The Monkey's Paw

There exists a book with no name. Its cover bears nothing but a strange glyph drawn in blood. Every page is well-worn and filled with Latin prayers a Roman priest wrote, hoping to contain the evils he saw within the book.

To say the book itself is evil is like a person in ancient times saying lightning is evil. The book and the powers it holds are merely outside our current realm of understanding.

Its contents have been a closely guarded secret for thousands of years, for those brave enough to open it knew its contents would spark mass panic.

The Book of Dark & Wicked Things, as it has come to be called, rebukes one of the biggest lies told in human history; monsters exist, and the book details the dark and evil creatures of the world.

Whether it is a hero leaving home, a legendary artifact being forged, or a powerful spell being cast, all journeys have their beginnings. From being enchanted in India to claiming its final victim in England, this legendary artifact has had quite the journey.

Any entry in The Book of Dark & Wicked Things that features a wish being granted is always guaranteed to end badly for the wisher. Even if the granter of the wishes bears no ill intent toward the wisher it seems that bending fate in an unnatural way causes the wishes to be granted in unintended and often tragic ways.

It is for this reason that the Monkey's Paw appears in The Book of Dark & Wicked Things. Neither the paw nor the magic that governs it is evil, it will give the wisher exactly what they wish regardless of the consequences.

The most recent encounter with the paw was detailed in W.W. Jacob's 1902 short story of the same name, but The Book of Dark & Wicked Things has detailed the first time the paw was used.

Three Wishes, Three Deaths

Two soldiers walked the main path of the village. Both wore red jackets with white collars and cuffs, black helmets and polished boots which were now coated in mud. They had long rifles slung to their shoulders for show.

“Why, in God’s name, are we in this mud pit?”One of the soldiers asked as he stopped at a post at the side of the path.

“Routine inspection,” the other answered as he stopped at the post to scrape mud off his boot. “To ensure all the empire is in the king’s peace.”

“He should be the one here trudging through this bloody mud then.”

“Mind that attitude, Edwards. Before the Sergeant-Major hears you.”

“Sergeant-Major Morris,” Edwards said with a laugh. “Now there is a joke. I tell you Williams, if I wasn’t afraid of the gallows I would…”

“You would what, Private Edwards?” A rigid voice said from behind them causing both to stand at attention.

“My apologies Sergeant-Major,” Edwards stated in a penitent tone. “I…”

“You were mouthing off again,” Morris replied as he stepped closer to Edwards. “Don’t like trudging through the mud?”

“No, Sergeant-Major. It isn’t my cup of tea.” Edwards sarcastically quipped.

Williams sighed, he knew he would be punished by proxy for Edwards' remark. Like always. Morris’ face flushed red with rage.

“That is too bad, because I have an errand for you and Private Williams.”

“What errand would that be, Sergeant-Major?” Williams asked in a calm voice to try to quell the storm.

“The old fakir of this village hasn’t been seen in a few days. He was ill and the villagers are concerned. Go to his home at the far end of the village and report back what condition he is in.”

“Yes Sergeant-Major,” Williams said as he nudged Edwards.

The two walked the muddy path through the village in silence.

“This is the fakir's home,” Edwards said as they reached the last structure before the path entered the jungle. “I’ve overheard some of the locals talk about him. They say he is skilled in the mystical arts.”

“Come on,” Williams said uneasily. “Let’s check on him and get back into the village.”

Edwards cast a suspicious look on Williams.

“Are you scared, Williams?”

“Not all, I just want to finish this and be back in the village before dusk.”

“Fair enough,” Edwards smiled as he walked into the structure.

“Edwards!” Williams followed but stopped at the threshold. “Edwards!!”

Williams crept to the door and entered the structure. The structure was old, the walls were bare stone with cracks from years of wear. Shelves held many items Williams did not recognize but made him feel uneasy. A strange feeling hung in the air and Williams could not help but look around the room.

“Williams,” Edwards called from an alcove in the wall at the opposite end of the room. “You can shoulder your weapon, I found the fakir.”

“What is his condition?” Williams asked as he sighed with relief and slung his rifle.

“He’s not long for this world.”

Williams crossed the room and saw the fakir on a mat. Edwards was crouched next to the man to comfort him, but Williams knew Edwards was right, the fakir was in his final moments of life. As he neared Edwards and the fakir Williams bumped into a table knocking several items to the floor. He bent down to pick up the items, but one caught his attention and made him stop, a mummified arm of a monkey. He stood up with the monkey’s arm in his hand.

“Williams,” Edwards said from behind him.

Williams turned and saw both Edwards and the fakir staring at him. The fakir said something in a low voice that Williams could not hear.

“What did he say?” Williams asked Edwards while still holding the paw.

“He said to put that back where you found it.”

“Can you ask him what it is?”

“Williams, he doesn’t want…”

“Edwards!”

Edwards turned to the old man and asked him about the paw. Williams watched as the old man responded.

“He said he blessed it,” Edwards translated. “It will grant three men three wishes. But he said not to use it.”

“Why not?”

“The wishes it grants… they bend fate in an unnatural way.”

“Is that not the point of a wish?”

Edwards began to respond but the old man grabbed his shoulder. The fakir was trembling violently as he stared up at Edwards. Edwards tried to help the man, but the fakir passed in his arms. Edwards closed the old man’s eyes and stood up.

“We should report this…”

He turned and found Williams staring at the paw.

“Williams?”

“Yes,” Williams said as he glanced up at Edwards. “We should report back to the Sergeant-Major.”

“Put that thing down like the old man said!”

“What if the old man was telling the truth?”

“Telling the truth, about magical wishes that he told us not to do?”

“How do we know though…”

“You honestly will not let this go?

“I just want to know.”

Edwards sighed and shook his head.

“If it would get your ass moving we will have to test it. Wish for something simple, something that could not go wrong.”

“Like what?”

“Wish for the paw to send me back home. The worst that could happen is nothing, I would still be here. Right?”

Williams smiled and held the paw with both hands in front of him.

“I wish Edwards could return home.”

A brief silence fell in the room before Edwards started to laugh.

“Like I said, a bunch of superstitious nonsense. Now will you get a move on? We are due back.”

Edwards watched as Williams stared at the paw before taking off his pack to stow it. Edwards took his rifle from his shoulder and rested the stock on the ground by his feet.

“I can’t believe you are going to put that wretched thing in…”

Williams secured the paw in his pack and saw Edwards lose his balance as he tried to lean on his rifle and topled on top of it.

“Edwards!” Williams rushed to Edwards' side, but he did not respond. “Edwards!”

Williams pushed Edwards over and a spray of blood hit his face. Williams wiped the blood from his face and saw the bayonet of the rifle had impaled Edwards’ neck. Blood streamed from Edwards’ mouth as he reached for Williams.

“Lie still!” Williams said as he took Edwards’ hand.

Edwards stared at Williams until the life had left his eyes. Williams let go of Edwards’ hand and closed his eyes.

***

Two soldiers covered Edwards’ body as Sergeant-Major watched. He turned and approached Williams who was watching the men lift Edwards’ body and take it out of the fakir’s home. Three soldiers flanked the Sergeant-Major with their rifles at the ready.

“Private Williams you will explain what happened here!”

“That is the problem sir, I cannot explain what happened…”

“How did Private Edwards impale himself on his own bayonet?!”

“He… I… wished it…”

“What?”

“We… we found… a talisman. The fakir told us he had blessed it so three men could each make three wishes, but he told us not to use it. Edwards… I wished…”

“Private Williams, do you honestly expect me to believe…”

“I have it,” Williams turned and took the paw out of his pack and stared at it.

“Private.” Morris said to rouse Williams out of the trance. “Private!”

“Yes, yes Sergeant-Major?”

“I do not believe for one moment that rotten paw…”

“I am telling you the truth!”

“You are telling me that you wished for his death and this paw made it happen?”

“No, he had me wish for him to be able to return home.”

“Well, he is returning home now. But I do not believe this paw had anything to do with this. I believe you killed Edwards!”

“I didn’t! It was the…”

“Enough!” Morris screamed as his face turned beat red and a look of frustration came over him. “If you want me to believe you didn’t murder Edwards, that it was that wretched paw then prove it! Wish for me to believe your story!”

Williams' face went white.

“Sergeant-Major…”

“Now!”

“I… wish…” Williams said as he trembled with the paw in his hands. “I wish for the Sergeant-Major to believe my story…”

Williams held his breath as the room fell silent.

“It appears even your talisman has forsaken you now,” Morris remarked as he turned to one of the soldiers. “Arrest him.”

“Yes Sergeant-Major!” The soldier obediently replied.

The soldier shouldered his rifle and pulled a set of cuffs from his belt. He took a step toward Williams, but slipped on Edwards' blood. His rifle fell from his hands as he slid and struck the ground stock first. A loud bang rang through the room and the blood spurted from the soldier’s neck. The soldier topled backward as his comrades rushed to his aid.

“What happened?” Morris demanded as he caught the soldier.

“His rifle discharged!” One of the other soldiers shouted as he helped Morris lower the wounded man to the floor.

“It was the paw…” Williams said as he cast the paw to the floor. “I told you…”

“Enough Private!” Morris barked as he tried to help his wounded soldier. “This was an accident…”

“No, it was the paw! I wished for you to believe and the paw caused an accident that is almost impossible to believe had we not watched it happen! Just like it did with Edwards! And I wished for him to go home…”

The wounded soldier spat blood as his eyes went blank.

“I wished for both men to die…” Williams said despondently as he stared at the paw.

“Give me that,” Morris said as he reached for the paw. “Arrest him and burn that wretched paw!”

The soldiers advanced on Williams.

“I wished for their deaths…” Williams sullenly backed away from Morris and the other soldiers. “And I wish I was dead too.”

A large stone fell from the ceiling and struck Williams on the head. He crumpled to the floor, the paw still clutched in his hands. The soldiers rushed to his side but he was already dead. One pulled the paw from Williams’ hands.

“Give that to me,” Morris said from behind the man.

“You commanded us to burn this sir.”

“I have lost enough men to this talisman,” Morris said as he took the paw from the soldier. “I will dispose of it myself. Collect our dead and report the fakir’s death to the village leader.”

“Yes sir!”

Morris walked outside with the paw in hand. He stopped a short distance from the fakir’s home and examined the paw. He hesitated for a moment before he held the paw out in front of him.

“I wish…”