Post date: Oct 29, 2011 9:37:40 AM
By Lingard Gamebrush
Craaaack !
*Lingard falls through the ceiling of Bag End in a cloud of dust and broken planks*
*He stands up, covered with dust and mud, and looks around him, terrified*
*He then starts to tell a story :*
Lazlo was holding the heavy rusty key,
not daring to use it on the old and dark door of the burrow.
Of HIS burrow now !
And what a burrow ! A true manor, had said the notary !
Lazlo had never heard of this uncle Draculo
before he receives this official convocation to get his heritage.
Admittedly, the Rushock Bog was a surprising place to dig such an imposing home,
but Lazlo was so poor that he couldn't decently turn his nose up at this detail.
He's now owner of a huge Burrow !
The key easilly turned the lock,
and the door moved on its hinges with a sinister creaking.
The place was cosy and quite luxuous,
if not for the ubiquity of the musty smell.
Afer visiting the main rooms,
Lazlo had a light supper with what he has brought in his backpack,
as the burrow was abandonned since many weeks already,
and then he went to sleep in his uncle's bedroom.
The sheets were cold and damp, and the bedroom,
set in one of the deepest rooms of this maze,
became totally black once the candle blown out.
It's not long after lazlo finally fell asleep, that the sounds started...
They were... difficult to locate, and to describe...
a mix of scratches and... like if something was hitting some wall or floor... but far away...
Lazlo was trying to light the candle, but his poor hands were shaking in terror...
When he finally managed to get some light,
he went out of his bedroom, in the corridor, as silently as possible...
The sounds.. it was weird, they seemed to come from below, but dampened...
Far below ? How could that be possible ?
Lazlo decided that it would not be very clever to explore the burrow in the middle of the night,
only armed with a shivering candle and a nightcap.
The morning was already well eaten when he awoke,
not much rested from a bad sleep full of nightmares.
But Lazlo wanted to understand.
Maybe was there a rational explanation to these sounds,
and he would feel much better after finding out.
Lazlo started a systematic exploration of his new burrow,
trying to draw a plan and to find a way downstair.
There were really an impressive number of rooms.
Some totally empty, some others filled with a mess of ... anything, really...
But no stair, no well, nothing going down...
The next night, Lazlo was really decided not to sleep,
to be awake and aware if the sound started.
But he was so tired that after half an hour he was sleeping like a stone.
And then, the sounds started again...
Scratches, scratches... bang, bang...
like coming from some secret cave far under his burrow...
Lazlo courageously woke up, this time equipped with many candles,
and went exploring the dark maze of his new home.
After walking a bit everywhere,
he found out that the sounds were louder in the corridor leading to the bedroom.
But there was only a few doors there, all opening a simple room.
There was no stair, no gallery, nothing...
The next morning, lazlo was sitting at his breakfast without even eating it,
to busy studying the plan he had drawn.
'The solution is certainly in this corridor', was he repeating for himself.
He suddenly woke up and went exploring again the rooms of this corridor.
Nothing...
Although, he noticed something a bit odd :
His bedroom and the next room were small, and though,
their doors were quite far from each others...
like if in between, the burrow had not been dug...
Or...
After half an hour seeking in all the chaos, Lazlo found what he needed :
an old rusty pickaxe...
He started half-way between the two doors,
attacking the wall with as much rage as fear .
And suddenly... CLANG ! There ! it was sounding empty !
Breaking the wall as fast as he could,
he soon found himself in front of an old dusty door..
Why on earth, or should he say in earth, his uncle had walled this door in ?
But the notary had given him only one key, which was not opening this door...
Devoured by curiousity, Lazlo tried to dig a big enough hole in the door with his tired pickaxe.
It was and awfully difficult work, and it litterally took him hours to open a hole large enough...
Courage ! just a few more blows and...
Craaaaack ! Oh no !
The old pickaxe's handle had broken, and its head fallen through the hole !
'Bah, it should be large enough now anyway',
thought Lazlo, writhing himself through the hole in the secret door.
Lazlo lighted a second candle to see better.
'Ah ! i was right ! There are stairs running down, here !
Lazlo slowly climbed down, to finally arrive in a kind of cave,
quite big, cuttered up with the same uncredible amount of items than some rooms above,
but with much more spider webs.
What Lazlo could not know, focusing on his underground exploration,
is that the night had come in the meantime,
and as he was trying to progress in this dark mess, the sounds started...
From here, it was sounding slightly different, but still impossible to identify,
but the good thing is that it helped him to find his way till another door
in the opposite wall, happily half-open, this one.
Lazlo looked around him, seeking a weapon, something to defend himself.
All what he could find was an old rotten helm and a fishpole...
well, better than nothing...
Now armed and armored, Lazlo slipped into the opening
and found himself in what was looking like a gallery.
There was no masonry, it was just a simple tunnel in the earth.
As Lazlo was progressing, the sounds were slowly becoming louder,
but he had to walk for a long time before he could start to identify some...
how long was this tunnel ? and where was it leading ?
Lazlo was hearing now like some voices... and still something banging, but what...
A few minuts of walk and now he could hear like...yes, a kind of music...
It's at this moment that he noticed that the gallery was climbing up.
I will soon know ! he was now almost running,
but he stumbled and fell on the floor !
And the candles went off in the fall...
He was now in the total obsurity...
Well, no ! There was a faint light up there !
He had not noticed it earlier when the candles were burning.
Lazlo crawled the last meters and finally touched some wood...
he was on a wooden floor, and the light was coming from between two planks.
He crawled there and watched through the hole... and then he saw...
Monsters !
Dozens of monsters dancing and laughing !
Every kind of monsters he could ever imagine !
It's at this moment that the rotten ceiling gave away under his weight,
and he fell right in the middle of the monsters !
Full of dust and mud, he stood up, ready to defend his life,
but the monsters were applauding, and were yelling :
Lingard ! Lingard ! A story ! A story !
Lazlo had no idea who was this Lingard, and he knew no story...
but being anxious to please these monsters if it could save his life,
he started to improvise a story :
'Lazlo was holding the heavy rusty key,'
'not daring to use it on the old and dark door of the burrow.'
'Of HIS burrow now !'
'And what a burrow ! A true manor, had said the notary !'
Etc, etc..
Some information about the artist:
Lingard Gamebrush was born in Waymeet, in one of those colourful caravans.
Very early in life, he fell in love with nature, especially the woods. He soon started to use the fallen branches he found to make little figurines to play with. The next stage was to sculpt wood, and from sculpture to painting is just one step, one which Lingard has taken recently.