Chapter 6 DECEPTION

"Pandemonium is within my head

A deep abyss of what is real and what is not

An unending war between liars and justice

I can't seem to remember

What is something I made and what is not

My memories are vague and strange

There are things that I cannot trust

All of us are crazy and this is my way of being one"

At the foot of the hill she stood. Looking at the top, he is there like he should. The fabled troll known far and wide. Not because of his stories but for his weird personalities.

The troll is sitting at the peak. Looking at the earth beneath.

The place looked plain yet magical. A mixture of light and darkness, almost quite comical. An eerie feeling could be felt. Quite uneasy yet assuring like a deer's pelt. It was chilly and warm but there was no wind to blow. The hill wasn't high yet it wasn't low. It was covered with moss yet it's lively with greenery. Like it was created carefully yet with intent of buffoonery.

It was a place of paradoxical confusion. A glob of contradiction. A mixture of things that never should have met. But this was how the things this place was set.

The girl approached and walked up the hill. And everything seemed to stay still. As she neared the troll, she was filled with excitement. All the things she had suffered had suddenly been contentment.

When she was about to speak, the troll raised his hand and shushed. Pointing down below with his fingers thin and scrawny, she saw figures white and bony. Skeletons and remains that had been rotting for days. But it is clear that only one was slain. Yet the question is, who?

The troll spoke in a deep resonating voice of old. And a peculiar story he told. One that had just happened. The story of the skeleton whose blood the ground was dampened.

"The place below was once ruled by a kind loving lion. He loved his subjects and his subjects loved him. Together they lived from sun up to dim. He ruled over all the animals with peace and justice. But everything changed on one fateful solstice.

The lion was resting on his cave when suddenly the rabbit appeared. He was famished and scared as towards the king he seared. Screaming and hopping, the rabbit could barely say,

'Sir Lion! Sir Lion! The kingdom is in disarray! Everyone is dying! Not a food can be found anywhere lying! O Sir Lion! Sir Lion! What should we do?!'

The lion's mind was soon in a brew. Looking for a solution with a little clue. Then he made a decision that he would soon rue.

'I know what we shall do! I therefore declare that we eat one another! We shall hunt and roam till we find a new place to flourish in forever! Land with riches that flow like a river! Now, go and tell the news to the other!'

After that the rabbit left to hither. And do you know what happened? They returned to kill and eat the lion together. The end."

And that is how the skeletons in which he pointed came to be. A story of loyalty and royal decree. One of blood and killing. Which our heroine finds quite thrilling.

"What a rather interesting story!" said the girl with a smile on her face.

"Well then little girl, would you cut to the chase?" said the troll continuing his storytelling pace.

"Now you see, I can't seem to remember because my memories seem to flutter. I write and write in my diary yet they but remain a mystery. Every day I write yet every day my words disappear. Yet I always remember the story of yours' that I hear. So please help me remember!"

But her words to the troll seem like to slither, for the troll is a bit the picky eater.

"You do not interest me a bit. Go now for I must continue my stories as I sit."

The girl giggled at the notion. The troll not quite pleased with her motion.

"What's so funny for you to giggle?" said the troll in a raspy mood.

"It's just that your stories, to readers, it could barely be called food."

"And what it is your insinuating?!"

"They're horrible! Terrible! Disgusting even! But even so at least it's something I do not forget. Something that may help me find my life set."

"Is that how you ask a favor you small simpleton?!"

"Well what truly hurts more? The truth that cuts and heals? Or lies that comforts and kills?"

"I do not need to hear your incessant ramblings."

With that, the troll stood. Ready to leave the little girl that was rude. However much the girl had pleaded, her words resound unheeded.

So the girl came up with another plan. One that would surely get the job done. And before the troll was gone,

"I guess you just won't help me because I write better than you!" shouted the girl with a confident cue.

The troll turned to stop. Looked at the girl at the hilltop. With a smile on her face that was menacingly innocent. The troll fell for trap she laid as a present.

"Such preposterous words that come from your mouth!"

"Is that really so?" with an annoying pout.

Because of that the troll soon went back. Wanting to defend his pride. But unfortunately, the troll is about to taken for a ride.

"Well then convince me little lass. And do believe me if you pass, I shall help you remember at last."

The girl smiled with happy conviction.

"Well I accept your condition! Don't you worry. If I were to fail, then quickly I shall bail. But remember to keep your promise! Because I shall tell a story better than you could suffice!"

"Is that really so? Then make me a story about the rain. As creative as possible. As wondrous as a crucible."

The girl thought for a while. Creating a masterpiece. A story that had haunted her childhood bliss.

And after a while the girl spoke,

"Today is the day for another massacre. I watch as I look upon their hopeless endeavor. Soldiers that jump from high above. Even higher than the birds could love.

I hear the soldiers dropping from the skies. I hear their fear in their remorseful cries. Pushed to fall by those who are higher. Duties they must fulfill. If left unaccomplished, they pay the bill.

They are fall to win the war. To fill the earth with blood and scar. At least that's what they believe because that's what they're told. So they have no other choice but to be bold. In the end they just jump down from the sky. However they just die.

Drip! Drop! Drip! Drop! Drip! Drop! As if this vicious cycle was not to stop. They continue to die just like that. Like their lives was no different than a rat. Falling, shattering, and then finally dying. Words that we do not give a qualm to listening.

I try to help sometimes, but it could not lift them from their lines. I was never able to save them. To the pits of hell, they condemn. Because in my hands they shatter as well. Quickening their deaths even more so. And I just kill them too. Wondering on what I could do?

So I learned to watch them.

Breaking and shattering like a false gem. And to observe if at least one would succeed. To win the war and survive as their generals heed. But no one was ever successful. Downwards hell they fall.

They all just die. Hitting the ground from the sky.

Drip! Drop! Drip! Drop! Drip! Drop! Drip! Drop!

Falling, breaking, and dying. Because of their leaders lying. Until the sun shines again. And no one remembers them. Until the massacres stop. And none remains even a single drop. It was a bloody road. Like the way the world is covered in a red code."

And hence the story was finished. With the troll's face covered with confused anguish.

"Why is it that your story is unusual? With meanings of which quite dual."

The girl smiled innocently wicked. Hidden beneath her eyes, a soul of unexplained curiosity and belief. And using her tales gives her a remorseful relief.

"Tell me troll, do you love stories?"

"Indeed I do. The way they tell is full of mysteries. Words covered with thorns and trickeries. Yet fulfilling even though words can wound you deeper than betrayal and treacheries."

"Well for me, it is different you see. I've always loved the tales of the unusual. Of curses and magic. Of seducers and tragic. I've loved how they live their lives and the way how they died. Both equally enchanting as they were terrifying."

"You're a bit of an eccentric gal as I might say. But why in this way do you sway? Unlike everybody else who is taken in by times and tides, why do you resist the waves and rides? Why is it that you write something gory and arcane, yet bewildering like a scientific claim?"

"Have you not noticed my dear friend? All things in the world just care about the end. Science and sorcery are the same in that they are both processes to understand something unknown and ignore moral values in the while doing so. That is why I love it. Two opposing sides yet the same. War engulfing the world saying one is superior. Yet in truth is that they share the same name. The share the same sins. They share the same fate. And all becomes too late. But they fight because of what they believe is right. But in the end, they fight for the same cause. Trying to destroy the other. Just like humans killing one another. One and alike. Not seeing that race and religion is but a name, when in fact humans are all the same. That is why I love it. The way despair is engraved into their souls. The way they all gave themselves roles. But they are just one and together. The world destroying its own. A devil calling a demon evil."

The troll laughed with emotions quite real. She took the book from the girls and said,

"Amusing! Very amusing. What a different contextual telling. Are your stories all like that? Well then I can see that reading this would be worth a bat."

But then the girl said,

"That is the problem it cannot be read. Its words disappear when the sun lays down to rest."

The troll had a face like he questions a test.

What an interesting phenomena he thought to himself. What could possibly be the reason that the stories disappear from the shelf?

So then he spoke,

"Perhaps your memories could also be called a mystery. It's a question. It's a trickery. It's a puzzle with no relation."

"But how is that? It is my life. How could it be a question that I cannot see? How can it be a question that I cannot answer when it is about me?"

"How can anyone answer a question he refused to hear? A question cannot find the answer itself."

The troll wanted to talk more, yes, indeed. But the sun prepares to rest as everything in the world retreats to its nest.

"The night readies to wake. Its moonbeams is nearing to show on the lake. A long hard journey you had taken. It's best to rest your body shaken."

The troll led the little girl to the other side of the hill where his old tree of a house stood still.

The house was magnificently charming unlike its owner. The leaves of the tree was filled with fireflies flowing like a river. Its roots gigantic and strong, and its trunk wide and long. But unlike all houses it had no door. It just had a hole covered with a curtain. Weirdly enough it had closed two windows at the side so a bird could not soar.

The two entered the tree to see, a quaint living room much like the hive of a bee. The troll then ushered the little girl to one of its rooms. Inside was a simple bed and above it the window looms. Entering the place through the transparent glass was the lucent moonbeams. Its brilliance lighting up the room's every seams.

After the girl was settled in bed, the troll nodded his head. Leaving the room to retreat to his quarters, excited for discovering tomorrow's uncharted waters. And the girl all cozy and tired, fell asleep as the night transpired.