Twisted Traditions

 Living with Gran had been a fun experience. Ever since my parents started traveling when I was a child, I had lived with her. She was the parent figure I looked up to. Every year, I learned something new. She taught me traditions from various cultures. I happily went along, following behind Gran. 

Each lesson was something new, but it never felt as if I was learning the right things. I always wanted to learn the traditions from my family's culture, yet Gran never talked about them. I thought I could find information in her journals. She wrote about each cultural celebration, how to celebrate them, and the history for each one. 

I never found our own family’s traditions. I used to ask why we never celebrated them, but she always brushed it off, saying something along the lines of, "There's other cultures to learn from. Ours are ingrained in us. We do not need to celebrate them." I thought it was odd but after so long, I stopped questioning. I went along with it. I rationalized her words despite knowing nothing. 

It wasn't until after she died I had really thought about it. 

I had been the one to be with her on her deathbed, organizing the funeral, and making sure debts had been settled to her specifications. At the end of it all, I found myself sitting in her - my - house. Her first notebook rested in my lap, the front engraved with her name and the date she started the journal. This was the first journal that she had. It had been the only thing I had retrieved from the attic since her death. It was filled with traditions from when she was a child in Ireland. She wrote everything down, marking notes of her history. 

The journal was aged, with slightly yellowed pages and a worn cover. The leather was smooth and taut, I worried it would break if I mishandled it. When I found it, I was hesitant to even read through it. Gran had brushed off every attempted conversation about these particular traditions. She tried so much not to talk about it. I had let it rest in my lap, opened to the first page. 

"You should just read it," a voice said. A chill ran up my spine as I turned to the voice. I rolled my eyes as I turned away from him. He was sometimes a pest of a friend but had been there for me through so much. He had been the grandson of one of Gran’s friends. In turn, he became my friend. 

"You should just go away," I responded. I was waiting to hear the door close as he left, but I knew I wasn't going to be so lucky. I couldn’t help but crack a small smile as I realized he wouldn’t have left me alone after the funeral. I watched as he walked further into the room, leaning against the chair. 

Manon read over my shoulder, turning the pages. I scoffed as he started to flip sporadically throughout the book. “Hey, hold on! If you actually want me to read it, calm down,” I said, flipping back to the first page and slowly going over the pages.

“Hey what’s that?” he asked, pointing to a page about halfway through the journal. I frowned as I glanced at the drawing.

It was of a horse skull, the body looking humanistic but shrouded by a cloak. A garland of flowers laid across the crown of its head. The title read 'Maryi Lwyd'. There wasn't a lot of information written other than a small blurb. Gran’s handwriting detailed how the tradition of dressing with a horse’s skull as a mask supposedly led to a year of good luck. However, under the drawing were large, red words. 

‘Hide if close. DO NOT INVITE IN.’ 

There wasn’t anything more on the page. "No idea. But it’s Gran’s writing," I shrugged, tracing the pictured figure gently.  

Manon sat on the chair's armrest, causing me to slide over. "It doesn't look too bad. Why do you think that was put in?" he asked, taking note of the warning as well.

"No idea. We probably shouldn't think too much about it." I tried to flip to the next page, but he stopped me. 

"Wait, hang on!" he cried, taking the notebook from my hands. "This might be pretty cool to look into. There’s no info so why not?” I looked at him for a moment before shrugging. He fist pumped quietly before pulling out his phone.

It was a few minutes of him scrolling and typing before he held out his phone to me. "Look, here! I mean, the spelling is a little different with the 'y' not appearing but other than that, it's pretty much the same!" Manon smiled happily as he held out his phone. I glanced up at him for a moment before looking at his phone. 

It was a lot of the same information. There were some stories and some pictures, but it didn’t tell us something we didn’t already know. I hummed softly as I read the stories. The information was lacking and was more of people reiterating the year of good luck it brought. I frowned and looked up at Manon. “This doesn’t give us much more information.” He shrugged and turned the phone back to himself. 

“I mean, maybe, but I’m sure we can find something,” he said, going back to his phone. I watched him for a moment before going back to the journal. The drawing was almost alluring, but part of it was unfinished. Where the neck should have been was missing, as if intentionally left undrawn. 

It was a possible oversight from Gran, but she didn’t make mistakes. “Okay, so I might not have found a whole lot, but didn’t Gran have lots of stuff in the attic? We should go up there,” Manon suggested, smiling happily as he stood up and moved to the stairs. I sighed, not really wanting to go up there. I hadn’t been up there since after the funeral.

I reluctantly followed him up the stairs, leaving the journal behind on the chair. Manon was already standing at the top of the stairs, waiting for me to join him. “I don’t know why you’re waiting for me, you know I’m not gonna run to join you,” I said, purposely stopping in the middle to mess with him.

He stared at me, “I will pick you up.” I raised my eyebrow at him, scoffing as if silently begging him to try it. That was my mistake. He trudged back down the steps and picked me up in a fireman’s carry. “I told you I’d do it!” 

I groaned loudly, trying to will my body to drop into dead weight. It didn’t work. There was no way I was getting out of this. I relinquished, letting him carry me up the rest of the stairs to the attic. He set me down at the top of the stairs, flinging open the door and letting himself inside.

The attic wasn’t that big. Maybe about the size of a master bedroom. It seemed smaller, however, due to the amount of boxes and tools laying around. Before her death, the only reason I went to the attic was to stash something for Gran. It wasn’t visited enough to warrant organization. 

Manon set me down and looked around. “Where do you think it’d be?” he asked. I shrugged as I leaned against the wall, watching as he started to look around for some items. “Shit, everything in here is dusty.” 

“I mean, yeah, I haven’t been up here for a while,” I admitted, walking around with crossed arms. “Just to let you know, I don’t think this is a good idea. We don’t know what’s gonna happen.” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’m sure if it really was dangerous, Gran would’ve written that in the journal,” he rationalized. 

I hummed as I looked at the boxes. Some were already open. A few were filled with some books, all of them fairly old but neatly arranged. The exposed spines were in a language I couldn’t read. The just one box held a few smaller boxes. 

The smaller boxes stood out. 

I pulled the largest one out, setting it on one of the closed boxes. I peeked into the box but  paused upon seeing what was inside. I closed the box silently and started to set it back into the larger box. 

“Hey, what’s that?” Manon asked, startling me as he came over. He took the larger box out and opened it, smiling happily. “Oh shit! It’s the skull!” 

“I know,” I said softly, walking back towards the stairs. “Let’s just go watch a movie or something, I’m getting tired.” He put the skull into the larger box and followed me down the stairs. I headed into the living room, but he grabbed a hold of my shirt and pulled me outside.

The sun had set, but the lights from the house along with the full moon were still able to illuminate the snow covered lawn. I sat on the steps and watched as he set the box down. He began to pull out the skull and other boxes. 

In total, there were five  boxes. One held the floral crown, one a thin black veil, another contained a dark red ribbon, another the cloak. The last box held an axe with carvings on both sides of the steel axe head. The handle was made of dark wood, part of it wrapped in an aged leather. 

I watched as he grabbed a branched stick, propping it up and setting the skull on top, wrapping the veil around the head. He then placed the flower crown on top of it. Manon was about to grab the cloak to put it on as well but the stick began to slump to the side. “I don’t think that’ll work,” I advised with a small smile. “Gran’s warning was pretty explicit.”

He hummed in response. He adjusted the stick to make it stand upright, creating a pile of snow around the base to keep it stable. The mask, veil, and flower crown remained where they were placed. Finally, he added the cloak, using the ribbon to make sure the veil and cloak stayed on the stick. 

It didn’t look too bad. He looked back and forth from me to the structure, clearly looking for praise. I chuckled and leaned back. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I was wrong. That actually looks pretty cool,” I said with a small smile. Manon did a fist pump into the air before gathering the boxes, setting them on the porch. 

We both sat, admiring the figure before he piped up, “Hot cocoa and crappy movies?” I let out a chuckle, shaking my head at the sudden suggestion. Without saying more, the two of us went inside to relax to movies and cocoa. 

At some point, we fell  asleep. I woke  up to find  it was a few minutes after three am. Manon was asleep on the couch, his arm over his eyes. I grunted as I got up to find more blankets. 

I hadn’t even left the room before a noise outside caught my attention. I paused as I listened. I couldn’t tell what it was but it sounded animalistic. It was almost a crackling call, like the t-rex call from Jurassic Park. At first, I thought it might’ve been Manon but he was still asleep. Whatever movie currently playing was too quiet to make a sound like that. 

I frowned as I went to the window. Maybe it was just my mind playing tricks, but I  pulled the curtain back. Looking outside, I didn’t see anything alarming.

There… wasn’t anything outside at all. 

Every part of my body tensed up, my eyes slowly widening in realization. 

Nothing was there. 

The figure Manon built was gone. There was no sign of it being moved or it having fallen over. It was just gone, the pile of snow on the ground where the stick had been propped was  the only thing left.

I raised my eyes from the snow to see a pair of eyes staring back at me from the darkness. I let the sheer fabric close and took a couple steps back from the window. 

I backed up enough to hit the couch where Manon slept. I slammed my hand down on the rough back, not taking my gaze off the window. I patted around to find a pillow, grabbing it and repeatedly hitting him with it until he sputtered. “Huh, wha- Hey, stop it! Jen, stop it!” 

“Something is out there,” I said in a low, wavering voice, still not taking my gaze off the window. He groaned, and I could tell he wasn’t really listening to me. I risked a glance at him and saw that he was preparing to fall back asleep. “Manon! There is something out there, I heard it! I saw it!”

He turned to me, sitting up and reluctantly rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Are you sure you’re not just imagining things? I’m sure there’s nothing out there,” he grumbled. I turned back to the window. 

Two eyes were staring into the room, a grey glow shining through the curtains. 

I screamed, stumbling back and almost falling over the couch. “What the fuck is that?!” I bolted to the side, hauling my ass across the room, away from the window. Manon looked at me in confusion before looking at the window. 

“Jesus christ!” he screamed, falling back off the couch and scrambling over to me. “What the hell was that?!”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I was not going near the window. “Dude, go see what it is,” I said, nudging Manon forwards. He looked at me like I was insane but I still shoved him over. “I saw it first, now you go.” 

We stared at each other for a moment before he quietly groaned in defeat and crept to the window. He reached for the curtain, waiting a moment before pulling it back quickly. There was nothing there. 

The tension in my body softened but I still felt alert. 

Where the glowing eyes had been was now nothing but the winter night. I could see the faint outline of the trees off in the distance, making the rest of the landscape blend into each other in a darker blue hue. The sky’s dark blue still stuck out, with stars speckled like freckles. 

I walked up next to him, wanting to see wherever it went but it wasn’t too clear. I couldn’t see too much. The light from the room was reflected down onto the snow, being reflected outwards to the surrounding area. It didn’t shine too far but far enough to see drag marks leading away from the window. The marks led off into the clearing and off to the side. 

Parts of the snow were no longer white. There were streaks of a darker color. I couldn’t make out what it was, but enough light was shining for me to tell it looked red. 

Okay, that was bad. I took a step back and pulled the curtain closed. I bit my thumb softly as I tried to think, walking further into the room. Oh god, this really wasn’t good. 

Out of the blue, I swung my arm and smacked Manon in the gut. He doubled over with a pained huff. “I fucking told you that was a bad idea!” I yelled at him. 

He groaned as he leaned against a chair, using one arm to stabilize himself while the other was held over his gut. “Yeah, no, okay,” he grumbled. “That was unnecessary…but admittedly warranted.” I rolled my eyes at him and walked towards the exit of the room. 

I started flipping on every light switch I came in contact with. Almost every light on the first floor of the house was now illuminated. I didn’t want there to be a single dark corner where that thing could hide in. Yes, it was big, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t hide. 

Suddenly, the aroma of decay drifted from the stairs. 

Against my better judgement, I flicked the light switch. 

I stared up the stairs. There was a shadow across the wall. In the exact figure of the Maryi Lwyd. “Manon? I called to the other room, not taking my eyes off the stairs. 

“What?” he called back. I took a step back. There was a pause before I heard his footsteps coming towards the staircase. He stood next to me, looking up at the shadow. 

“I’m not going up there,” he whispered after a pause. I scoffed, sparing a glance at him. As soon as I looked back up the stairs, the shadow started to move. The same crackling cry was made, echoing down the staircase. 

I started pushing Manon to the side, “Run.” We both started running down the hall, back to the living room. I closed the door behind me once we were both inside, turning the lock and placing a nearby candlestick through the handle. “Maybe we could wait until morning,” I suggested, mostly to calm myself. 

“That might not work, Jen,” he said. I turned to him, following his gaze to the clock. It was almost four thirty. Sunrise probably wouldn’t happen until eight twenty. That meant another four hours at the latest. I looked back at him, wondering how the hell we were going to get out of this situation. Then I heard a soft eerie singing almost like the wind:

Wel dyma ni, celwydd cariad mam.

The singing came closer to the room. I took steps back along with Manon, the two of us backing up as far as we could. “Can you tell what it’s saying?” I muttered under my breath. He shook his head and we kept our gaze on the door. A shadow covered the bottom of the door. 

Gorffwyswch eich pen, gwybyddwch fod difrifwch i ddod. 

The scent of copper invaded my nose from outside the room. Getting closer to the door caused the scent to strengthen. It was the smell of blood. I couldn’t 

Cwsg mewn hedd, anwyl blentyn. 

I looked around the room, hoping to find something that could help us. There wasn’t anything that could possibly help us. Unless books could possibly hurt the creature, I wasn’t sure if we’d have a chance. “We need to get out of here and do something,” I said, starting to bite the inside of my lip. 

Cysga’n ysgafn am byth. 

I looked at the clock again. Somehow only fifteen minutes had passed. 

Rwy’n canu am wythnos, rhan o bythefnos.

Manon pushed past me and went to the window. “We could escape out of the window,” he said, pulling back the curtain and unlatching the window. “The door might not hold if it tries to get in so we gotta leave.” Part of me wanted to protest but there wasn’t another option. 

True to his words, intermittent pounding echoed from the door. The two of us paused before Manon started pushing me out the window. “Go. Go, go, go, go!” he said, almost chanting. 

Achos dyma fy mis i, am byth.

The pounding became louder. The wood started to splint and glowing eyes peered through. I ignored the drop of five feet and made my way out of the window, landing in the snow. The ice instantly chilled my hands and feet. I could feel my fingers quickly becoming numb. 

Pob lwe i’th lafur, i’th bibellau a’th dabyddion. 

I let out a shuttered exhale as I quickly got up, turning to wait for Manon to follow me out the window. “Dude, come on!” I shouted towards him. I could hear the door inside splinter and crack further. “Manon!” He poked his head out of the window, looking everywhere but towards me. 

Ni fyddwch yn dod o hyd i help yma, dim bwyd, dim bywyd. 

He finally looked down at me, “The axe. There was an axe in one of the boxes. Go get it, I’ll try to hold it off. I’m so sorry, Jen.” I looked at him in confusion, quickly panicking as he moved back into the room. The window slammed shut as I heard the door break completely. 

Red splattered against the window as Manon screamed in anguish. A gasp left my lips as I covered my mouth, frozen from fear. His screams stopped, yet the sound of ripping flesh did not. The crackling call brought me out of my stupor as I heard singing again.

Mae’r diwedd a geisiwch ymhell o fod yn sydyn.

A quiet sob escaped my lips as I turned and started towards where we left everything. I went to the boxes and scrambled through them, trying to find  the axe. Nothing was there but the boxes and wrapping paper we found them in. 

The call became louder and I made the mistake of looking back. It was already out of the window and heading closer to me. I tried frantically to find the axe. I tried to think back to where it was left. 

The snow. We left it in the snow. 

Ildio, rhoi I mewn. 

I could feel it coming closer, a chill trailing up my back. I cried out as a claw reached out, attempting to grab the back of my shirt. I ducked to the side and ran out to the field. 

How had it gotten that much closer to me in such a short amount of time? My breathing became labored as I got to the pile of snow where we first built the figure. There was a chance that the snow had covered it which made my search more dangerous. There was a chance it could end up cutting me. 

Cwsy ysganfn am byth. 

The voice was further away this time. The crackling of its voice grew more animalistic. I felt around for the axe, hoping it was out here somewhere. The snow was numbing my fingers, making it harder to find the axe. 

I glanced over my shoulder and saw it creeping closer. I moved quicker, swinging my hand to the side and jamming my finger against wood. I drew in a quick breath as I wrapped my hand around it and pulled it from under the snow. 

It was a log. A regular fucking log. I reeled my arm back and hurled the log at the moving creature. It slammed against the creature’s chest, bringing it to a pause. I continued searching for the axe. 

Rhowch i mewn, a rhowch y gorau yn sydyn.

God, it was getting louder and therefore closer. My hand landed on something colder than ice. I trailed my hand down icy steel and then felt wood and leather. The axe. As I picked it  up by the handle, the carvings glimmered in the moonlight. 

I turned around to face the creature. It was standing a few feet in front of me. My eyes widened as I stared into its own glowing eyes. As I took a step back, it took a step forward. I held the axe out in front of me with both hands and watched it. 

Gadewch i mi ddod i mewn.

The cloak and veil were drenched. I knew where it came from. Blood. Manon’s blood. The wind chilled my tear stained cheeks. At the same time, the wind was pulling at the cloak. I could see its hand under the fabric. It was a bony claw, dripping blood. How it formed a hand, I had no idea.

It was then that I noted the blade and its carvings up close. One side had the tree of life in its center. The other side had a griffin. Both symbols were surrounded by other symbols made up of straight lines and boxes that I didn’t recognize. I turned back to the Maryi Lwyd, my grip tightening on the handle. 

Rhoi I mewn.

The maw opened, the call becoming more crackled. It started to come closer. But  I stopped retreating and reeled the axe back as if it were a baseball bat. 

I let it get closer, my body starting to tremble as a claw reached out to me. 

I swung the axe. 

It cried out as the tips of its claws, the phalanges I suppose, broke off. The cry was almost one of pain before turning into a growl. Just as it tried moving closer, the claw dropped to its side. I stepped closer. I raised the axe again and swung for its head. 

The skull splintered where the axe struck. 

Its next chitter was of confusion, the eyes looking at me. I pulled the axe back, a bit in shock. Bit of skull came off with it. I swung again, this time splitting the skull in half. 

The left side hung off before thudding to the snow. The inside of the skull was empty. The eye socket still on the structure was still glowing. It flickered for a moment. 

I swung once more at the half still attached to the creature. 

The light went out. 

The half of the skull shattered around the axe, pieces falling to the snow. With them, fell the cloak and veil. I sighed shakily as I took in the silence. The wind engulfed me. The cloth rustled in the wind. 

I went inside with the axe, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.