[In the year 1945, in the posh Northern suburbs of Kifissia, Athens, Greece.]
“Aegeus! Wake up!” shouted his wife, Charissa. “You have to get to work!”
“Oh, come on. Didn’t I tell you I have the night shift?” mumbled Aegeus sleepily.
“Well, since you’re up, I need you to take care of the kids while I go get grocery.” She said in a business-like tone, heading out with a bag in her arms.
Aegeus woke up, frustrated. He had finally found a job, but one with night shifts. After his morning chores, he served his son and daughter some bread and milk, and waited for his wife to return so that he could go out to meet his friends and discuss politics.
His wife returned and scowled at him sitting peacefully, doing nothing. “Could have done the dishes, couldn’t you? Kalo gia to tipota!”
Aegeus was used to this by now. He just muttered something at her and left, only to return in the evening.
“Get ready, and do not be late today. Be careful, and remember, you have a rifle in case things get nasty.” Charissa said, stressing on each point.
He left for the bungalow. The people he was working for, we well known in their area. They were paying him a handsome amount, and giving him a rifle for protection. However, he reached the place and was handed the rifle and a letter, explaining about things he needed to take care of. He didn’t really pay much attention to it, since he wasn’t going anywhere except sit near the gate the whole night.
He was really active at first, but as the night advanced, he started feeling drowsy. There came a moment when he actually dozed off, his head lolling over. At nearly 3 at night, something grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, causing him to jump and swing the rifle in every direction. He flashed his torch in every direction, trying to find out who did that to him, but there was nothing. Not a leaf budged anywhere. He thought he probably dreamt of it.
Sometime later, he heard voices. Someone was calling for help. He followed the voices, but couldn’t find out where it was coming from, since the voices stopped before he could find the source. However, he successfully completed his first night shift, only to go back home and sleep for the rest of the day.
The next night, around three, he was again disturbed by noises asking for help, and while he searched around for the source of voices, he was slapped on the back by someone, followed by laughs. In the dark, with just a flashlight in his hands, poor Aegeus could do nothing throw threats in the air. Just when he was searching around for his pranksters, he heard footsteps. He stopped to confirm if it was his own, but it wasn’t. There was someone near him. His heart was beating faster now. He clutched the rifle tightly with his sweaty palms, moving forward slowly, following the occasional cries for help.
He walked until he reached an area covered in reeds. He walked through the reeds carefully, until he reached a well. The well was surrounded by reeds. He couldn’t even know there was a well there if he hadn’t wandered in there. But he didn’t bother anymore. He knew someone was fooling him, so he decided to return back to the bungalow.
“Wait!” there was a noise coming from inside the well. It was a deep voice of a man, which echoed a little. Aegeus ran back and flashed the lights into the well, but the well was too deep, so he couldn’t make out anything.
“Hello?” he called out. He was starting to feel scared now. It was too dark, and someone was apparently calling him from inside the well. He looked around him, leaning to the walls of the well.
“Aargh!” he shouted. Someone inside the well had grabbed his hand really tight. He struggled to let go, and was successful. But before he could run away, his ankles were tied by a creeper, causing him to lose balance and fall.
He tried to crawl away from the well, hyperventilating. Before he could even get up, he saw a pair of feet. He looked up slowly, hoping to see a proper human being who could help him, but he was to be disappointed.
He flashed the torch at the person’s face, but there was none. A headless man stood before him and whispered in a coarse voice, “Wouldn’t you help me?”
Aegeus’ heart skipped several beats. He crawled back from the figure, shouting and breathing fast, only to collide with the wall of the well, and be grabbed by the neck by a pair of hands coming out from the well.
Now choking and spluttering, he tried to remember ways to save himself. Nothing about the events occurring was normal. He remembered Charissa’s words about using the rifle. He let go of the flashlight and pulled the trigger in the air, at everything he could target. Now he was the one asking for help. Then, he was knocked out.
-----------------------------
“Don’t worry dear, bampás will be fine.” Sobbed Charissa, as Aegeus’ kids and relatives surrounded him and cried. He tried to open his eyes, but it seemed to require too much effort. It was like his eyes were glued shut. Not only that, he tried to open his mouth to speak, but it was as if his mouth was stapled shut. He struggled to open his mouth, to make sounds, but the sounds only got fainter and fainter until…
“AEGEUS! WHERE ARE YOU?” “AEGEUS!”
He opened his eyes. It was broad daylight, and someone was calling out for him. He sat upright with the help of the well’s embankment, and feebly called out, “I’m here! Help!” and collapsed. They found him and carried him home, where he went through whatever he had seen his nightmare previously. They were trying to wake him, but he could only hear them weep. Not only could he not respond, but he felt very weak and pained, as if someone had sucked the soul out of him. He tried to move his arms and legs, but it was as if he was trapped in a cage of his own body.
His family was far from understanding this, as they just thought he was knocked out and weak due to the fever. He had a temperature so high that his body writhed every time Charissa put a wet cloth on his head. He even spat out the medicine that was forced into his mouth. It was a strange disease, a disease whose remedy was its consequence - death.
Meanings:
Bampás: A Greek word meaning ‘Papa’.
Kalo gia to tipota: [Greek] ‘Good for nothing’.
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