The Seven Chairs

Written for VCU ENGL 307: Teaching Writing Skills
Spring 2011

This piece was written for an assignment in which we were given several images from The Mysteries of Harris Burdick and asked to write a story based on one of the images and using the caption for that image.

The fifth one ended up in France.

Click the title to get to the full text.

A long time ago, the church records say it was 1654, there was a strange occurrence near a small mountain village high up in the French Alps. The events that took place there largely went unnoticed. Nowadays if you ask the locals, they'll tell you that the chapel up the mountain is known to be frequented by spirits, but none of them have ever seen anything themselves or even heard of anyone who has. The only anomaly you might find, upon further investigation, is a small excerpt strangely placed in the church record book. It is a brief description of the events that occurred on December 8, 1654. The tale was written down by the village priest many years later. He claimed that he had first heard the story from the old woodcutter not long before he died.

It was pitch black night, or at least that's how I remember it. We had gone to bed, yes, and I'm most certain we had just fallen asleep, when I heard this horrible screaming, seemed to drift down from the mountain. Well, my wife heard it too, and we both looked at each other. Thought it was that damn fool of a boy, he's always getting into trouble: falling out of some tree or tumbling down some precarious slope. And in the middle of the night too! Very little sympathy in our hearts, waking us up at that hour. What was he thinking to go climbing around like a damn goat in the dark of a new moon. But then the wailing just kept on, and there was something about it that, that just...wasn't right. My wife must have noticed it first, because I saw the anger drain out of her eyes. That's when I noticed it. The screams were long and torturous, not like the bellows of pain the boy makes when he falls down the slopes. We were just starting to worry that maybe something really bad had happened to him when his face, as pale a sheet appeared in the doorway of our room.

I was having trouble falling asleep, so I decided to climb up to the old chapel. Lord how my father always used to scold me not to go out tramping around the mountainside at night, but his fears where far from my mind as I climbed up the rocky slope. It didn't matter if it was pitch black or high noon, I had traveled that path so many times, I knew every crevice and toe hold, every chimney and outcropping. It took me no time at all to get up to the old chapel. I immediately noticed that something was strange. There was a strange smell in the air, and a faint light illuminated the windows of the grand old building. I had never seen anyone else at the chapel before then, and was immediately curious as to what could be making the glow. What I saw as I snuck in through the side door of the chapel will forever be engraved in my memory as one of the strangest scenes I have ever witnessed. I still don't quite understand exactly what I saw, but I will try to present the most accurate account I can. As I walked in the door I first noticed that there were three strange men in the center of the chapel hall, bathed in the glow of a light that was just out of sight down the length of the hall. They were all dressed in what looked to be some type of monk's garb, but they were obviously not all friends. Two of them, who had strange hats on as well, were standing over the third who was tied to a chair. The third man had hair unlike anything I have ever seen. It was pitch black and so long it seemed he must have never cut it, but the front half of his head had recently been shaved clean. Just as I entered the chapel the light began to increase greatly and one of the captors shouted out something in a strange unrecognizable language.

I couldn't believe our luck, the fifth one ended up in France. I was sure those lying curs had steered us on a wild goose chase. But I guess you never can tell with these Han scoundrels, they sure are strange. Of course we shaved his head immediately. Had to take away his pride. What sort of damned fool won't cut their hair? Didn't bother giving him a queue, since we were about to kill him anyway. Only a weak fool would have even contemplated letting him keep his precious hair. I can't even understand how he thought he could get away from the Great Qing Emperor himself. Even if we hadn't had the divine presence, we could have captured that imposter. The first four were tough, but all this one knew how to do was run away. And run he did. I'm not exactly sure where this France place is. I know it is far outside the Middle Kingdom, but with the help of the divine presence we just sort of appeared there. It is not my place to question the ways of the Great Qing Emperor, but it did scare me somewhat. I had never before witnessed his incredible power.

I knew from the start that the fifth of the imposters had fled to France. He knew my power reached to all the corners of the East where he might have hoped to flee. That idiotic underling couldn't have understood the situation if I explained it to him a thousand times. But of course that is what underlings are for. He is quite loyal, and dumb as a dog. It did give me some pleasure hearing him berate the imposter as I prepared for the killing blow. I did not care so much about the whole hair issue, but since such a loyal dog seemed so bent on it and there was no harm to be done to my cause by it, I let them strip the imposter of his precious Ming pride. All I really cared about was seeing him dead. It had already taken much too long to round up all of the imposters. And on top of that the fifth one had forced me to intervene personally. Before we headed for France, I had a strong inclination to kill the damned underlings who let him get out of China. But they are quite loyal and I thought maybe they could prove useful at a later date. Of course the journey nearly killed them anyway. Once we had successfully teleported to the general area of the fifth imposter, it was not difficult at all to sense his presence in the abandoned building high up the mountain. By the time my two underlings had climbed up, I had the situation well under control. Of the seven, the fifth was most definitely the strongest. It was quite an intense battle, but not even the strongest of the Ming imposters could stand up to my infinite power. When those idiotic lackeys rushed up waving their swords around like imbeciles, I already had the imposter sealed to a chair to await his punishment. I did like the initiative the younger lackey put forth in trying to interrogate the prisoner. I knew he would get nothing, but it is always nice to see my minions trying to help me, no matter how futile their struggle may be.

As soon as we reached the clifftop, we charged into the old building with swords drawn, ready to lay down our lives for the Great Qing Emperor. I don't know why we thought we could be of any help. The Great Qing Emperor had already defeated and bound the imposter. With his divine permission, I commenced to interrogate the prisoner. Where were the other imposters? Were there really only two more? My partner was more interested in humiliating the prisoner than gaining information from him, but the Great Qing Emperor seemed to be pleased with both of our efforts. The Emperor can act quite strangely at times. Sometimes even more strangely than the Ming imposters. This particular imposter was obviously an honorable man. I could tell he had information about his companions, but no matter how much I tortured him he would not talk. Even when that idiot decided to shave his hair off, he refused to give us any information. He merely seemed to be waiting patiently for us to end his life.

My plan was carried out to perfection. My companions had sown the rumor exactly as expected, and I had found the perfect location for the battle. I had been certain, that by using the strange foreign terrain to my advantage, I could defeat that damn Qing imposter in single combat. Of the seven I had always been the strongest in combat both physically and spiritually. The battle was short but very intense. I had never faced an opponent of such power. Before that time I had always assumed the rumors of the power wielded by the “Great Qing Emperor” to be heavily exaggerated. I thought, foolishly it turns out, that by getting him away from his followers and then forcing him into single combat, he could be defeated even if the rumors were not exaggerated. It turns out they were understated if anything. He arrived many weeks before I expected, taking me off guard and reversing the situation. I had no time to acclimate myself to my surroundings, so when the fight commenced they were just as strange for me as I had hoped they would be for the Qing imposter. I'm sure he must have expended a great amount of energy to travel so quickly from the Far East, but I could not tell in his fighting strength. The only battle I have ever lost was in training with my master, but this Qing imposter bested me within a half hour's time. I doubt the other two can best him. It looks as though the Great Ming Empire really is at an end.