Nidhögg

Josh laid back in his recliner and flipped through the channels on his television. Peering down at his watch he realized that it was nearing nine o’clock. He kicked the built-in footrest down and hopped out of the seat. Taking the elevator downstairs, he contemplated where he was going to eat.

As he stepped out of his apartment building, he breathed in the pungent aroma of his beloved Pittsburgh. It was a mix of human urine and the polluted oil floating atop the Allegheny River. Smelled like home to him.

Walking through downtown at night was always a gamble. He spent his time avoiding the homeless and the cheap hookers at every corner while trying to navigate the maze they called a street system. Heading down Liberty Ave he finally made his way to the Market Square where his final destination rest. Sitting in the back of the square was his favorite restaurant. The famous Primanti Brothers, the only place you can get a philly style sandwich with the perfect blend of coleslaw and french fries.

A jingle resounded as he stepped through the door. His friend Joe stood behind the counter with a gigantic spatula and a kind smile.

“The usual tonight, Josh?” Joe asked.

“You know me all to well my friend,” He responded.

Twirls of flavor wafted from the surface of the grill as Joe threw down a handful of steakums. While they cooked, he put two large pieces of sour dough bread to toast with all the flavors of the burgh. When everything was done he slapped it all together and wrapped it in wax paper. Then handing it to Josh, he gave him a wink. “Made with the perfect ingredients and topped with a dash of love.”

“You’re a real bleeding heart there Joe.” Josh laughed.

As he walked outside back into the Market Square he noticed something very odd. It was a Friday night and the regular crowd of drunken college kids was surrounding the small stage in the southern part of the square rocking to a local punk band. Everything seemed relatively normal for a Friday, except there was a small ash tree off to the side of the garden in the middle. A lone street lamp seemed bent to shine its beam of light and illuminate the tree.

Curiosity over took him. His head tilted as he approached it. He rested his hand down on a root jutting out of the ground and suddenly felt a sharp pain. A fire burned in the pit of his stomach and his eyes began shifting from their normal ice blue to a pale white. He began talking uncontrollably, words he had never heard before. His voice was an unfamiliar guttural sound like that of a wild beast.

“She saw a hall standing, far from the sun, in Náströnd!” His voice spat like flames.

Some of the college kids noticed and walked over to him to see what was going on. They saw the sandwich which was gripped in his hands being squeezed through his fingers. It fell from his grip as his hand unfurled and bent resembling that of the claws of an eagle.

“Its doors are northward turned; venom-drops fall in through its apertures: entwined is that hall with serpent’s backs,” His voice barked, becoming more bestial with every syllable.

“Hey dude, what the hell’s wrong with you man.” A college kid asked him.

“She there saw wading, the sluggish streams bloodthirsty men and perjurers, and him who the ear beguiles of another’s wife!” Josh cried out falling to his knees. His back bent backwards forcing the top of his head to touch the ground. A faint light emanated from his eyes like smoke rising from newly created ashes.

A girl backed away from him and yelled, “This isn’t right! This guy’s freaking me out! Look at his eyes!”

“There Nidhögg sucks the corpses of the dead; the wolf tears men. Understand ye yet, or what?” He gurgled out of his mouth, which no longer resembled anything he once was. It was slowly becoming something else, like a wild animal, a lizard. Dark hairs sprouted from his skin, and where there was none looked like sandpaper.

Josh was beginning to grow. He was now twice his original size. His arms began bending and his legs anchored him to the ground. The joints of his arms and legs were contorting and exploding in muscle that was never there. Then suddenly two gigantic wings sprouted from his back like small explosions. His body elongated as he dropped to all fours.

Everyone around him began backing away. Then fear paralyzed them to the spot as they stared at what looked to them like a medieval dragon. Twenty feet tall his head finalized the transformation and two long horns sprouted from his temples.

“From below the dragon dark comes forth, Nidhögg flying from Náströnd; The bodies of men on his wings he bears, The serpent bright: but now must I sink and deliver those unworthy from the depths of Ragnarök!” Nidhögg bellowed..

People began to scream and run in a chaotic tangle of bodies. Then Nidhögg opened his mouth and the corpse’s of men long dead fell to the ground. They rose from the street and ensnared the living. They bit into them, pulling their souls into their own. The bodies fell limp to the ground. Nidhögg brought his gigantic wings down and the souls now in their new hosts climbed onto the ancient membrane. He then descended into the ash tree. The lamp which illuminated the tree flickered and died, leaving the square barren and dark. To what the tree could see there was life no more.

Word Count 950