The Ghoul from the Fashion House

(Óïûðèøêî èç Äîìà Ìîäû - àíãë. âàðèàíò)

A horror story for evil spirits that was told in a Hallowing night

By Igor Kholodenko, 2007

(The story based on Eastern Europe urban folklore and oriental fairy tales)

In one small town on the middle of Eastern Europe has lived a ghoul*. In appearance, he didn’t even look like a ghoul. He walked streets during a day because he was half-ghoul, half-tree goblin (his mother, a tree goblin, until she gone, lived with a city vampire). The ghoul looked like a nondescript little man, the kind of guy you would see on the street and not pay attention to. He worked as a blood transfusion technician at a local hospital. Why there? And where else can a ghoul work nowadays? He lived in the basement of a Fashion House, and in the same Fashion House he worked as a night watchman. That old mansion has become a Fashion House only in modern time. A hundred years ago one famous vampire doctor lived there, and after there were the basements of a local dictator’s secret service. So, the place for the ghoul was just perfect. In appearance, it was an ordinary semi-basement apartment, and only the ghoul knew what horrors had happened there before.   
*A ghoul is a creature who is related to a vampire.
   Sometimes, during fashion shows, the ghoul seeped through the wall and with enjoyment looked at the half-naked girls parading around the stage. But what attracted him to them wasn’t the same, that usually attracts men. Looking at the girls, the ghoul, in his imagination, each time dug in his fangs into their tender necks. Of course, in reality, he would not dare to do this. He was a bit of a coward, and also the people today have become literate: almost everyone walks around with amulet, small icons or similar protection. Besides, the ghoul didn’t want a vampire woman to appear in such a small town. “She will not stand on ceremony with men. Women are unrestrained creatures,” thought the ghoul, “If such a person would bite to death couple man, people will catch her, and she will give me away. No, no, my life is quiet, measured, there is no need to take any risks.”
***
 But then one day, in the fall, the ghoul saw on stage such a beautiful girl with such a chiseled neck, that he lost control of himself. The ghoul suffered for a week, then finally made up his mind and decided to break all his rules. He put on himself an image of a handsome guy and approached before that beauty girl. He clouded her brains, clouded her eyes, began taking her to restaurants, shows and so on, confessed his love. But in reality, he still waiting for the moment when he could grab her neck with his fangs. And the moment had come. It was on the last day of October. He brought his young lady to his home. He drank with her a couple of bottles of champagne, and when she got drunk and fell asleep right in the chair, he sunk his fangs into her tender neck. And as soon he did so, he immediately fell down unconscious.
   When the ghoul came to his senses, it was already dawn. The ghoul's head hurt terribly. He stood up with difficulty and wandered to the refrigerator to make himself a Bloody Mary. On the white refrigerator door was written in red lipstick the following: “Honey, I’m rushing to work. See you in the evening. Kisses. Your N.” The ghoul chuckled with satisfaction. “Yesterday I had drunk so much, that I didn’t achieve my goal. Well, that’s okay, I’ll make up for everything today.” He licked his lips and felt the familiar salty taste of blood on them. “Did I really forget how I drank her blood?”. The ghoul was very surprised. “I drank champagne, and she drank. It turns out that in addition to the champagne I drank, I also drank her blood with alcohol. It’s not surprising that I was so knocked off my feet. But it’s ok, now I'll be smarter."
    The ghoul opened the refrigerator door, bent down to take out vodka and a jar of blood, secretly taken from the hospital, and then felt that his neck was very sore. He rushed to the mirror and was horrified to see two neat red holes on left back of his neck.
   The ghoul was scared to death. He dropped everything and rushed to an old cemetery in a neighboring town, where in an abandoned crypt lived an old vampire, his paternal uncle.
   ***
   The old vampire mockingly looked at his frightened nephew, who could not understand what had happened.
   “And I told you”, growled the old vampire. “I told you, that you have to learn our family mastery: read books on ghoulism and vampirism, attend congresses and symposiums in Transylvania. But you only watch your girls. This is all reckless wood goblin’s blood! Oh, what a fool was my brother, when was involved in a relation with that wood goblin woman, oh, a fool...”
  “But, uncle, uncle, tell me, what should I do now? After all, that we ones who drink blood, but I’ve never heard about anyone who is drunk our blood." 
   “You are still young and stupid,” said the old vampire. “If you had listened my advices and studied, you would have known that there are special pheromones on the skin of a woman in love.”
   “Special, what?”, asked the ghoul.
   “Pheromones, you idiot. Such special substances, the smell of which attracts people to each other. They don't affect us. But on one day of the year, on the night of the Great Halloween, these pheromones acquire magical powers. If a vampire or ghoul bites a woman who in love with him, these pheromones enter her blood, and then she turns not just into a vampire, but into a vampire of vampires. And she drinks only the blood of vampires and ghouls. But most of all she prefers the blood of the one, who turned her into a vampire.”
    “So, now she will drink my blood?”, the ghoul asked with horror in his voice.
   The uncle nodded.
    “She will. Certainly. And there's nothing you can do about it.  But, my stupid nephew, there is one way to save you. In the North-East, beyond the far horizon, in Trickania, live on so called king, small and short minded man, who has root of nine powers. If you'll get that magic root, will brew a decoction from it before the next full moon, and will give that decoction to drink to your beautiful lady, you would rid her of vampire power and would save yourself.”
   No sooner said than done. The old vampire drew a magic circle. He placed his nephew in center of it, muttered spells and throwed a handful of lichen wind-bearing tobacco into the circle.
   “To come back, say - om, om, om, I want to go home...” growled the old vampire.
Just the old vampire said that, when a whirlwind came out of nowhere and carried the ghoul beyond the far horizon.
   ***
   The ghoul appeared right in front of the Trickan’s king. Although, in truth, that king was not a king, but an ordinary dictator. The powerful leader of Trickan’s was sitting in a luxurious armchair in his palace, bored, thinking about how he could have fun today. Should he smoke more hashish, or hunt the oppositionists with tame jackals?
   Seeing the ghoul, he was not even surprised, as if he had been waiting for him.
  ‘Who are you and what are you doing here?’ - asked the dictator.
   “I am a wizard, from distant lands,” answered the ghoul. “I learned, O Great One, that boredom has overcome you. So, I came to amuse you.”
  (You can ask how they understood each other? It’s very simple. After all, evil spirits speak any language that exists on Earth.)
  “And what do you want as a reward?”
   “People say, that you have a wonderful root of nine powers. If I could look at him even with my one eye!”
   “Yes, I have such a root,” answered the dictator, “it is always with me, it is my talisman, and a guarantee of my power. It came to me from my great-grandfathers.”
   (I have to tell you, that the dictator lied, as usual. He took away the magic root from one shaman, and then his people executed the shaman, tying him to a tree in front of a large anthill.)
   “I’ll show it to you later. Now just entertain me first. Tickle my nerves.”
  “Okay, just give me first, please, O Great One, tea or coffee.”
   The dictator ordered to bring them the finest and rarest coffee. They sit, drunk coffee from cups as thin as rose petals, but the dictator can no longer stand it.
   “Well,” he says, “when are you going to entertain me?”
   “Wait,” the ghoul answers, “I’ll finish my coffee now...”
   Before he could say this, water began to flood the palace.
   “Let’s run,” shouted the ghoul, grabbed the dictator’s hand and they ran to the second floor of the palace. But water flooded the second floor, and then to the third and fourth floors.
   The ghoul and the dictator got out onto the roof. They had just managed to climb into the dictator’s personal helicopter and take off when the roof also disappeared under water. The dictator was watching how his helicopter was controlled by itself. An invisible force moved levers and switches toggle switches.
   They were flying to nowhere, and all around, as far as the eyes can see, there is only water and water. Suddenly the engine sneezed, stopped and the helicopter fell like a stone. The dictator turned white with fright and grabbed the ghoul. His voice disappeared from fear, and he wheezed:
   “Save me!”
   Suddenly the helicopter seemed to melt into the air, and the dictator and the ghoul found themselves in the boat.
   Soon the boat moored to the embankment of a large, noisy city. The ghoul and the dictator wandered through the streets and reached the local market.
   “Let’s go buy something to eat,” the ghoul suggested.
   “But we don’t have local money,” answered the king-dictator.
   “It’s okay,” said the ghoul, “you stay here, and I’ll think of something.”
   And he left. The dictator stayed on the middle of a big market, he smelled different food, and his stomach gave out. “Oh, if I were able to return to my palace, dreamed he, I would order the table to be set with all kinds of delicacies.”
   And then one merchant approached him.
   “Listen, dear man, please, trade lamb instead of me for half an hour, and I will come back and thank you with good food.”
   The dictator agreed. He stood at the table covered with a white cloth. He just wanted to lift the canvas and look at the goods, as if out of nowhere, the local police.
   “What are you selling?”
   “Meat. Lamb.”
   “Come on, show us this lamb.”
   The dictator threw back the canvas and turned white with horror. On the table were lying human heads, arms, legs...
   “Ow! That’s what kind of meat is this,” one of the policemen shouted, “Take him!”
   They dragged the dictator to court and sentenced him to death for trading in human flesh. Although the dictator swore up and down that he had nothing to do with it, no one believed him. They threw him into a cell and announced that they would execute him at dawn by throwing him into an abyss.
   Early in the morning they came for the dictator and led him to execution. The police brought him to a precipice and walked away, waiting for the herald to read out the decree of execution. The dictator looked around. Looked, and the ghoul was standing behind him.
  “Save me!” - the dictator shouted to him.
   And the ghoul quickly answered:
   “Give me the root! The root of nine powers! And hurry up! Otherwise, we both will die!”
   The dictator pulled out the magic root in a brocade bag from his bosom, the ghoul grabbed it, quickly said:
   “Om, om, om, I want to go home”, and immediately disappeared.
   And what happened with the Trickan’s dictator – you can guess yourself. I will say only one thing: the ghoul, without wanting it (whatever he was, but he was still an evil spirit) did good things for the Trickan’s people.
    ***
   The ghoul found himself at home. Without wasting time, he rushed to the kitchen and began to prepare a decoction of the root of nine powers. The same evening, under the guise of new sort of tea, he gave this decoction to his passion.
   Waking up in the morning, the ghoul again felt pain in his neck. He rushed to the mirror and saw the same two neat holes on the skin of his neck...   
The ghoul left on a kitchen table a note: “Sorry, I urgently left on a business trip,” and rushed headlong out of his apartment... For two days he hid in the basements, and then again went to his uncle for advice.
   “So, the magic root didn’t work,” said with a sigh the old vampire. “Apparently his strength has depleted over the years.”
   “Listen, uncle, maybe I should run away to somewhere?” whined the ghoul.
   “You should have thought before,” answered the old vampire, “if you would have waited for a day or two until November, then everything would have been calm. But now, no matter how far you will run, she will eventually find you everywhere. Now she has a great flair, and it’s exclusively for you. If you will stay home, she will be drinking your blood only little by little. But if you’ll decide to run away, it will only get worse - she will get hungry, and when she finds you, she will drink so much of your blood, that you will immediately drop dead. So, come back, nephew, and don’t even think about telling her about me. Otherwise, I’ll rip your fangs out!”
   There was nothing to do, and the ghoul returned home. He entered his apartment and did not even have time to close the door behind him when there was a knock. His passion girl stood on the threshold.
 “How I missed you, honey!” screamed she and threw herself on the ghoul’s neck…
    ***
And they lived happily ever after.
But people could not understand how such a homely little man could attract such a beauty to himself. Some said that he had a kind soul, but evil tongues were wagging, saying that he bewitched the beautiful girl and gave her a love potion. No one knew the truth, and no one will know. The true now only for you known.


Afterword
About the main character. Word “ghoul" originally came from Arabic folklore, and this story originated on Eastern Europe folklore. Unfortunately, there are no words with similar meaning in English, and closest one that I found was word "ghoul". Originally for this story were used such creatures as “wurdulac” (“wurdalac”), “upior” (“upir”) or “(ubir” - Turkish), leshiy and so on, but because these creatures (and words) not familiar to English readers, they were replaced by the author.


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