The Rules

A while back I was contacted by a man in mourning. His wife to be had died tragically not long before they were to be wed. He’d heard of some of things I could do and he thought I could somehow bring her back

Now that is something I can do but it’s... complicated and costly. So I told him the price, gathered a cloak, an old dusty top hat and a lantern that shone without a candle and told him we’d be off.

Now the road to underworld for the living is long and complicated. So as we descended the steps that curved around the spine of the earth and carefully traversed the chambers of its heart I had the time to explain to him the rules

There aren’t many rules but I think it’s worth telling them to you.

Rule one is to ignore the cries for help. If you follow every call for help you’ll end up hopelessly lost.

Rule two is to not speak unless you are instructed to by your guide. Speaking to the lost has driven many insane

Rule 3 is the most important. Never leave the light of the lantern. The shadows of death are more dangerous than anything on the mortal coil

We continued in silence. Eventually I directed his attention to a boat, floating on a river that didn’t move. A hunched figure sitting inside as shadows danced around the bank, the soon to be and recently deceased.

I instructed him to climb inside the boat and though he hesitated he did as I asked. The figure looked up, an empty skull grinning right at us. I greeted my old friend and asked him to ferry us across

The Boatman laughed. This one wasn’t quite dead. Why was he going to the other side? Didn’t he know it’s near impossible to get anyone back? Of course he did. But he had to try.

The boatman ferried us across, occasionally asking the man if he wanted to play chess or dice to pass the time. Each time, at my guidance, he declined

When we reached the other bank I reminded the man of the rules. Should he break them there would be nothing I could do. We started through the other side

We’d not been walking long when the man looked around and claimed we were going the wrong way. “I can hear her voice! She’s over there! I can hear her!” All I could do was shake my head and move forward

The man had forgotten the first rule.

The man was restless, shades were constantly looking at us. Their cold dead faces causing him unease. Then one spoke. One he recognised. His grandmother was trying to talk to him, ask him how he was, she knew where his fiancé was. All he had to do was follow her. He turned to follow and I grabbed his collar.

The man had forgotten the second rule

A large dome filled the distance. That, I told him, was where we would find her.

He followed in silence. The dome drawing nearer and nearer. Until he cried out. “That’s her! I see her! Just off the path!” I turned and shook my head once more

Now if this was a fairy tale I’d tell you the man listened. We continued to the dome and found his fiancé to bring her back

But it isn’t. This is a true story and those often don’t have happy endings

I turned. I shook my head. And he ran.

He ran straight out of the lantern light. And he screamed

They were clawing at him. Tearing him apart. He cried out for my help. All I could do was shake my head.

The man had forgotten the third rule