Na-Chi-Go-Rya-Loo

My sister’s been acting out of character these days. It all started the day we moved to my dad’s hometown in the countryside. He’s had some trouble finding work after my mum fled with some guy she met on Tinder.
Grace and I were too young to take care of ourselves. I was eleven, and she was only thirteen years old, so Dad figured it was time we met his side of the family.
We had never been to the countryside before. My dad never talked about his family or relatives, so I always assumed he just… never had one. Stupid of me, I know. But anyone in my stead would’ve thought that knowing Dad.
He’d always been tight-lipped. I got that from him. But whenever we asked about our grandparents, something in his eyes would change, like he was trying to suppress something. So both Grace and I learnt to keep our thoughts to ourselves and mind our own business.
The day we set foot in his hometown far off in the country, something about the uprooted trees, downcast weather, and profound silence unsettled me.
I grabbed Grace’s hand without being aware of it and didn’t let go until we were at a safe distance from the broad-leaved woods that surrounded this godforsaken hamlet.
I didn’t know what I was expecting, but the bedridden woman and her mentally challenged son were not it.
My paternal grandmother lost both of her legs to diabetes and had been bound to her bed for over two decades, and my unsound uncle took care of her despite needing help himself.
That guy looked as if he hadn’t touched water for ages, by the way. His name was Carl. He hadn’t always been like this, Dad said. He was just a regular kid like me, maybe a year or two older, when he became whatever he had become.
Dad wouldn’t tell me what happened, though. He said it was too scary, and that he didn’t like to talk about it.
While Carl gave me the heebie-jeebies because of the way he’d stare at us at first, I eventually took to him. He’d come and have a chat with me whenever Dad went job hunting.
He was funny and a good cook too! Grace and I loved – loved – his spaghetti and meatballs! And the strangest of all, he wasn’t as stupid as he looked.
Whenever Grace tried to sneak out, he’d come rushing over and stop her. He told me he had some kind of sixth sense after… Oh, right! I wasn’t supposed to tell anybody what happened to him. He said Dad would be very upset if he learnt that I knew what happened to Uncle Carl.
But maybe I could make an exception this one time.
Carl was eleven years old back in the 1980s. He and Dad were only eleven months apart and had grown up like twins rather than siblings. My grandfather hadn’t gone missing at the time.
Carl said my dad used to hate taking the sheep out to graze, so my grandfather only took Carl with him to the meadow near the dense woods. They usually returned before nightfall. But something unforeseen happened one wintry afternoon. Carl fell asleep.
It had never happened before. When he woke up, my grandfather was nowhere in sight. It was the day before his birthday, too! Why would anyone just… disappear the day before their birthday? It made little sense. That was also why my uncle did not think much about it, either. He figured his dad returned home without him.
But when Uncle Carl gathered the scattered sheep and returned to the barn, the gravity of the situation settled. Also, he hadn’t noticed it at the time, mostly due to the panicked state he was in, but two of the sheep were missing too.
The authorities swept through the entire hamlet without much luck. There was no trace of either the two sheep or my grandfather. That was when the first rumours about the thick woods began.
The Wolf People. The kids in Carl’s and Dad’s school pointed fingers at them, keeping them out of their plays. ‘Marked by the Wolf People’, that was what everyone said about them.
Those kinds of things, however, didn’t bother my dad as much as they bothered my uncle. Carl, although older by a couple of years, was easily upset and squeamish.
From being one of the brighter kids in their humble village, a real social butterfly, he grew detached and hardly ventured outside unless it was to graze the livestock.
Three years after this incident, the missing two sheep returned to the barn. Although they should’ve been famished – even dead – the sheep were in good health. Someone had taken care of them all this time.
In the hopes of finding a piece of my grandfather and easing his guilt, Carl took one of their herding dogs, a Beauceron named Tripper, to the woods the following morning.
My dad tried to talk some sense into him, said Carl, but ever since my grandfather disappeared, a pang of guilt latched onto his shoulder and kept sleep at bay. He believed that had he not dozed off that afternoon, my grandfather would still be around.
I think he wanted to confront them too. The Wolf People.
When night fell and there was still no sign of my grandfather anywhere in the woods – dead or alive – my uncle made up his mind to return home. On his way back to the main forest trail, however, Tripper perked up its ears and began to sprint in the opposite direction.
It was looking up at a gnarled tree, growling, when my uncle spotted it. At first, he tried to calm the thing down and tell it to return to the main trail. But the poor dog couldn’t be soothed and it certainly wouldn’t listen either.
When it stopped dead in a matter of seconds and backed away from the tree, however, my uncle knew something was in the offing and picked up the pace.
Closing in on the naked tree, he glanced up and found my grandfather’s mummified and decapitated head on an overhanging branch.
Uncle never recovered from the trauma. He relived that moment every single night. For over two decades, he ventured into the woods every morning in the hopes of finding the rest of my grandfather.
My dad, who failed to beat some sense into him, ran away from home at eighteen years old and made up his heart and mind to never return. I think Dad blamed himself for not doing enough for Carl. As I mentioned, they were raised as twins and the bond between them was therefore strong.
I asked Uncle what else he knew of the Wolf People, and whether he believed they had anything to do with what happened to Grandpa. He wouldn’t say anything the first few times I asked him. But by the third time, he finally responded.
They talked to him, he said. Ever since the day he found my grandfather’s head in the woods, the Wolf People talked to him.
“What kinda talk?” I asked.
He played with his slender fingers marred by husbandry. A sheepish smile played on the corner of his chapped, thin lips.
“Good things. Usually.”
“Usually?”
His flickering eyes darted from side to side as he leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. I could tell from the way his voice trembled that he was fraught with worry.
“They… they tell me bad things, too. Really awful things. I- I don’t want them too, though! I- I swear!”
“What do they say? Carl?”
He shook his head, fidgeting, looking from side to side as if he was making sure no one could hear us.
“I- I can’t. Cannot! They’ll hear! They always hear!”
“It’s okay. They can’t hear you here. You can tell me—”
His eyes grew wide. “HIDE! Carl must HIDE! They’re coming for me, they…” He went from shouting and covering his ears to complete silence. I followed his wide eyes to the swings in the garden. What was Grace doing there?
My voice trailed off as I shifted my gaze back to my uncle, or rather, the spot he was supposed to be at. “What in the world did you… see. Carl? Carl!”
I looked for him everywhere. I even went down to the basement where electricity did not work. When I returned to the garden, noticing that it had become dark outside, I stopped short and listened. Huh? Who was she talking to?
“Grace,” I said and inched closer to the swings, “who are you talking to?”
She was making some awkward moves with her hands as if she was trying to explain something to the chilly air. But why couldn’t she hear me? I called her name again, this time louder, and waited for her to spot me.
From speaking gibberish one second, she went mute in a flash and looked at me with a blank stare. It only lasted a few seconds, though. As if by magic, a huge smile crossed her face as she hopped down from the swing made of a car wheel.
“Who were you talking to, Grace?”
She cocked her head.
“What do you mean?”
“You were talking to someone.”
“I was? You sure?”
“‘Course I am!” I said, flustered, doubting my own eyes for the briefest of seconds. “And- and you were making these funny moves with your hands too!”
“Did you stay up all night, again? Dad told you not to you know that, right? Want me to tell Dad?”
“What? No! I mean… Don’t tell Dad anything, he’ll just… worry about me for no reason. He’s got enough on his hands already. You… you really weren’t talking to anyone?”
“Nope. But you did.” She pointed at the wooden fence where I had talked to our uncle a few minutes ago. “You were talking to yourself.”
“I was talking to Carl, dummy! Did you see where he went off to, by the way? I can’t seem to—”
“Who’s that?”
“Who’s who?”
“That Carl guy. Who’s he?”
“Is this some joke, Grace? You don’t know Carl? Our uncle?”
“Uncle?” she repeated. “We don’t have an uncle, Pete.”
“What’re you talking ‘bout? Of course, we have! He’s taking care of Grandma and- and lives here with us! He even made those meatballs you liked, remember? The ones with tomato sauce and not ketchup.”
“Are you… okay?”
There was no way this was real. I just talked to him and—I looked up.
“What’d you just say?”
Grace met my eyes and repeated herself. “I said we should call the ambulance for your craaaazy head.”
“No, not that one. What did you say before that?”
“The Wolf People?”
“Yeah, that one! How do you know—”
“You told me about them, Peter! What is wrong with you?”
“No, that can’t be! You- you must’ve heard it wrong. Maybe Carl told you about them…”
“That Carl again? Is he your alter ego or somethin’? God, look at how pale you are! You look under the weather! Should I call Dad?”
“No. No, it’s okay! I must’ve… I can’t have dreamed all this, though? What’s happening to me?”
“You should go take a nap. Dad won’t return until supper and you don’t look so well.”
“Maybe I should,” I said, adding quickly. “You really don’t remember Carl?”
“Peter, please…”
“I’m- I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ll go take a nap and then—”
“Watch out for Tripper. He’s been barking the entire night since a week ago. I bet he’ll escape this time.”
“Tripper?”
“Your dog, duh? Take him out tomorrow when you’re grazing the sheep. That poor thing’s been locked up here ever since that day.”
“What are you talking about? We don’t have a dog named Tripper! I certainly don’t!”
“Pete, for God’s sake! You know what? I throw in the towel. Just get that poor thing out tomorrow with you, okay? And, no, before you ask, I’m not grazing the sheep in your place this time. You’ve had a week on you. Get over it. You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, okay?”
“Lost someone?” I asked, but my words fell on deaf ears. Grace was long gone. My head spun like a top. What in the whole world was this? A dream? A nightmare? But why did it feel so… so real? It was almost like—I looked over my shoulder as a gust of wind breathed down my neck.
My frantic eyes drifted to the woods in the distance as night descended upon the village. What was this? These stranger sounds? The canvas of twinkling stars beckoned me to follow them, the whispers. The grinning moon turned upside down. I lost my footing. The whispers picked up.
“Na-chi-go-rya-loo…”
I covered my bleeding ears, trying to shut off the voice ringing in my head. 
“Carl?”
I flew my eyes open. The whispers stopped. Startled out of my mind, I looked up at my dad’s concerned face.
“Dad…? Dad!”
“Dad?”
I wrapped my arms around him, shaking from head to toe. When I let go, a kid stared right back at me. He was roughly the same age as me. His brown eyes mirrored my own.
No… This couldn’t… I studied my rough hands marred by husbandry. No, this couldn’t be real. It- it was madness, it was… it was real?
“Dad said to bring the sheep before noon or he’ll whip your ass! I’m gonna be in the kitchen and help Mum out, okay? She’s been having trouble with her legs lately, saying she can’t feel her toes or something.
“Anyway, just get up and don’t put him in the mood! You know he likes to take it out on us when he doesn’t get his way. Hurry!” He waved his hands in front of me like I was blind. “Oh, Caaaarl! You hear me? Earth to Carl! Earth to Call! Get up!”
“I’m not… I’m not Carl. I’m your son.”
“What did you say?”
“Your son—”
“What was that?”
“Dad, it’s me! I’m- I’m your son! It’s me, Peter! Pete!”
“Whatever dude. I’m heading to the kitchen now, ‘kay? If I see your ass here when I return, I’ll beat you. Like, literally. I will. Now get up, you lazybones! And, hey, don’t forget to take Tripper with you!”
What was going on? Why was I in Uncle’s body? And this place… I looked around myself.
The shack looked nothing like it did in the present. It looked new. The paint was fresh, and there was no sign of wear or peeling on the walls. Did I travel to the past? How? When? Why? Nothing made sense.
I shut my eyes to gather my thoughts. Maybe it was all a dream? I flinched as a hand fell on my shoulder. I snapped my eyes open and turned around.
“Your brother didn’t tell ya?”
“Grandpa?”
He looked younger than in the pictures we had of him in our photo album. Dad and he looked alike. Their facial features down to the direction in which their beard stubble grew were uncannily similar. So, this was how Dad was going to look like when he grew old?
“What’s that look on your face, kid? Not like you saw a ghost, is it? Just your old man…”
“Grandpa—Dad? What- what day is it?”
“You already know, Carl. What are you and your mother up to, anyway? I don’t like birthday parties and stuff like that! Don’t even bother throwing one!”
I dropped my head briefly, muttering under my breath. “It’s that day, then. The day you disappeared.”
“The day I what? Carl?”
“Grandpa, you can’t leave! Not today! You have to listen to me! Carl, he’s—I can’t live with myself if the Wolf People get you.”
“Are you all right, son?” He checked my temperature with the back of his hand. “You don’t have a fever. Did you sleep well? Maybe you should rest for the day—”
“You can’t leave! They’re gonna kill you!”
“I can’t leave? Who’s to say that? You need to grow some beard before you can tell me what to do, you little prick.”
“Grandpa, please!”
“You know what? Some fresh air will do ya good. Let Tripper rest, though. He’s been acting strange lately. It must be this stupid weather! The sun’s not shown its face for over a week! The well’s all dried up, too!
“Been talking to your aunt, she’s droning on about some bad omen. She says the ravens have been eating the flesh of animals at death’s door. But I don’t believe in such things. Or those people she says roam the woods…”
“The- the Wolf People.”
He glanced at me. “Aye. The Wolf People. Where’d you hear that, son?”
“She- she’s right, Grandpa—Dad! If you leave now, you may never return! Alive…”
“She’s been telling you bedtime stories, son. I’ve wandered these woods you see over there since I was wet behind the ears! Nothing or no one is hiding there that I do not know of. You can’t stay a child forever, Carl. You gotta grow up, you know?
“You gotta take care of your mum and brother. She’s not doing so well. Told me not to tell you kids, but they’re gonna amputate both her legs. I can’t rely on Jack. You know how he is. You’re the mature one. You gotta keep our family together when I’m not around.”
He knows. That he’s gonna die today, he knows. So why…? Grandpa, why do you allow them to do this to you? Did Carl know this too? That you knew all along? Or did he first connect the dots when he found your decapitated head in the woods?
Oh, god! That must be it! The reason Uncle Carl lost his mind! The guilt. The remorse eating his heart out every waking hour, telling him he should’ve seen the signs and done something about it!
But things weren’t that easy. I knew what was to come unlike my uncle yet there was nothing I could do to change the course of time.
My hands and feet were tied up. No matter what I said or did, Grandpa would not listen to me. Still, I had to know. I had to know who they were – the Wolf People.
“Are they… Those people, are they calling you?”
“They are. Every single day, they… they whisper.”
“Must you… must you go? Is there nothing…” I choked up. “Is there really nothing we can do to stop them?”
“You may stop a human and pray to a god to listen. But those things, they’re neither. They can’t be stopped. Not until they have their way.”
“But why you? You said you knew these woods and everything in it! You said nothing ever happened before, so- so why? Why now?”
“They’re not from the woods. I first noticed them when I was your age. Once they know you see them, feel them even, they’ll latch onto you. They’ll whisper. Every day. Every night. Every waking hour. It’ll drive you insane.”
“Na-chi-go-rya-loo…”
“You heard it?” He grabbed my shoulders. His stern eyes turned wild with delirium. “How? When? Carl, when did this happen? Son!”
“I- I don’t know, I just…” I’m not even your son. I’m not Carl. 
“Whatever you do, don’t let them get in your head!” He pointed at his head, tapping repeatedly. “You understand? No matter what you see, what you think you hear, you carry on and pretend they’re not there. That’s how you’ll… you’ll survive.”
“That’s what you did? When you first heard them? You feigned ignorance. It worked. Why can’t you do that this time too?”
“They bear grudges. For every year I resist, the crops do poorly, the sun fades away one ray at a time, and the night deepens. It grows darker, more sinister.
“With the darkness comes the followers of the Beelzebub. They reproduce in the shadows and lay in wait for lost souls to lead astray. At this rate, the world as we know will be gone. Forever.”
“The Day of Judgement…? Then those people are—”
“Angels.”
“T- this doesn’t make sense. Why would God—”
“God? That guy’s been dead since the dawn of time. Here, in the present, no god exists but him.”
“Who- who are you talking about?”
He leaned in. “Him.”
His eyes shifted to something behind me. My heart skipped a beat as something breathing down my neck.
I knew. The moment I turned around, I knew that I would wake up from this nightmare. But I couldn’t do it. I held my breath as whatever was behind me pulled me close and whispered in my ear. Now I understood each and every word.
“Na-chi-go-rya-loo.”
“Born from bonfire, we come from him.”
“Say my name.”
I hugged the side of my trousers.
“What is my name?”
“What… is… my… name?”
I shut my eyes and turned around.
Floating in the void. Profound darkness engulfed me. Then it disappeared.
In my mother’s womb, her subtle lullaby reached my newly formed ears. Dad was there too. I stretched my bony arm towards him, towards his soothing voice I missed. I could hear Grace too.
I blinked. I was back in the void. Floating. Everything I held dear, gone.
The walls around me closed in. Dad nailed the coffin. Grace was there too, weeping. I blinked. I was stuck this time. Here, in the coffin.
The strings of light became fainter with each shovel. I reached out to my dad. Our eyes met through one of the gaps. A subtle smile played on the corner of his lips.
“What… is… my… name?”
“Dad?”
“Na-chi-go-rya-loo.”
“Dad? Where’d you go? Dad!”
“Na-chi-go-rya-loo.”
Gasping for air, I banged on the nailed coffin. Each breath shallower than the one before it, each inhale laboured and in quick gasps.
“What… is… my… name? What… is… my… name? What… is… my… name? What… is… my… name? What… is… my… name? What… is… my… name?”
“Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!”
I covered my ears, screaming at the top of my lungs to drown out the voice. But it didn’t work. The pain in my throbbing ears was killing me! I rocked back and forth like a distressed child. Then I flung my eyes open.
“Your name… I- I know your name!”
The voice stopped. Everything returned to its rightful place. I stood in front of my grandfather. But he stood still, frozen in time. Even the high winds seemed to have stopped and yielded to the entity before it.
The cold hand behind me squeezed my shoulder, demanding an answer.
“You’re… you’re the Devil.”
“The First of His Name, Lucifer.”
“What did you… do to him?”
“Your grandfather ignored the blood running through his veins.”
“What- what blood?”
“Na-chi-go-rya-loo.”
“I- I don’t understand.”
“From the rivers in the East to the wastelands of the Seven Seas, my children roam this vast land made of clay and dirt. I created you to remember and honour me, to serve me and follow my lead.
“Your grandfather did not honour his promise to serve me, his Lord. He must pay for his sins, just like how those before him paid.”
“Please, don’t… don’t hurt him. My uncle, he… I don’t want him to live the rest of his life thinking he- he did this. Please, I- I beg you, please…”
“A deal must be fair. Balanced. An eye for an eye, a life for a life.”
“Let me serve you in his stead, let me—”
“You’re already in my service. What else can you offer?”
I gulped. “I- I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever you say! Just don’t hurt him.”
“Will you follow me and lead people astray?”
“What?”
“Like the ones before you who made a deal with me, you must follow my lead and wander from the woods to the rivers, from the rivers to the lakes, from the lakes to the mountains, from the mountains to the Seven Seas.”
“Like slaves…?”
“Angels.”
“I… I will.”
Everything moved. Backwards. Like in a broken film, I stood rooted in place while everything else around me moved.
Now I stood in front of Grace.
“You should get some sleep. Like, right now. With those dark rings under your eyes, I’d be ashamed to start school if I were you. What are you? Like, five or something? Do you need a kiss and a bedtime story to sleep, too?”
I hugged her. She tried to wriggle herself out, but I didn’t let her. I could still hear her ugly crying at my funeral.
My eyes drifted to the woods. The Wolf People. There they were. Shrouded in the shadows, I could now see their haunting faces.
As they retreated to the denseness, I looked my sister in the eyes and put on a smile.
“Kinda hungry. Did Carl return?”
“Hmm! He’s been cooking those devilish meatballs like forever, though! Grandpa’s been complaining since an hour ago. Those two are really something else! Dad’s had enough of them bickering so he went on a walk with Grandma. She’s got a new wheelchair. Carl’s birthday gift.”
“And is there spaghetti too? With the meatballs.”
“Of course…?”
“With tomato sauce, just like we had yesterday?”
She looked at me as if I had lost it. “Like, are you for real, Pete?”
Beaming wide, I kissed her cheek, and before she could wipe the saliva off, I rushed back inside.
I didn’t think I would ever say this but, man, I sure did miss this place! I was back. I was… I was finally back! But not entirely.
Somewhere deep within my mind, I heard the Devil’s whispers, reminding me that nothing would ever be the same again. But for now, I was going to dig my teeth into those meatballs!
Category:Demon/Devil
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