The Creature in the Case

Our narrator guides us through a strange, terribly popular zoo, finding solice from the busy streets of the city through the thin wire fences and eldritch exposes, until coming across a display wholly possessive in its nature. Something sitting behind a t

by Woodruff Laputka

I went out one early morning, curious to the word of so many, to visit a most strange and wondrous Zoo. My friend had spoken of it most highly, having been several times before, quoting its bizarre displays and atypical design. “Nothing like it.” “Terribly addictive and current.” I, taken so strongly by such oddities, agreed to go with him that very day, and took with him his coach out of the city, into the country and down the old roads, until all the traffic of the morning surges faded behind us, loudly. The quiet endured for a great many hours, till at last there was an array of black colored carriages and dark dressed persons before us, all flocking about the yawning mouth of a tall, black wired gateway that set at the top a great grassy hill which hid all that stood behind it from view. I inquired to my friend as to the name of the operation, but he looked at me and shrugged, for no one rightly knew. The place had appeared some 3 weeks prior, and word of mouth spread slowly about its location and queer content. We filed in with the massing crowd, the beating drum, the fanfare. Boisterous aristocrats and Contemplative, white skinned intellects, taken by the novel of the weird accounts that flooded from out the place, and to no names accountable, for the owners, so I was told, had yet to be revealed. I parted from my friend soon after he met with others he knew, for too many persons did he speak to. In my distaste, I wandered out for a time, passed the surging groups in talk, and into the displays of the eldritch Zoo.

In the front, behind the hill, an odd assortment of pens and clear, accordingly sized cases stood next to one another, holding various animals of no particular significance, while further in the back stretches were more eccentric displays locatable. Clumpy, fleshy aberrations which set or spun or turned, watched the gawking passers by from deep set eyes and cold white skin, oddly dressed in shambling clothes and old, dry rags and other things, and ever was I curious to see these, peculiar, misshaped bodies. Further back still did the displays get stranger, taking my interest by whole, for the specimens there held a sort of human quality to them, yet in such a way which repulsed and defiled the glances of all who passed by. But I was, still, intrigued quite greatly by these, and before long found my way in full circle, going back in again. And with every feature I returned to, I stood for a great while and studied, for I came to see them as sad, strange things, intruded upon by the unseen hands that built this queer assortment of stock, and left them there for the looking eyes of many the curious and scrutinizing.

It was by some uncertain time, now many hours sense my arrival, that I came upon a most strange and unusual creature, for like no other around was it in similarity, yet absolutely with the most uncanny sense of familiarity did it catch my attention to be known to me. It glanced at me for a moment, sadly, empty, alone. It looked as if forgotten by so much as time had went on, and I felt, as one, apart from myself when it shifted its deep, black eyes, like pools of space, to and fro, never flinching against the chill of cold winds which blew quite strong, and allowing its face to sit flat against the hard, cold glass of the case it was in.

Pale skin, old, sagging, skinny fingers, boney frame, like something of the dead, yet seemingly alive, functioning, though barely and but purposeless. I have never been so haunted as by the way it stared off, and gave a cry, though soft, as I noticed its odd shake of the body when aver the thunder bellowed from the grey clouds high above us. The others, the fan fare seers and garden seekers paid in great fear to the storm that moved in from the west, and though all was in black and grey, attire and landscape alike, I stood alone, yet with the company of that which set before me. Scratching my chin, I began to tap softly onto the glass, to find no response from it. The black rags which were draped about its scrawny, unfit frame seemed more as gauze, a death shroud, while this hapless creature set soulless; a perfect anti-character.

I tried to move my gloved fingers along the glass surface hoping to gain some sort of a response, but there was nothing. Its ears, small, yet buried greatly by a mass of great, grey wrinkles, twitched at nothing., and the veins on the skin of the great, bear forehead were blue, and cold. Yet, in my wonder and study had a slow, deep horror arisen in me, standing there while in my long black coat, my hair clean cut and my face well cropped. The similarity was uncanny once realised, and discomforted me to near sickness before it finally flowered in my mind as a hideous, malevolent trick of nature, undeniably real, for there it was, before me sitting quietly and in apathy. For there, at that moment could I see in the creature, a foretelling representation of me. Me! through unforgiving years and untold shackles, in a span I could not guess, though great indeed in distance from the youth I then possessed. When I was able to pull myself away from the tall, rectangular case, I searched in vein for one to tell me about the creature, weaving in and out of the complex byways of display cases and black wire fencing, from which beyond lies the vast southern fields of the central country. Everyone was leaving due to the weather, but this was not my intention. I could only go back to the case, and its occupant, ignoring the baying of the others for me to secure my ride before the rain came hard, as it seemed to do way off in the distance. My yearning for the background of the creature was so great, and every so often would I go about in search again, for someone to tell me what it was, yet always in vein.

I chose then, as I saw the storm turn away, though grey and cold was it still, though rightly a December weathered day, that I would keep in that one place for the night, before the presence of the sad, black eyed thing, and wait to perhaps procure information from whom ever must keep the animals of this novelty. The light faded eventually to the west, and in darkness and cold wind, I heard the ruckus of many of the other animals about in display, while the thing before me set quietly, and the wind beat and rattled against the wire fences and glass. I was warm in my coat, but tried not sleep, kept by the chilly wind that seemed ever present and wakeful, while its monotonous beating began to ware unto me, until my eyes felt heavily numbed, and my face felt cold and dead.

All the while the creature makes no noise, nor moves.

When I awake, the sun has already risen to its quarter level, to the east, and my mind spins of something great and heavy, and in my stupor, at first, am I too dumbed to sit in utter shock for what lies before me, for all the cases, the wire fence, and every notion to there ever being a zoo there has vanished, and I am left sitting on a grey hill, beneath a grey sky, cold, alone, and tired. How could this be, I do ask myself, for surely I had lasted a great while, and to that, regardless, the mass of the spectacle must have been far to great to have moved in a single night, and so quietly, too. I sit and dwell unbothered, for no one comes to bother me, letting the day go by and into night, and day again, to night.

Slowly, I feel old, and my eyes begin to seep deep into my head. I feel less inclined to move, and before long do my clothes turn aged, my coat stripping itself of splendor through the course of time, and my skin taking on the dim weather as if a character, a plague and an air. I cannot remember where it was that I came from, nor who I was, nor how I came. Only a presence now, seeing the sun set and rise again, always to the same, bitter coldness, unrelenting and never changing. A notionless, overwhelming apathy, watching myself, if anything, before the case builds itself, and I am no longer able to move, were I willing. Eventually, the fan fare seers and garden seekers come and watch as the others blur into presence, and something tall, lean and young, fare in face and dark in attire, presents himself in wonder, trying to speak with me while thunder rolls into my bones and causes me to shake in habitual bother though I give nothing, as nothing do I have to give him. Yet, he stays with me, as the people leave, wondering and keeping me company. I see that he runs off now and then, but always to return and always to look at me with a curious expression, bordering on the edge of real terror.

I see the sun going down and the dark of the night unfolding, and as the last, fleeting glimpses of light play upon my stone cold frame, I notice again the creature who sits before me, tiredly watching as if in search of something, sitting out beyond his capable reach. And when the darkness comes in full, and overtakes all site, a sudden flicker in my mind; an alarming familiarity, ignites an ever curious notion; the first ive had in ages, and the strange new thoughts of some unknown person begin to poor into my mind, unceasingly tormenting me, pounding my senses with alien visions, until I take it no more, and scream.

I awoke this morning from a most troublesome dream, alarmed and in a sweat, though I cannot recall the vision. It would be rightful to assume that the brandy before bed method is not one to be taken lightly, though ever do I find it helpful for my writings whenever it is this season, as troublesome is the cold weather upon my strength and spirit, and I feel a melancholy pressure working into my soul when ever the thunder rolls. I rise to my feet, and wash up for breakfast, when in comes my friend, ecstatic as ever, claiming that I must come with him this day, for he intends on going back to that strange assorted novelty that everyone is talking about. The Zoo, far out in the country. The oddest assortment of creatures, I am told, though where ever did they come from, no one knows. “Nothing like it” he says, “Terribly addictive and current.”