tales of Suchita

Ramshackle becomes aware of pain in its body. A voice whispers in its ear that it is hungry but it has no means to feed itself. It vaguely recalls a circus, of being formed out of nothingness, not there one moment and corporeal the next. If there is a story to how it got its name, it has forgotten it.

The voice, now urgent, whispers, you will hear a knock on your door in the next five minutes. You must be prepared. If you do not take this opportunity, you will forever remain in this state of almost aliveness.

The words make little sense to it but the idea of perpetually living with the pain makes Ramshackle stand up with a groan. It feels formless, like a lump of wet clay thrown on a potter’s wheel.

It needs…

Hands, and legs. You need to appear human. Hurry.

The voice that comes out of Ramshackle is rusty like nails put in a tumbler and shaken. “If you’re so clever,” it says out loud, “why don’t you do it.”

The voice shows it a vision. That’s how it knows it’s inside a house. It has too many questions but the hunger is gnawing and everything else can wait. Just as it feels cloth on its legs and arms, there are a series of knocks. Ramshackle ambles to the door, feeling more real as he opens it.

A child is standing in front of him. He has dirt smudged on his cheeks, the eyes are red-rimmed and his nose is leaking. His lips tremble and his eyes go wide as he takes in the form of Ramshackle in front of him.

Ramshackle says, “Welcome.”

The child straightens his spine as if gathering his courage and then blurts, “Rumour in the village is you grant wishes. Is this true?”

He cocks his head to one side and the house whispers, yes, that is your purpose of being. You grant wishes.

“It is.”

“What will it cost me?”

Ramshackle is about to say food. He has enough vocabulary, now that he has a form, clothes and a purpose, to articulate his needs. But the house interrupts him.

You need his soul, not food. Food will not sustain you in this state.

Why do I need his soul?

That is your purpose. To consume desire. To grant wishes, there must be an equal exchange.

And the equal exchange is their life?

It is. Not anyone can grant a wish, Ramshackle. You will learn this. But right now, you must listen to us.

You expect me to simply trust you?

We’re what is keeping you safe. If you don’t, you won’t survive.

How do you know this?

Hush. Deal with the child first.

Ramshackle turns his attention back to the child, who is standing patiently, waiting to hear the cost of getting his wish granted. So, Ramshackle tells him.

The boy accepts the cost and is allowed to enter the house.

And that’s how Ramshackle consumes its first soul. That taste of desire fills it with burning fire. It feels alive for the first time in the forty days it has spent on Earth. Once it feels full, it begins unlocking the mysteries of the house and itself.

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6 of 26 of an ongoing series The Dream Maker. You can read all posts here. Written as part of #BlogchatterA2Z.

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