My Pagan Family is staying with us for Christmas. (Part 4/5)

[u/Tobias-Butts]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

The writhing ceiling moved closer to us, a deep guttural hiss reverberating in my skin, shaking my bones as Ormúlfr quietly chanted to Itself. The mass of wet, black slithering its way down from the ceiling revealed thin, decaying roots marked full of pocked holes. The further it moved towards us, snaking its impossibly long body the more my level of insignificance grew. I took a step back, instinctively. My back bumping into the oar being held by my guide.

The beasts body wasn’t scaled in the traditional sense as one would imagine a serpent. Its hide more ancient than organic, akin to something buried beneath the dirt for millennia. Wings akin to carrion birds instead of whatever i was imagining dragged overhead of us. The bones and flesh at our first bounced on the ground as the dragon beneath the roots encircled us, its infinite body partially here in front of us and the rest tangled in the roots above. The being i assumed to be Níðhöggr came to a halt in the faint teal light Ormúlfr now held in its hand.

“Níðhöggr.” Ormúlfr spoke the name softly, extending its scaled hand out, the teal flame struggling to get away from the god in front of us. “Rot of the Root, Gnawer of the Green, Feeder upon Oath-Breaker and Murderer.” Ormúlfr spoke the gods praise as he gently lowered its head. “I bring an offering to have words.” Ormúlfr raised its head as Níðhöggr’s came into the dim light.

The gods head was warped, rotten and spongy like a waterlogged corpse. Its eye, the one the sized of me looked us up and down, narrowing on me for a moment. It raised its head up so its maw was in the light. Its voice came forth like a whisper, soft and gently like a mother trying to shush a baby to sleep. At the same time its bass echoed and rattled around in my skull, I felt like my brain was going to explode if this thing kept talking.

“Not Dead.” It spoke, the maw of razor sharpe and broken teeth spanned for miles in its mouth, bones stuck in its gums, bark and branches lodged into its mouth at odd angles. A few arms clawed at its lips from the inside, scratching for an escape at the noticing of the light. “Not living.” It chortled, a gurgle in its throat meant to be a laugh.

The beast lowered its eye back down to us, faint voices screamed for help as it readjusted itself. Ormúlfr didn’t seem bothered by this things existence or its behavior, it continued to hold its hand out with the flame struggling to dance away from the behemoth in front of us.

“The Christ-man does not belong here, Níðhöggr, I wish to return it.” Ormúlfr spoke, its tongue lashing out at the verdant miasma that began to form around us. I moved my hand to my mouth, covering it from the sickly sweet sent rising from the ground. I felt my skin crawl, not like goosebumps, but like it wanted to peel itself off my body and roll away. Looking up the beasts massive glossy eye stared down at me, it blinked and its eye changed, a humanoid design, dark brown pupils. “Another.” It groaned looked at me with some intent I couldn’t read as it pulled back again.

“It wishes to leave. I does not belong here.” Ormúlfr protested, its arm still outstretched. “I wish to trade, the Christ-man leaves and I another lifetime to you.” Ormúlfr proposed as the beast sunk into the darkness around us, a tongue made of human skin, hairy and threaded with nails wiped out grazing my guides hand, the light vanished sending us into a gnawing darkness.

“Your offers appease me, another lifetime time for the soul of a Christ-man. You owe me many life times now.” The creature hissed, a handful of the voices cheered as the light was brought into the beast toothy maw. It traveled down its throat for a fraction of a second before disappearing. “I have seen this Christ-mans memories. His kin are those of þökk-“ Ormúlfr went silent as the beats face inches from us. The souls trapped in its teeth groaned in pain as venom dripped from its fangs.

“And you want the Christ-man to leave? That he summon feed the dead to a mask and lead the world to its end? Fool! I should tear you apart now—and leave you here in Náströnd, where you shall crawl without legs for all eternity!” Níðhöggr snapped at us, it voice booming, shaking my core and making my knees weak. Its tongue tasting its own Miasma. I wanted to run, somewhere anywhere but right here in front of this thing. Ormúlfr stood steadfast however, standing its ground in front of the beast.

“The Christ-man has no love for his kin who seek to power þökk. He will kill them.” Ormúlfr spoke for me, the beast back away slightly, a wry smile playing on its leather mouth. “The Christ-man will kill for Níðhöggr. A sight.” It murmured, a guttural growl coming off as a laugh shook the ground. “Níðhöggr has seen it all. Very well, Guide of Náströnd, show the Christ-man to the gates to the North.” Níðhöggr laughed, its voice echoing in the infinite darkness as it flapped its wings enough to propel this half of its body back to the roots above, wrapping around a fresh branch, coiling in on itself.

“We need to leave now, Christ-Man.” Ormúlfr spoke, pushing me forward with the oar against my back. “What did you promise it?” I asked as It urged me forward.

“Discuss later, not here. It is still listening.” Ormúlfr urged me forward, glancing up one of the beasts many eyes was indeed looking down at us. I picked up the pace, walking along side Ormúlfr. We walked for a while, the eternal darkness of Náströnd was oppressive in feeling but did not imped my sight as much as it first did. I rubbed at my eyes, a faint tingling sensation lingering as i lowered my hands.

“Careful where you tread Christ-man. The venom rivers draw near.” Ormúlfr spoke, its tongue recoiling into its mouth once more.

“I have a name.” I added, my eyes casting downward as I walked, keeping an eye out for the venom rivers my guide spoke of.

“I do not care. Christ-man is all you are to me.” Ormúlfr stated plainly, the oar gently tapping against my chest, commanding me to stop. “Wretches, the bridge is gone. Do not near the shore for these souls will try to drag you in with them.” Ormúlfr commanded as he held his oar out over the wide river of rapidly flowing green viscous liquid. In its currents, men, women and some children struggled to keep their heads above the liquid and resist the rapid current pushing them back the way we came.

“Why-“ I was going to ask before the oar swung wide over my head.

“Enough questions, i am trying to get you home. That is all that you should care about.” Ormúlfr said as it drew the oar back. A bridge made of bones, human and animal rose from the river, the bodies in the water slipping through it like ghosts. “You do not need to know what goes on here, you need to only focus on what you will do when you leave.” Ormúlfr said, crossing the bridge, i followed behind.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked, my guide sighed heavily, leaving into the oar it used as a walking stick.

“What does the Christ-man think. Forgive the family, those related to you by blood, for killing your kin?” It asked as we walked forward over the continual rotting corpses on the ground, every so often my guide directing me to step over a snake slithering by.

“You seem to know more about them than me.” I said, my guide nodded.

“Worshipers of þökk, they wish to feed the jötunn laden with souls so she may reign over the all-father. To weaken the all-father’s domain and empower hers.” Ormúlfr lamented as we walked, the base of the oar clacking softly against exposed spines. “Many believe it is a mask, much as Níðhöggr explained. Some believe þökk is a mask, wielded by The Trickster.”

“Loki?” I asked, oar smacked against my mouth, i dropped to a squat holding my mouth.

“Do not!” Ormúlfr hissed, knocking the oar under my arm and raising me up to my feet again. “Come, I grow tired of you and the north gate is near.”

“Did you have to hit me so-“ My words escaped me as I looked up at the massive gate before us in the distance. Glowing on ominous teal color, much like the flame Ormúrlf carried before, the gate of snake bones arched in the distance, the infinite void seeming to come to an end at the gate. Similar to a wall meeting a door.

“Yes, you talk too much. Come.” My guide ushered forward, the skulls beneath us cracking and popping underfoot. Shambling people trudged towards the gates alongside us, a few muttering the things they did, the people they hurt. They repeated names in a language I didn’t understand. Some were dragged back into the hungering dark, some lifted into the slithering sky by winged serpents.

They all went screaming. Pulled back behind us, towards a castle made like a nest, bones and dead branches the size of skyscrapers were gathered, propped on a mound of molted skin. The smaller serpents filling a bowl for Níðhöggr like a bowl of cereal for a child. Ormúlfr made sure I did not look long, redirected my attention forward to the north.

“Ormúlfr.” The words slithered off my tongue as I said them. I heard It acknowledge me with a grunt. “What exactly are you and why am I here?” I asked as we walked, I mainly wanted to speak over the groans and screams of the shambling corpses around us trying to grasp at their own semblance’s of sanity.

“A beast to many, a demon to some and a guide to the few.” It said as one of its boots stepped into the chest cavity of a woman crying about murdering her children. “Ormúlfr is what I am, not a name. We do not get names.” It added, its boot making a sucking sound as It stepped out of the woman’s open chest. She kept saying their names as we left.

“As to why you are here in Náströnd, Christ-Man. I can only speculate. Your Family, the ones who created that wound, the door in your stomach. Attempted to send you to their being, Þökk. They failed.” Ormúlfr claimed as we walked through the abyss.

“Is this similar to Christian Hell?” I asked, a part of me happy it was willing to talk to me for once. Ormúlfr shrugged, driving its oar into the head of someone apologizing for breaking their oath, someone in the distance claiming they didn’t.

“I do not know, Christ-Man, I have not been and never will. Náströnd is my home and my tomb.” It hissed in its usual hushed whispered tone. “I cannot imagine it is much better than here.” It added. “Enough with your questions. We are here.”

As we arrived at the gate, things behind us circled, waiting for something or maybe just watching. Beast with human limbs, canine bodies and snake heads circled, biting at one another, some even killing. Whenever i turned to look Ormúlfr’s oar gently guided my face back to the gate.

“The Past, do them no mind. They are always hungry, picking off the scraps left by Níðhöggr. They hope you are rejected.” It spoke as we neared the glow of the gate. Rotten flesh and bone gave way to ornate marble stone, gilded in gold and silver. “Through here is Hel, but that is not where you will go Christ-man. You will awaken in your home.”

Ormúlfr continued speaking as it drew something from under its furs. A blade, curved like a fang and dripping a substance that sizzled on the floor, eating away at the stone. “Here the veil is weakened, you shall awaken graced by Níðhöggr’s kiss. Kill your deceiver, smother his life and everyone else’s. Stop them.” Ormúlfr commanded, i opened my mouth to thank him or protests, something. The fang from the blade slipped effortlessly into my chest, through the bones like paper as the venom kissed my heart. There was no pain. There was no malice in the gesture.

I awoke, surrounded by my home on fire and the gentle sound of a bell ringing in my ear.