Where The Tigers came from.

WHERE THE TIGERS CAME FROM nobody knew. My sleepy quiet English village had never known anything fiercer than the eyes of a raven. The tigers roamed in slow unfiltered strides, their eyes flashing with the power of thunder. Their shadows attached themselves to whatever they came into contact with. Dead bodies were scattered throughout the village. Blood flowed like a river towards the sea, down into the drains and the great sense of pity had manifested into a mist that darkened every corner. Even the flowers and the trees had been taken over by the wild shapes of the tigers, unable to breathe in the light of their roots. 

The tigers sometimes slept next to their prey, only waking to gorge once again. Other times they would fight one another, the sound of which sending shivers all around. The shiver vibrated low and caged the heart to its own mortal flesh. 

One of my neighbours had ran out of food, lost so much weight for fear of going out and became so desperate to eat she considered eating the flesh of those killed by the tigers. I saw her poking her head out the front door, hoping it was safe to venture out into the street, cautiously opening the door wider and wider. I understood the strange emotions that emitted from her skin. Nervously, she walked out the door, carefully keeping an eye on her surroundings and made her way towards a dead body that lay stagnant on the road. She got to the dead body, quickly ripped of two pieces of flesh and ran back inside. I imagined her cooking the two pieces of flesh and ravishing the horror of her meal. 

My wife and I were becoming close to the same desperation. All we had in our cupboards were pasta, beans and three tea bags. I drank tea to calm my nerves; the warm texture of its aroma soothed my mind. There were some houses in the village where the tigers had taken over, the people inside either ripped apart or hiding in a room where the tigers had not yet broken into. There was an incident where an ambush of tigers gathered in our back garden, trying to get in through the back door, the snarl of their growls and the sharp tips of their claws gnawing at the glass. We could do nothing but run upstairs and hope they did not break through. They didn’t at that time but the possibility persisted and nagged in the pit of our stomachs. To help with the gut-wrenching anxiety I spent time reading books and exercising, push ups, sit ups and other such exertion. My wife busied herself with crosswords and doodling in notebooks. We knew at some point all our resources would run out and we would have to either starve or try our luck with the tigers and escape. At night the sound of the tiger’s paws pulsated through the ground and into our veins. The tigers even entered our dreams, appearing as small domesticated cats, then transforming into big bipedal wild felines and then with mythical teeth came charging, at which point the dream would dissolve into our unconscious and we would awake with pounding hearts. 

 

The sun rose and the sun fell, and soon vultures arrived to feast on the rotten corpses, like dark angels hovering above. Mrs Edwards, who was experiencing starvation, mistook the vultures for actual angels, begged for them to take her away, only to be mauled to death by a tiger on the prowl. 

I soon realised, there was not much of the population of the village left and my wife was beginning to show signs of disorder. She was becoming irregular and disconnected---In other words she was going mad. 

As the days and nights passed us by and our resources were running out, her madness only grew worse. She was having hallucinations. She was blushing before the holy alter, her cheeks red as wine, and her eyes sank into her soul. I stared into her eyes and saw the vision of John the Baptist, who placed his hand upon my head and told me the kingdom of heaven is at hand. My wife then passed out and fell asleep and I did the same. 

After a month or so, at the break of a dawn, we decided to make a break for it. There was no immediate sign of danger, so we made our way out into the street. We looked into one another’s eyes, kissed and prayed. Two vultures were across from us, sitting upon a tree branch. We made our way down the street, becoming faster and faster as we became more confident. We got to the corner at the end of the road and stopped. We glanced around the corner, only to see a group of tigers with large hungry eyes. Then out of nowhere, another group were behind us with eyes just as hungry. We held each other’s hand, kissed, embraced and stared into one another’s eyes and saw the vision of Christ, who placed his hands upon our heads and told us the kingdom of heaven is at hand. Our eyes sank into the deep palace of our love, and on the throne of that palace we sat, as king and queen with the knowing of royal wisdom. 

Where the tigers came from, we finally knew. 

Reviews

[Haley]

This is such an interesting read and makes you think. It reminds me of the need to face a fear, or even a trauma, and the way in which that is done - do you be like the husband, preparing, exercising, or the wife and distract. In the end does the fear consume you if you cannot out run it or is it enough to face it and fight through it? Really great job, I loved reading it as always.