A Bath In Lethe

It was a cold Autumn night. In a small, ordinary office in the University of Belton, Sparks flew from Professor Gastoffe’s fingers, quickly accompanied by bursts of flame. A wind blew, sending his papers flying. A ring of seven dim candles sitting in the center of the room flared up suddenly, forcing Gastoffe to shield himself from the heat.

The fire accumulated, suspended in midair above the candles, until it was a single swirling inferno of dark flames. Molten rock and lava began to drip from the fiery vortex, but it did not simply pool on the cold stone- it stacked until it had solidified into a slender, handsome humanoid with wings of shadow and rotten fangs of bone. A demon.

“God protect me,” Gastoffe muttered.

The demon’s amber eyes opened.

“Good evening, Gastoffe.” the monster said, its voice strangely smooth.

Gastoffe gulped, his body shaking.

“Be silent, fiend.” He said, his voice quivering. “I am your master. You obey me now.” And if Gastoffe had performed the ritual correctly, he would have been right.

The creature chuckled and nodded its head.

“As you wish. But you must tell me, first, what it is you seek- for all who play with fire are looking for something.”

“I want to forget.” Gastoffe told the demon. “I need to.” He paused. “Please, monster...”

The demon chuckled again, and licked its lips.

“Are you sure of this, my friend? Some things cannot be undone…”  

Gastoffe’s lip twitched. Perhaps he could still turn back…

“Yes.” He said before he could stop himself. “I’m certain.”

He had to forget- the guilt, the sirens, the screams, the sound of a gun popping like balloons. If he didn’t do something, Gastoffe knew he would go mad.

Before he could react, the demon snapped its fingers, and he was somewhere else.

The Professor opened his eyes and looked around. The world was red. He was on a winding path beneath an enormous cavern covered in hanging, jagged rocks. He knew that the red light came from somewhere, but he could not put his finger on it.

“Walk with me,” Said the demon’s silky voice at his shoulder. He turned, and sure enough there the fiend stood.

Gastoffe began down the path. After a time he came to a rotting stone bridge. A wind howled beneath it as he crossed.

An eerie feeling seized Gastoffe. Something in him decided to look beneath the bridge. Dread pooled in his stomach as he approached the edge. He knew that something horrible was waiting beneath.

A stretched, emaciated man hung from thorny chains attached to the bottom of the bridge. His body was thin and gaunt, and his bones stood out beneath his skin. The man moaned feebly.

“This man’s best friend married the woman he loved, and for that he murdered him.” explained the demon. “Here he will suffer for eternity, ever reminded of his crime.”

“How terrible…” Gastoffe muttered with horror.

“We are in Hell. What would you expect?” The demon said with an incredulous chuckle.

They continued along the narrow road.

Gastoffe’s mind wandered. Before long it stumbled upon the subject he ever strove to forget- the shooting.

It had been a warm evening in Summer, and classes were just ending at the University of Belton. Professor Gastoffe had been preparing to leave for the night, when someone knocked on his door.

He swung it open. Before him stood Jason, a pupil in Gastoffe’s literary history class. Jason was a struggling student. His grades were low, and he was shy and reserved, with a touch of, well, weirdness that was hard to ignore. To Gastoffe’s frustration, it was clear that the other students didn’t ignore it at all. He had heard numerous times that Jason was constantly bullied and shunned.

Gastoffe went out of his way to be kind to the boy, and Jason had grown to trust him. He frequently sought help in his studies, which is why it was no surprise to Gastoffe to find him outside of his door tonight.

“Jason! How good to see you. What is it?” Gastoffe asked amiably.

“Nothin’ much.” Jason mumbled. Something was wrong tonight. Jason’s demeanor was dark- and ashamed.

“I just thought I ought to let you know, Professor- well, you’ve- you’ve been good to me. And I wouldn’t want you to get hurt. All I’m trying to say is, please, stay home tomorrow. Don’t come in to teach.”

Abruptly, Jason turned away and rushed back down the hall.

“Jason- Jason, wait! What?”

But Jason was gone.

The voice of the demon brought Gastoffe back to the present.

“We are here.”
Before them lay a wide grey river. Its waters were thick and sluggish and dirty.

“This is the river Lethe.” Explained the demon calmly. “This is where you will forget.”

They stared at the dark water for a solemn moment.

The demon turned to Gastoffe.

“One bath in the river will wash it all away.” It told him.

“All of it?”

“Each and every memory.”

As if possessed, Gastoffe began shuffling towards the waters edge. Now that his relief was imminent, he found himself more anxious about his past choices and regrets, not less.

“I didn’t think Jason would do it…” Gastoffe told himself meekly as he approached the river. He scoffed.

“Liar.”

He moved closer.

“I shouldn’t have been a coward. I should have done something, anything. I never should have stayed home from school and left my fellow students and teachers to be murdered.”

He was almost to the edge of the river. He stopped for one final moment.

“Thirty people, dead, because of me. I can’t live with that. I am not strong enough.”

He sighed. A single tear rolled down his cheek. Then he let himself fall into the river.

Immediately his mind began to loosen. A weight lifted from his heart as The Professor fell into a deep, dark sleep.

The man awoke in his apartment, unsure of where he was or why. He had been having the strangest dream, but he remembered nothing of it… how uncanny. In fact, he remembered nothing at all.

The man stood and opened a window to let in some air. Perhaps it would help him think. What is my name? The man wondered, but it was like there was a thick fog in his mind that concealed what he should have known. Overwhelmed, he sat down again and began to massage his temples.

Somewhere in the night, carried on the wind, he heard a cold, infernal laugh of triumph, accompanied by a single whisper of the night:

“I warned you once, my friend. Some things cannot be undone…”

The End