The Spinner

Okay... I know I've been away from this blog for like an eternity. Well, now I am back. I've written another fairytale inspired story. Try to guess which story it was inspired by. I didn't really have time to check it for errors, so, do forgive me if you find any. It is much longer than the previous two, so do try to bear with it. I hope you enjoy it.

The Spinner

Once there was a man and his wife, who were in debt, serious and terrible debt. So they did what any couple in their situation would do; they sold their one and only daughter to the sultan.

Our daughter was touched by the almighty and the divine hand offered her a gift so rare, they told the sultan. In our daughter's virgin veins flows the blood of Nicholas Flamel, they told the sultan. With a spinning wheel, she can turn worthless straw to fine gold thread and it would be such a waste to waste her gift on anyone other than Your Majesty, they told the sultan.

And the deal was made.

Remarkably, not a single witness to this cruel bargain accused the couple's daughter of being a witch. Remarkably, not a single witness to this negotiation questioned how a family with a gifted daughter could sink into a debt so low. And, remarkably, not a single witness to this deal spoke on the poor girl's behalf while she remained silent.

So, once there was a girl who was dragged from her life. Once there was a girl who was shoved into a dungeon with mountains full of straw, with only wooden spinning wheel as her companion, yet she kept silent. Silently, She knew that her parents would have fled the kingdom by then with their money, for they feared that the sultan would find out the truth soon enough. She was silent and alone. And in that dungeon, silently, she wept.

You will spin all this straw to gold by sunrise tomorrow, the sultan had ordered her. Or, it'll be off with your head! If what your parents have told me are but mere lies, it'll be off with your head!

There was a brief silence before she spoke. But if I am gifted you'd need me to give you gold and thus you cannot kill me, she bravely said.

It’s true little girl but see it this way, then, I may have no gold. Yes. But you, you'd have no life; I wonder who's in more of a loss, he sneered and left, slamming the dungeon door behind him, leaving the girl to weep alone and silently among straw.

That night, she hopelessly spun the straw yet all she produced was straw. Fear overwhelmed her. I'll die tomorrow, she cried, I'll die.

Why are you crying child, asked a voice.

Startled the girl looked up to see a humanoid being staring at her. His eyes showed pain intertwined with compassion. Scars of torture covered his body and face. His skin was that of burnt hide. Even his silhouette threatens to defy the very humanity that only the language, which his horrid mouth utters, attempts to defend. His image shocked her more than his course voice did. He looked utterly demonic.

Where did you come from and how did you mange to get in, she asked him, trying to not scream lest he should attack her.

I came from lands of chaos and torture, and I got in with my gifts and talents, replied the creature. So, how may I help you?

You cannot help me unless you can spin straw to gold thread.

At those words, he sat on the spinning wheel and spun like a spider. The yellow straw went through the wheel and the product that was produced seemed to shine so gloriously. It gleamed like heavenly light. The girl saw it, she did not have to go nearer to know what the bright thread was. It was the light of hope. And the creature continued spinning, creating more golden shimmer.

Somehow, despite his repulsive appearance, she felt that she could trust him. She felt that they had an affinity. And she felt compelled to share with him her pain and suffering, her life. She told him everything about her ill fate, her miserable life and her blasted parents. Her voice filled the dungeon with the mechanical sound of the spinning wheel setting the rhythm. The two sounds harmonized in a duet that lasted all through the night until she fell asleep.

She was rudely awakened the very next day by the clanging of keys and the slamming opening of her dungeon door. Then, entered the sultan.

By the might of Allah! It is true! You are truly gifted, uttered the speechless sultan as he stared at the incandescent mountain of fine and exquisite golden twine. Even the girl seemed shocked at the creature's produce.

He must have spun every last bit of straw all through the night, she thought silently. Yet the creature was nowhere to be seen.

Fine then little girl, we'll have another huge mountain of straw for you tonight, mocked the old king. Fail this time, then bid farewell to your pretty little head. Then, with a wave of his hand, a line of servants appeared to remove the pile of gold replacing it with a huge heap of straw, which the girl could have sworn was larger than the one before.

The wretched sultan gave another royal wave and this time a humble serving of gruel was placed before the girl by a servant. Eat up, you'll need your strength tonight, he mocked her. With the slamming of the dungeon door, she was once again alone, to weep silently.

That night, he came again. You weep again my child, the familiar voice said.

She looked up at him, jumping slightly; she still had not gotten used to his appearance. Without a reply, the creature went straight to his job, unasked. More brilliant thread of light was produced, slowly engulfing the shadows of the dungeon, bit by bit. She started to talk to him again letting her voice melt with the rhythm of the spinning wheel.

Thank you, sir. How can I ever repay you for saving my life, she asked him.

Without pausing his spinning, he replied, you are welcome my lady, and for now, I require nothing and so, I shall ask for nothing of you.

The whole night again, he spun straw to gold, dullness to light. The whole night, her voice filled the void of the dungeon's silence, telling him all her pain. The whole night, his tempo intertwined with her voice, making music to the night. She woke up the next day to find all the straw turned to gold. She woke up to the sight of the sultan, who then again gave her more straw and a pathetic plate of supposedly food.

This routine repeated itself over and over again. For a thousand nights the creature spun gold for the girl. For a thousand nights, the girl told him everything, each night thanking him and asking him how she may repay him. For a thousand nights he asked for nothing. However, on the thousand-and-first night, he made a request.

Will you give me your heart and be my other half in life, he asked. Through his eyes, which were about the only things that seemed remotely human, she could tell that he had fallen for her. It was true. All the nights, listening to her sad tales, made his sympathy for her grew into a deeper emotion; one that he had never felt before; not where he came from. And that night, he asked her to love him.

The request was absurd of course. How could she wed a monster like that, she thought. Such a request was impossible. God knows, what he is, but he's definitely not human, she breathed silently. The thought of a consummation with this being made her feel sick in the insides until the gruel she just ate threatened to force its way out of her stomach. All this thought took a fraction of a second to run through her mind that she was actually about to decline the moment he asked her. However, self-preservation stopped her.

He might refuse to help me if I decline, she thought, then it'll be off with my head. Her mind thought it through well and hard before she replied him.

All right, she replied at last, however, you may have my heart only after I am freed from this place. Then, we may be wed. The creature was pleased and went straight to work on the wheel. She knew she would never be freed from this prison. She knew, thus, she would never have to repay him. She knew she was safe from such a vile future. Yet, she still feared it. And she kept silent the whole night. Only the sound of the wheel filled the silent night.

She slept in fear. Yet fate always has a way of materializing people's fears. And she was not spared.

She awoke the next day to the presence of not the sultan but his young son, the heir to the throne. He looks deliciously handsome, she thought to herself, blushing. The attraction seemed to be mutual, for the young prince too blushed. Even though the girl was clearly covered in dust and dirt from the dungeon floor, he was attracted to her and she was attracted to him.

I have heard of your tale from the whispers of the servants and I cannot help but think that you have been put through such an injustice, said the prince, and I have requested from my father that he free you.

Oh, my lord, how can I ever repay you, she asked him.

Be my wife.

They were all alone among soft and bright threads of gold. He stepped towards her. He was so close to her, she could feel his breath on her face. His face was flawless and youthful. Even in his royal garments, she could imagine the white flesh of his beneath the clothes that conceal it.

He placed one hand on her shoulder and the other around her delicate neck. He craned his neck forward. His lips pressed against hers then his mouth sucked the very breath she exhaled. His moist saliva flowed into her. Soon, as if by innocent instinct, they ripped each other's clothes off, assuming the biblical roles and images of Adam and Eve.

Their white flesh intertwined with each other. Their skin caressed one another. He kissed her from her lips, then down to her youthful bosom, licking her nipples as he went. Then down to her stomach. She gasped trying to suppress her moaning. She clawed slowly on his youthful muscles and his powerful arms that held her. She can feel his phallus sliding against her inner thighs, tickling her with a cruel friction of pain and delight. They made love the whole day on the twine of gold, till the faithful sun set.

He slowly pushes himself into her. Only a light trickling of blood was proof that she just lost her innocence. She could feel him expanding within her. Pain and ecstasy could have never united more perfectly. She felt his seed flowing inside her. Their innocent frame cannot suppress it any longer. The fusion of pain and pleasure was too much. Soon, their cries filled the dungeon. Their cries broke through the dungeon walls filling the endless silence of the night.

But the old moon was not the only witness to this. The creature watched silently in the dark corner of the dungeon where light dared not intrude and where darkness blanketed and hid him.

He had appeared just as the sun had set only to find and image that tore his nerves and flesh. Every moan pinched and crushed his palpitating heart. Their pleasure was his torture. Yet he remained until the two figures before him slept.

The marriage of a prince and a commoner was unheard of. Remarkably, not a single witness to this union questioned it. It was a grand celebration indeed. Everyone who was anyone was invited. Yet like all great celebrations, uninvited guests were unavoidable.

The creature appeared before the newlyweds. Of course, the prince and everyone else were puzzled and shocked. Some fainted at the sight of such a hideous being.

Congratulations, my lord. However, I have come here today to claim your bride as mine, said the creature.

Preposterous, yelled the prince, who the hell do you think you are, monster.

I am the savior of this lady. I am the one who laboriously spun straw to gold each miserable night while listening to her sad tales, he replied. And I did so because I love her and she had promised me her heart. Ask the divine apparition beside you whom you now call wife, if you doubt me.

The prince did not have to ask his new bride to find out the truth, yet he cared not. She is my wife and I shall defend her. The girl remained silent.

Fine then, the creature said, I will release her from this contract, if she could tell me my name, the creature said. If she cannot, I will take her by force. So my lady, what is my name?

Her throat felt dry. She knew not what his name was. Yet she was not going to go down that easily.

Abraham, she said.

No, the creature replied.

Isaac.

No.

Solomon… David… Ishmael… Mohammed… Moses… Jacob… Joseph… Adam… Noah… Aaron… She said all the names of the men of God and all those who were not. She tried the names of saints and sinners. She even read from a huge book of names that the royal librarian gave her. Yet not a single one was right. She could not think of anything else. And the sun had set hours before.

I shall leave you now, my lady, but tomorrow, I shall return and it will be your last chance at freedom, he uttered then vanished before her eyes.

Her husband felt her desperation and so sent men in search of this creature or anyone that could give its name. And one of these scouts was lucky.

In the blanket of darkness, in the middle of a forest not so far away from the palace, he saw the creature singing before an open fire. The song was that of melancholy and loss and pain. The royal scout listened attentively as if his life depended on it.

The creature sang with a voice so unlike his speaking voice. It was a light yet strong tenor tone that made the scout shiver feverishly. It was the voice of pain and depression forced with languid pleasure. It sang. The creature sang.

O night after night I labored on the wheel
To save her soul from death and destruction.
Yet all I begged for and asked in return,
Was her heart. Her love. Her devotion.

The straw of dullness I turned into gold
Of light so bright. It became her salvation.
And I was her savior. Yet now that she's free
She left me alone, this beast full of passion.

I am fair my love. And my heart beats for you.
Yet yours soul and heart was never my possession.
You ponder my name, which you never bothered to ask
My name my dear lady is none other than…

Once the last note of this song was sung, the scout left the sulking creature with his fire, as fast as lightning, due to both duty to the royal couple and fear of the creature. Throughout his journey the song refused to leave his head. Hauntingly, it threatened to drive him insane; the words, the tune. Ah, the tune. The tune was near demonic, inhuman and possessing and sucked the very existence of his soul; the tune of death and depression. Even Orpheus' music could have struck such cords in the human soul. He cannot remove it from his skull. It screamed yet hummed within his brain.

His steed was tired and almost dying by the time the scout reached the palace. At once he requested for the presence of the prince and his wife. In their night garments, they appeared before their faithful servant. The exhausted scout told them everything.

That was what it said its name was your majesties. Ah! I cannot get the tune of his demonic chants from my brain, cried the scout who was on his knees by then, crying like a baby, covering his ears as if to block out the sound that in fact resonated from within the recesses of his memory. Get it out! Get it out!

The prince and princess could not do anything to save the withering soul before them, neither could their servants.

End the sound! Bring the silence and bliss infinite! Help me Allah, same me from this torture, he cried. If no one can save me, so be it! This hell on earth I cannot bear! With those words, he stabs himself with his dagger.

The prince and princess merely watched then went back to bed satisfied, ordering the servants to give the dead scout's family some money as compensation and give him a proper burial. They slept well that night, in each other's arms, knowing that they have at last won.

Everyone who was anyone was there the next day; all waiting before the royal couple. However, it was not the newlyweds that they were there for. It was the hideous creature. And as he promised, he returned. Again, there was a wave of gasps of horror and fainting audiences; the usual. The creature must have been tired of these reactions for he sneered at those who were present.

My lord, my lady, he greeted the couple.

I know your name, creature, said the young princess without hesitation and a note of satisfaction.

I know you do. And send my condolences to the family of your faithful servant who spied on me last night, he said with his eyes fixed on hers, staring into through the vessel that is her body, right to her soul.

But before you utter my name, do note, that how remarkable it is that you knew not my name and never once cared to ask me for it, even though I spent a thousand and one nights faithfully spinning straw to gold for you, in an attempt to save your life. Never once did you ask or try to find out. Never once did you bother. All the nights I spent listening to your pain, your life, not once did you ask for my name; the name of your companion through your imprisonment. You know nothing about me, while I know all about you, reflect on that my lady, the creature said. It stung the girl a little, but this was an issue of her fate and future; she must not yield.

My lady, my name is also my curse. I have escaped from the realm I came from; a realm that only Lord Dante managed to map successfully. It is a realm of chaos, of pain and torture. Once you utter my name, I will be dragged back forcefully to whence I came; to where beauty such as yourself exists not. Uttering my name means my damnation, my lady.

Is that all beast, she asked. He nodded. Very well, she said nonchalantly, your name is Legion. She smiled.

He smiled at her and said, fare thee well then, my lady, fare thee well.

The ground cracked where he stood. No. The very fabric of reality cracked where he stood revealing darkness that seem to not only be devoid of light, but seem to consume light and eliminating it. Fire so black spewed out from it licking the creature's already burnt skin. The fire emitted no light, only darkness, if it were ever possible to emit darkness. Yet the creature did not scream or beg for help. He merely stared at her; his eyes tearing. His lips seem to continuously mouth the words, fare thee well my love. And with one final surge of the hellish flames, he was dragged back to the kingdom of Lucifer where he belonged.

The fire was gone. The crack of the gates of hell was sealed. It was over. The only trace of the horrific scene was the space where he stood, which light seemed to neither exist nor dared to enter. That space of darkness lasted for a few days. The last words of the demon lingered and swam through the palace halls, reverberating off the walls, until it faded away like the memories of its owner, leaving the silence to heal everything.

Everything was as it should be. The sultan died not long after that. He chocked on fishbone at royal banquet. The girl tried to hide her satisfaction; she had always hated him for his treatment of her before. The prince became sultan and the girl was made sultana. They had a few children, which secured them an heir to the throne. They ruled justly and magnanimously till the end of their service to their people.