offered Calder, "Don't let whit yer hearin get tae ye. Most o' us hae learned tae ignore it."

Brodie just stayed quiet, figuring he'd done enough damage. Evander just continued to pick at his hand.

Jeremy got up and went to the door. He placed his damp fedora on his head, slipped his coat on, and hoisted up his backpack.

"Son," said Duff, standing behind the bar, holding a dustpan of broken shards, "A'd think twice aboot whit yer doin'. Evander's brother ain't the only one tae fall. Plenty others."

"Thanks, guys, for the drink!" Jeremy waved to his bench mates. He opened the door of the tavern and stepped out into a calm and beautiful night, the song of the siren even more alluring to his ears.

He banged the door shut behind him.

***

The Wasula left the night cool and fragrant. The moon rose high and full and cast a silvery illumination that made Jeremy's path through the forest easy to traverse. The song of the Lorelei was easy to follow, and as he did, Jeremy felt his heart expanding and already embracing the source of the mystery, while at the same time he also knew he was probably on the trail and tail of a probable killer. To reconcile the dichotomies was too difficult, so better to focus, he reasoned, on the tonal beauties of the musical notes rather than blacken the interest in thoughts of meeting a murderer.

As he walked, Jeremy thought he could actually see the lines of the enchanting music undulating in the air before him, like phantom heat waves, and instinctively followed that without question. The siren's song did not falter and continued to attract and lure his ears and his heart, but now he could also hear the sound of moving water intermixed with the sound of the angel's voice.

When Jeremy turned a bend in the forest path and stepped out on the banks of the rushing River Dee, there she was. A slanted single shaft of the full moon's light shone fully on the Lorelei, sitting on a white rock by the water, her legs extended and crossed at the feet, and fully gowned in a sheer silver garb. She was slowly combing her long golden hair with a golden comb, her face turned to the water, her voice in song a bell and a balm to every sense Jeremy knew inside of him.

"Surely, this is no murderer!"

He slipped off his backpack, dropped his hat on the ground, and approached slowly, silently, cautiously.

When he was no more than 20 feet behind her, the song of the Lorelei stopped...

"Jeremy."

His feet froze, his heart beating fast. The Lorelei turned her head, and rested her hands in her lap, still holding onto the golden comb which flashed in the moon's light.

Her green sparkling eyes were almond shaped that were complemented by perfectly arched brows. A heart-shaped face was accentuated by defined slim cheeks, a delicate chin, and full sensitive lips. Her face, as was the rest of her, was perfectly proportioned, framed as well by hair of rich golden color that flowed in waves to adorn her glowing porcelain-like skin.

Jeremy had never before seen such exquisite beauty.

"I've been expecting you...Jeremy." And she beckoned him to come closer with one finger.

Jeremy sat on the stone beside her and was overwhelmed with the magic of her scent.

The Lorelei placed two hands on his shoulders and came near to his face. She spoke in a breathy hush into his ear...

"I've waited such a long time for you. Have you waited a long time for me?"

She cupped his chin and drew his face close to hers.

Jeremy, breathing hard, whispered...

"All my life..."

She let him feel the warm breath of her mouth fan across his mouth and enter hotly between his parted lips, teased him with an agonizing closeness for just a moment, and then allowed those lips to touch her own.

Jeremy closed his eyes and savored the softness. His mouth opened to let her in, at the same time he barely felt the puncture of the cold and finely-edged golden steel tines of her comb enter deeply into the back of his neck.

As the keenly spiked points penetrated through his flesh and tendon and spine, her tongue, now inside of him, split into two pointed barbs and brutally slammed out of both ears, one barb turning up and burrowing into the top of his head into his brain, the other barb twisting round to his back and entering his spine.

As Jeremy's brain matter and vital fluids were being sucked out of him like a straw greedily sucking on some life-giving nectar, his last thoughts and feelings were of the purest and most sensual sensations he had ever known. The next day they found his body sprawled upon that white rock, drained of all fluids, a smile hanging on his bloodied and mangled face. Just like they had found Evander's brother six months afore, and everyone else afore that.

Each had solved the mystery of the siren's song. And each had taken the answer to that mystery with them to their deaths.

Happily.