Poe Stories: Things That Go Lump in the Night — Skyloft Green

Things were finally looking up for Fledge, all things considered. After a shortage in food supplies in Skyloft resulting from Demise’s wrath across Hyrule, his fellow knight-in-training, Link, went down to the Surface to defeat evil incarnate. However, as rumors spread that Link was spending more time breaking pots than fighting monsters, panic-buying set in, and the economy in Skyloft crumbled. After some political turmoil, though, new leaders sought to improve conditions, and suddenly Fledge and his friends were all eating heartily again.

Fledge loved to frequent the Lumpy Pumpkin in particular, as he enjoyed the ambiance and crowd. Even when he developed a cough that wouldn’t go away, the staff at the Pumpkin never turned him away, and scorned those in town who did. Night in and night out, Fledge flocked over to the Pumpkin for a cozy, warm bowl of pumpkin meat stew. While Fledge was a full-time regular at the Pumpkin, he noticed that he was really the only one. People would come by a few days over the course of a fortnight, and then never show back up. For how communal Skyloft could be, it was still a transient place in the Sky, and so Fledge thought nothing of it.

Usually, the staff were polite to everyone, regardless of how frequently they attended. Over the months, though, Fledge began to notice moments where his usually friendly wait staff were more curt and crass with him than usual. At first he figured it was one person having a bad day, but as he saw it more and more from different employees, he began to wonder if he was doing something wrong. One day he found the courage to ask Kina, the daughter of the store owner, if he had done something to offend them, or if he was no longer welcome. Kina, with a smile that barely reached her eyes, reassured Fledge that any negative impressions he had were just the downstream effects of some workplace drama, which she was ashamed to admit had caused a lot of stress at the Pumpkin.

“Glad I don’t have to deal with kind of stuff!” Fledge said, as he was currently unemployed as a full-time attendee at the Knight’s Academy. Fledge finished his mug of pumpkin juice and left for the night.

The next day, Fledge’s cough seemed to finally go away. In place of it, though, was a light red, stone-tough bulge in his abdomen. The bulge certainly alarmed Fledge, and after a day of training, he felt a lack of appetite where there would normally be one. Nevertheless, he made his way to the Lumpy Pumpkin, like he did every night.

The staff seemed to have resolved their issues, and they were in much better spirits — almost relieved, it would seem. Fledge felt welcomed again, and as he sat down, he felt the weight of the foreign bump in him sink him deeper into the sofa he always found himself in. He chatted cordially with the other patrons, and retired for the evening a bit earlier than usual.

Fledge had never greeted the day with such overwhelming pain as he felt the next morning. Barely rolling out of bed, he crawled his way to the Academy sick bay. The nurses looked at him pensively, almost with a sense of timid resignation, as they told him that this was something they had heard about.

“We heard the other ward saw four cases of this last week,” they informed Fledge. “And we know that there is a procedure the new doctors have uncovered. We’d love to treat you, but…” the nurse who was speaking turned away with a look of resignation in her eyes. After the new leaders came to power, common medical operations and resources that were once available for free now cost more than most people could dream to afford. Even the Academy, which once famously provided free healthcare to its knights, had to begin redirecting them to other sources. Fledge knew about these new doctors — their methodology was boasted as highly effective, and with this new outbreak of an odd condition, were providing medical services free of charge to help discover a preventive cure. Fledge crawled into the wheelchair they provided him and rolled his way to the other side of Skyloft.

As he wheeled his way around the lake, it dawned on Fledge that today might be the first day in many weeks that he wouldn’t make it to the Lumpy Pumpkin. Would they notice? He followed the signs around the waterfall and entered the cave where the new doctors resided. Fledge was ready to get this bulge out of him and replace it with the preferred bulge of a stomach full of pumpkin meat stew…

Fledge was greeted by the doctor — pale, slender, and sleek. He warmly welcomed Fledge down the dewed corridors of the wet cavern, deeper into the ground that stood between the surface of Skyloft and the clouded abyss below. As they made their way through the cave, Fledge began to experience a familiar sensation — one of a spicy warmth he had come to know so well. Then it dawned on him: he was smelling the unique spices that coated the walls of the Lumpy Pumpkin.

Before he could process how this bizarre coincidence could come to be, the doctor locked Fledge into his seat, and his wheelchair suddenly felt more like a gurney. The doctor calmly slipped out his glove and pulled liquid into his syringe. “You’ll be out for just a few minutes, just to bypass the pain,” he said reassuringly.

Fledge took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Fledge awoke in a crowded room, his vision blurry. As he bent his knee, he quickly encountered his stomach, which had ballooned beyond his comprehension. Fledge attempted to reach for the ground, only to find himself unable to reach beyond his outstretched torso. Before he could see well enough, the smell of the pumpkins came on, stronger than ever. He took a deep breath, and for a moment, felt a freshness in his body that he hadn’t felt in years.

“I must be on the mend,” Fledge said to himself, and closed his eyes to slip back into a post-operation recovery slumber.

When Fledge opened his eyes again, he was met by a bright light and the silhouettes of the doctor and another figure standing above him. While he felt no immediate pain, he sensed that his body had been open, and that an extraction was taking place. He craned his neck to try to see what was happening, and caught from the top of the crest of his stomach a slimy orange goo being pulled out from inside him. The smell of pumpkins filled him with a sickness and a comfort at the same time, as he mustered a staggered inquiry to the doctor, who shook his finger at Fledge, indicating to not press his energy. Fledge tried staying awake this time, but was eventually overtaken by exhaustion.

He woke up after what felt like an eternal slumber, and dreams of a howling void. He woke up feeling… carved. Weaker than he ever felt, Fledge meagerly opened his eyes and looked around the room. Around him he saw familiar clothes, and what seemed like once familiar faces, now contorted, distorted, and squashed. Fledge breathed in to speak, only to feel the air escape through the hollowed contents his body had now become. The ground was littered with the limbs of others, wrapped in vines, skin an unnaturally burnt orange hue. He heard the door of the room swing open, and watched the doctor and another equally-slender soul slide into the room. The other figure bent down, his face grey and eyes long, taking a deep smell in, and then lashing his tongue out tauntingly at Fledge.

“You never had a proper hand dealt, did ya, Kid?” the figure mockingly asked. “Well, you’ll breathe peacefully in our rich soil, knowing that you are giving back to a world and a cause much greater than yourself!”

Fledge recognized the voice now: it was a new commander at the Knight Academy, who entered their position around the same time as the shift in power in Skyloft was taking place. He tried to stand, but it wasn’t just his own weakness holding him back this time: he was rooted into the ground, vines drifting up and down his limbs.

“I’m afraid your time as Fledge is short. Your new self will serve a grand purpose, though… your demise will meet our Demise, and through you and him… we shall rise!” The commander cackled before walking off and shutting the door behind him.

Fledge looked outward, confused and dejected, and as he felt himself fade away, he felt a taste rise up in his mouth, as blood sputtered out of his lips: pumpkin meat stew.

Do you enjoy a good ghost story around this time of the year? Have you got any Poe stories of your own? Let us know in the comments below!

Josh Wittmershaus

Josh Wittmershaus is a writer at Zelda Dungeon. Originally from Erie, Pennsylvania, he now resides in Northern California. Aside from Zelda, Josh enjoys playing music, seeing live music, music history, and all other things music. He also enjoys skating, hockey, and the occasional political or philosophical thought exercise.