Gate of Hell – Part I
Photo by Brad Switzer on Unsplash
It was the 21st of November 1829.
The storm raged on
for over two weeks without respite and blocked off all roads to Gaddon Township.
No one understood why or how something like this could happen in their serene
settlement, where nothing out of the ordinary ever happened.
When the mist rolled
in a fortnight ago and blanketed everything in patches of fog, the last thing
the townspeople expected was to be trapped in profound darkness and not see the
light of day for two weeks.
The crops wilted,
the flowers stopped blooming, and the clear air grew thick with nauseating
fumes. Children suffocated to death in their sleep, as did the livestock, the
pregnant miscarried and those who tried to conceive were left infertile.
On the seventeenth
night, however, the deluge finally retreated and the air cleared up. On the
surface, everything went back to normal. It didn’t.
The stroke of ill
fortune carried on, and before the townspeople knew, only a handful of them pulled
through.
From the twenty-tree
children who once resided in Gaddon Township, only two survived what the
remaining townspeople now dubbed ‘The Purge’.
One of these two fortunate
kids was Edmund Keyes and the other was Tom Baker.
Edmund was a year
older than Tom and was the only son of broke homme d'affaires, who relocated to
Gaddon Township to take flight from his debtors. The Keyes earned their living working
their fingers to the bone as husbandry workers for good ol’ Nanny Ruth.
The elderly woman
had never wed and was born and raised in Gaddon Township. She inherited a lot
of riches from her parents when they passed away two decades ago. She was now
the most well-off person in the entire settlement.
Tom, on the other
hand, was the youngest of eight children, with seven of them being girls. The
Bakers worked the corn fields for the other townspeople and earned a shilling
or two slaving through the day.
Those two, Edmund
and Tom, however, had never crossed paths before.
When the parish
priest, Mr Gilbert, told everyone to meet at the churchyard the day after the
storm faded, that was the first time they saw each other.
“This is a bad
omen,” preached Mr Gilbert, taking a short pause to make sure he had everyone’s
attention. “Goody Jon, can you please tell these good folks what you’ve told
me.”
Goody Jon, an
elderly man with a hunchback who miraculously survived what those in the height
of their youth could not, stepped forwards.
“Aye, indeed, it is
a bad omen, good folks!”
Everyone held their
breaths.
“As you are aware,
ever since my lovely Rae passed away, I’ve taken a walk on the shore to
reminisce our dying memories. Yesterday, when the mist cleared, I found
something washed ashore, good people! A shipwreck a hundred years or more old!”
“Why’s it a bad
omen, then, Goody Jon? Something so harmless, at that!” someone asked.
“Fool! Don’t you
know the Gospels!”
Mr Gilbert, “Please,
take a seat, Goody Jon. I’ll take over from here.”
Albeit reluctant,
Goody Jon returned to his seat.
“Dear friends, it
seems the Judgement Day is upon us all. No, calm down good folks! There you go!
Let me finish, ye?”
The commotion died
as soon as it happened. The townspeople had a lot of trust in the priest and heeded
his every word like they were from the Lord Himself.
“It is of utmost
importance none of you goes near the shipwreck. I know it’s harder than what it
sounds like. But you must stay away at all times. Is that clear? Goody
Jon?”
The elderly man
muttered something that sounded like something between a sneer and a swear.
“As soon as the
hills of snow melt, I’ll send a word to Bishop Tomas and we’ll figure something
out. Until then, no one is permitted to—”
“Aye, we get it! How
many times will ya repeat?” someone interrupted. The others agreed, and yet
another commotion broke out. This time, however, it took more than a few
minutes for Mr Gilbert to calm down the communion and get his voice heard.
“All right, then! Good folks, listen up! Let’s conclude with a sermon and a prayer.”
Read part II HERE.
