The Trauermarsch
by
Ryan M. Murphy
Copyright © 2012 by Ryan M. Murphy
https://www.ryanmmurphy.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
For Catie — with Love and Mahler
* * *
Somber tones from Mahler’s fifth symphony poured out from the speakers in the center of the classroom. The teacher’s expression indicated fatigue, which matched those of most of the participants in the music appreciation class at the college. And there Kay sat, surrounded by a score of expressionless mounds occupying every unpadded chair in the over-sized room. There she sat, waiting for the music to stop, for the class to conclude, and particularly, for the woman next to her to stop humming along without regard to her fellow classmates or any actual appreciation of the proper key in which the song was written: C minor. To Kay’s dismay, the woman was humming in B minor.
This is my life, Kay thought. This is what it’s come down to.
She sighed. What a literal hell her life had become.
She closed her eyes and consumed every note of the gorgeous symphony. The sound of the off-key humming from the obnoxious woman went by the wayside. Only the symphony remained. Only the wondrous melodies of sheer and tragic beauty.
Then the music faded into the background, like soft music in an elevator that could barely be heard, background music incase there was a lull in empty conversation between strangers.
She opened her eyes but darkness persisted. The music remained in the background for a few seconds and then gradually diminished in volume like a fading apparition.
Silence.
A single word left Kay’s mouth before disappearing into the void. “Hello?”
No echo could be heard. No answer was received.
Two more words of inquiry escaped her mouth to be swallowed up in the nothingness. “Anyone there?”
The answer came not in a reply, but in the scant light that peeked out from a distant horizon. The sun. Kay thought she was looking at time lapse cinematography. Before long, it was hanging in the sky above a land of flower-filled meadows and green forests.
She took a deep breath, and the smell of a neighboring student’s body odor no longer tickled her nostrils. She smiled when she smelled the clean air. The freshness was like nothing she had ever experienced.
Kay spoke under her breath, knowing that nobody would hear her anyway if she yelled out. Softly, she said: “Where in the world am I?”
She yearned to understand where she was. Though the sound of the off-key humming was now a distant memory, part of her wished it would return so she could have some sense of normalcy. She closed her eyes and wished for the classroom to reappear, for the humming woman’s reprise to begin.
When she opened her eyes, she was still in the same place, though now instead of a forest being in front of her, a large castle took its place. She watched as dark clouds billowed above the castle and thunderbolts attacked the steeply angled rooftop and the plethora of gables.
Her jaw hung several inches down. She wondered where this magnificent castle came from. And more importantly, why did the storm clouds only cover the area immediately above the castle? And even more importantly…what was inside? She wondered so intently that she did not realize she was speaking her thoughts.
Then an answer came: “Death and destruction, my dear.”
She jumped nearly a foot in the air at the sound of the man’s voice that came from behind her.
“That is all that is in that dreaded place you see before you.”
Kay turned around and saw a skinny, boyish-looking man, clad in armor.
“Who…who are you?”
“I’m Rabenold of Preston County. Son of Ruby the Wise. Cousin of Debbie the Spectacular. First cousin once-removed of…”
Kay sighed and rolled her eyes. “Okay, I get it. So why are you here?”
“I’m here on a mission I’ve trained for my whole life...to defeat the Trauermarsch.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a German word that means funeral march.”
“No, I figured by the sound of it that it was a German word, but I meant, what is it?
“It’s death…it’s destruction…”
“Yeah, you already said that’s what is in there. What does it look like?”
“Nobody has ever seen it, but it is believed to be a serpent, with eyes of a spider, hair of a teenage pop star heart-throb—”
“Oh my.”
“Yeah, horrendous, I know.”
“So tell me, Rabenold, if nobody has ever seen this…this…whatever it is…”
“Trauermarsch.”
“Yes, that. If they have never seen it, then how could they know it’s so awful?”
“Just look at its home,” Rabenold said. “There are storm clouds, and lightning, and it just looks like a place out of nightmares.”
“Have you been inside it?”
“No.”
Kay crossed her arms. “Then how do you know?”
Rabenold sighed. “Oh, goodness. I’m afraid you’ll never understand. You just need to take my word that it’s awful. The beast has claws the size of chef cutlery and—”
“Wait,” Kay said, now furrowing her brows. “I thought you said it was a serpent. Serpents don’t have arms, so how in Webster’s dictionary do they have claws?”
“Magic?”
“I think you’re full of bologna.”
“Sounds delicious.”
Kay turned around and walked away from Rabenold. She heard the whisper of the soft grass splashing against her blue denim pants.
“Wait,” Rabenold cried out. “I need your help!”
She turned around and saw the man-boy approach her. She did not speak, but gave a look showing her openness to receive requests for assistance.
“Until you showed up, I was afraid to tackle the beast. I stood here for hours and hours, looking at the home of death and destruction, wishing I could muster up the courage to slay the beast once and for all. But as the wise men always say, it is dangerous to go alone.”
“Isn’t that a line from a video game?”
“What’s a…video game?”
Kay smiled. “I think I like you more already.”
Rabenold smiled which made Kay smile more intensely and the cycle continued until both of their faces hurt from smiling.
“That was exhausting,” Kay said.
“Yeah, but imagine if we were frowning. The wise men also say that it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile.”
“Good reason to turn that frown…”
“…the other way around?”
“Exactly.”
They walked side by side toward the castle. They suddenly felt ferocious winds that whipped their lustrous locks of recently-conditioned hair, as if they were passing through an invisible barrier.
Rabenold screamed to Kay: “Awful, isn’t it?”
She screamed back: “Yes!”
They pushed through the currents of air and finally made it to the large front door. It looked like it was made from trees that were centuries old and splattered with knots the size of cantaloupes. Kay reached out and grabbed onto the tarnished gargoyle knocker.
Rabenold gasped. “Wait!”
“For what?”
Rabenold grabbed the handle of his sword. He pulled it from his holster and a three inch blade came out.
“What’s that going to do?” Kay asked. “That’s like taking a wa
ter gun to a knife fight.”
“Good analogy.”
“Thanks. So should I knock on death’s door or should we just go back to your place and wallow in regret?”
“I have all the essential ingredients for pancakes if you would rather do that…”
Kay shrugged and her hand slipped, letting the knocker slam against the door.
Rabenold gasped.
The wind died down like the beast inside had complete control over it.
Silence.
The door creaked open, leaving only a sliver for a pair of ominous eyes to peek out.
A woman’s voice came from far within the house. “Honey, who is it?”
“Not sure. Is it Halloween night already? There’s a large boy in armor with a fake sword.”
“Well, open the door and see what they want, Earl.”
The door opened and a white-haired man with a matching beard smiled at Rabenold and Kay. “Can I help you?”
Kay looked at the man and noticed that he was no taller than her five and a half feet.
Rabenold’s voice shook with terror. “They were wrong about the serpent body, spider eyes, and teeny-bopping hair-do, but your shape-shifting ways do not fool me, oh Dark One.”
The man turned inward and yelled to the woman inside. “Blanche, I think the neighborhood kids are shooting up again.” He slammed the door and Kay heard several locks latch in a feverous frenzy of paranoia. She heard the man continue talking: “It’s times like this I’m glad we have an alarm.”
Then a loud beep and a robotic voice: “System armed.”
Kay looked at Rabenold and smiled. “So, this was fun.”
“Yeah, I guess all the doomsdayers were wrong.”
“And they got you all worked up over nothing. The beast was just a lovely old man who is now slightly frightened.”
They walked away from the castle and when Kay looked back she saw that the castle was not a castle at all, but a lovely cottage. No storm clouds loomed above, but puffy clouds of the purest white. Songbirds filled the air with gorgeous melodies in E-flat major.
Kay grabbed Rabenold’s hand as they walked. “So how about those pancakes?”
In the instant Kay blinked before Rabenold’s response, the dissonance of humming in D major clashed with the birds’ song. When she opened her eyes, she was facedown on her desk. She stared at a puddle of drool that covered her music appreciation notes.
She sat up groggy-eyed and looked around the room.
“Did you have a nice nap, Kay?” the teacher asked.
The humming woman next to her stopped her off-key performance to giggle.
“Certainly did.”
Kay thought of Rabenold of Preston County and the dreaded Trauermarsch. She smiled when she thought of her life and how it might not be that bad after all. Sure, storm clouds seemed to loom overhead with death and destruction all around, but maybe, just maybe, life was as sweet as the tender old man who sat frightened in the security-system protected cottage of her dreams.
# # #
About the author:
Ryan M. Murphy is a lifelong Pennsylvanian who has been obsessed with The Beatles for as long as he can remember. When he is not running his music store or playing shows with his band, he writes science fiction, fantasy, and mainstream fiction stories.
Other Releases by Ryan M. Murphy:
When Darkness Ascends
Connect With Me Online:
https://www.ryanmmurphy.com
Send Me An E-mail:
[email protected] Author Note:
Thank you for reading The Trauermarsch! I hope you had as much fun reading it as I had writing it. For information on current and upcoming releases, please visit my web site! ~RMM