The Burial House

Thum lay in a rocky mountainous region where nothing but a rare type of mushroom grew. It was a small town with a steady population of around three hundred people. Often enough new members were born, and often enough members died, and when they died they were sent to The Burial House.

In this strange and eerie building lived the mysterious creatures known as the Consumers. No one knew what they looked like as they were cloaked in black with tall hoods that covered their faces in shadow, but they were certainly not human. Their duty was to carry away the dead and dispose of them. But what was always wondered was how they were disposed of. The story that was told was that the Consumers simply buried the dead deep under ground in catacombs. However, many of the citizens complained that they were never allowed to see their loved ones before they were carried off and consumed in flame or earth, or whatever was done with them. An investigation was put out by the own sheriff, but nothing ever came of it. The Consumers said they did their job and would not be interfered with. Some said that the sheriff was afraid of them, and backed off out of fear. Others said he had done his job and found no fault with the process by which the Consumers disposed of the dead.

So Thum continued on as it always had, harvesting and living off it's unending supply of mushrooms. Parents worked the fields, children went to school, and the Consumers did their work, whatever it was exactly.

But it all changed one day when a strange man came to town.

John Craigs was a young man of about twenty-three years. He had lived in the valley all his life and was the son of a wealthy miner named Thomas Craigs. John left his home to seek a quieter life in the mountains, and, hearing about the tiny town of Thum, decided to pay it a visit. As he rode his horse along the path towards Thum a storm began. It started to pour rain on John, and thunder roared and lightning flashed across the sky. As he rode John saw in the distance a large house. Though he did not know it, it was indeed the Burial House. The road lead John past the large house and as he went by John thought he saw several figures standing out in the front. The Consumers watched as the guest arrived and wondered if he soon would be joining their host of dead.

John rode into town and stopped outside an inn. A boy ran out to stable his horse and John went inside. As soon as the door was open he flt warmer. There was a roaring fire in the middle of the room in a large stone basin. Tables full of men and women filled the room. John walked to the bar and sat down in an empty chair next to an old man and his escort.

“Whiskey,” said John.

“You're new here stranger, what's you're name?” the bartender said as he poured a glass of whiskey.

John picked up the glass and took a drink before answering. “The name is John, John Craigs.”

“Welcome to Thum Mr. Criags....What brings you here might I ask?”

“I'm looking for a small town o settle down in.”

“Settle down? You look a might young to be wanting to settle down.”

“I have money, and care to spend my days reading, if you don't mind.”

“No offense, it isn't any of my business how you live. I'll leave you to your drink then.”

The bartender bustled away and John turned in his seat to survey the room. The crowd of people was not unpleasant as the crowds in most saloons John had been to were. They were nice looking folks, and save for the occasional hooker standing about seemed decent enough. The room was not terribly loud either. An occasional holler or yell came from men who were playing cards. One of the prostitutes giggled as a man nibbled at her ear. A plump woman waited tables, bringing out beer and ale and whiskey and food. John liked this saloon. His father had always told him, “If a town's got a good saloon or two, then it's probably a good town.”

John paid for his drink and for a room and retired for the night. The plump woman showed him to his room.

“Will you be needing me to send you up some company, Mr. Craigs?” she asked stiffly.

“That won't be necessary ma'am,” said John. She loosened up a bit.

“Goodnight then, Mr. Craigs,” she said with a smile as she left the room.

Once the door was closed all the sound from downstairs was cut off, and John felt quite peaceful. John opened his suitcase and pulled out a book. He sat in an armchair by a lamp and began to read. He fell asleep reading his book, but he did not awake.

The body of John Craigs was carried out of the room early the next morning. The cause of death was unknown and the Consumers spirited the dead body away towards the Burial House. The sheriff watched as the creatures carried the body away, and once they were out of sight turned to his deputy.

“You left no trace,” he said with a smile.

“Told you I wouldn't!” the deputy said holding his hand out. “Pay up sheriff!”

The sheriff handed him ten dollars and walked away mumbling. The deputy was good at his job. Maybe too good. The sheriff thought maybe the Burial House could use another body by tomorrow...but he was too tired.

But the Burial House had another body the next day. The sheriff had died mysteriously, and the deputy took over. So things continued as normal. The town went on and the Consumers did their job, and the dead were put to rest. The Burial House lived on.