April 17, 2011

The Drunk Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was

[...Posted by Ted H]

Its fairy Tale time, kiddies! this one goes out to my old roommate, whos prolly drunk right now...


[The Drunk Who Went Forth to Learn What Fear Was]

Once upon a while ago, in a small nowhere village in a place no one cares to look for, lived a young drunk who with the exception of one particular trait, was just like everyone else you would meet. He didn’t have any unnatural strength or special abilities. He didn’t have a high intellect, he was actually quite naive and stupid. In fact, there was no redeeming characteristic about him at all. But it wasn’t what the drunk had that makes him unique, but what he didn’t have. He didn’t know what it was to feel fear. He wanted to, but he lacked to motive to actually try to learn, choosing to instead drink and inhale his mind altering herbs.

Every night the drunk would walk down to his favorite bar and drink all night, uttering the same line “If I could but shudder! If I could but shudder!” On one particular night, the bartender overheard the drunk’s muttering. “What is this you’re babbling on about, boy?” he asked. The drunk looked up and said “I don’t know what it is to feel fear. That is all.”

“You wish to learn fear?” a shady man in dark cloths and sunglasses said from the corner “Then go into the cellar.” The bartender shook his head. “I refuse to let this young man just stumble off to his death in the cellar.” With that he walked over to the shady man “Why don’t you go down there instead?” he said as he pointed to the cellar door. “Because I do not wish to shudder!” the shady man said sarcastically.

“What is so scary about this cellar?” the drunk asked as many people around began to take notice and listen in. “We lock you down there until the witching hour,” the shady man said “No one has ever survived and most usually pound furiously on the locked door and scream bloody murder until whatever they’re trying to escape kills them.” The drunk stood up and walked towards the cellar. “Will I learn what fear is?” he asked as the shady man and bartender walked up with him. “That and more. Though few last more than an hour down there,” the shady man said with a smile as he swung the doors open.

There was much cheering for the drunk as he descended the steps down into the dark cellar. He could hear various bets being placed on whether or not he’d survive. He was not afraid though as he continued down the steps saying “If I could but shudder. If I could but shudder.” He looked back up to see the bartender swing the doors shut and lock them, just as he heard the village church bell ring once.

The cellar was dark and there was a dripping noise somewhere. The drunk felt around until he found a candle, which he lit. When the room lit up the drunk heard a loud wailing like someone was being tortured. “What is that noise?” the drunk asked wishing it would stop because he found it annoying. “Who is wailing. Come show yourself!” he called.

With that a ghost materialized right in front of him and continued wailing. “What is wrong that makes you wail so?” the drunk asked a he took out some of his mind altering herbs and started smoking. “I’m going to strangle you!” the ghost screamed. “That’s not very nice.” the drunk said as he blew smoke towards the ghost. “Die!” the ghost screamed and made for the drunk’s neck, but he quickly dodged and walked towards the other end of the cellar with his candle in hand. “You can just sit in the dark if you don’t want to play nice,” he said as he continued to smoke. The ghost tried a few more times to strangle the drunk but kept failing, mainly because it was catching a second hand high and was easily distracted now.

The ghost soon became too lazy to try to kill the drunk and was now more hungry than anything else for some reason. Without a word it floated through a wall. When all the commotion ceased, the cellar door unlocked and the shady man stuck his head through to see. “Still alive are we?” he asked to which the drunk responded. “Yes, but I still haven’t learned what fear is.” The shady man laughed. “Don’t worry.” he said “You will. Few last an hour, and only the bravest last two.” the shady man they closed and locked the door, leaving the drunk alone again as the village church bell rang twice.

For a while it was silent and the drunk could only watch his candle melt. He felt sleep coming upon him just as a loud crash sounded from a door on the opposite side of the cellar. Shaking sleep from his eyes, the drunk wondered what could possibly be behind that door. He walked over to the door and opened it, and something large jumped out and pushed him to the ground as it passed.

The drunk got up and looked to see that it was a werewolf that had been behind the door. It was covered in thick black fur and had blood dripping from its fangs. “Awe, good doggy!” the drunk said to which the werewolf bellowed out a long howl which would cause any man’s blood to run cold, except the drunk only laughed and wondered “Do you know any tricks?”

The werewolf only growled and tried to bite the drunk. Annoyed, the drunk kicked away the werewolf before it could bite him. “If you can’t play nice, then forget it.” he said. With that he grabbed the werewolf by the tail and tossed him back through the door and closed it. The werewolf tried to break though, but the drunk had propped his body against the door and didn’t budge. Eventually, the wolf gave up and left the drunk alone.

The shady man opened the door and slowly looked down. “Are you dead yet?” he asked. “No!” the drunk called up “And there still isn’t anything to fear down here!” The shady man only laughed. “Patience and you’ll find fear. Few last an hour down here, only the bravest last two, but no one survives all three hours!” The shady man then disappeared and closed the cellar door.

The village church bell rang three time in the distance. The drunk sat alone in the dark as his candle melted down and extinguished. “If I could but shudder. If I could but shudder.” he said to himself until he felt something grab his foot. He looked down to see hands reaching up from the dirt floor of the cellar. “What the hell?” he said as he stepped back and watch a dozen zombies pull themselves up from underground and surround him.

“Who are you?” the drunk asked, annoyed by his unwelcome guests. “We are who came before you,” one zombie said “And now we come to eat your brains!” With that the zombies closed in to eat the young drunk. “I don’t think so.” the drunk said “I don’t think I’ll enjoy being eaten and besides, I’ve come here to learn fear and you zombies aren’t helping.”

The zombies ignored him and moved in to kill the drunk, who was quite angry at this point and started punching the zombies in the face. The decaying zombie heads didn’t hold up long to the drunks punching and soon all the zombies were dead. The drunk even took the time to put them all back underground where they came from.

The cellar door was opened, and the drunk emerged alive and well, and there was much rejoicing. Much money was exchanged as result from the before mentioned bar bets that were made. The young drunk drank up and later coupled with a young woman who decided to give him a special reward for his bravery.

This would be the end of the story except for the fact that the drunk still did not learn what fear was. This problem was remedied a couple weeks later when that woman he coupled with returned to him and uttered four simple words. These words shuttered the young drunk down to the bone and filled him with such fear and despair that he ran screaming from the village and never returned. These four words were:

“I missed my period.”

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