The Anjikuni Village Mystery

FOREWORD

Oliver Cromwell lived between 1599 and 1658. His body was exhumed and he was posthumously punished for his genocide like actions during when he lived.

Disconnectedly, in 1930 AD., the disappearance of the inhabitants of the Inuit (Eskimo) village at Lake Anjikuni, Canada, is also real. All the inhabitants of the village disappeared without a trace. Also, what is curious is that even the bodies from the village cemetery had been exhumed. Not a single buried body was found.

About 30 years later, In 1960 AD., an oval plaque was installed at the chapel at the Sidney Sussex College at Cambridge, England, which read -- "Near to this place was buried, on 25 March 1960, the head of OLIVER CROMWELL, Lord Protector of the Commonwealth of England, Scotland & Ireland, Fellow Commoner of this College, 1616-7."

STORY

November, 1930 AD., Caribou Inuit, Lake Anjikuni, Canada.

A little away from the village, in a clearing below a tree, Joe Pollard was huddled around a wood fire. The sun had set at two fifteen in the afternoon. His inner jacket made from sea mammals' intestines and the outer caribou skin parka did little to stop Joe shivering in the severe arctic cold. Opposite him sat the shaman of the Inuit village, his friend, Nootaikok. Joe, although was an immigrant European, had come to believe in his friends abilities, and subscribed to his beliefs. Joe puled a wooden box from his satchel.

"What I am going to tell you now, Nootaikok, will you promise not to tell another soul?" Joe asked.

"I may promise, my friend, but we know these trees and rocks have souls and ears."

"Yet, I need you to promise. On the spirits you protect before their reincarnation."

Nootaikok remained silent, contemplating, listening to the wind. Then, he nodded. "Yes, I promise, for you."

Joe was afraid of the trees and the air listening in. He pulled his parka together, moved over to sit near Nootaikok, bent over and whispered, "This box, contains a human head."

Nootaikok quickly moved away from Joe and his box.

"Why are you carrying this foul object with you?!" he asked, "You are a fur trapper!"

"I am just a courier for the box. I am to deliver this to someone in a far off land. I am being paid a lot of money for this work and we need money to survive in our harsh lands, Nootaikok."

"Why are you telling me this?" Nootaikok asked. He was shivering too.

"Because I need your help. I am afraid."

"Why?"

"Listen patiently," Joe said, "The head belonged to a ruler of a far off land called England. His name was Oliver Cromwell."

The wind howled, threatening to douse the fire.

Joe continued, "This man was a cruel ruler. He lived about three hundred years ago, tortured and killed many of his subjects for his pleasures and whims. When he died, he was buried. His subjects, however remained angry and discontent to let him go. They decided that they deserved revenge. They disinterred his body, and conducted an execution. They severed his head from his torso and impaled it on an iron spike lashed to a large public building, where it stayed for twenty seven years. Collectors from many places wanted to have the head for themselves."

Nootaikok cringed.

Joe said, "The head changed many hands. Now, I am carrying it for someone in Europe. It will be a voyage of several months. As long as this head is in its box, it is safe... I am afraid, Nootaikok. The only person I could turn to, was you. Will you help me?"

Noontaikok pointed to the box. "A split body is the abode of bad spirits."

"Help me, Nootaikok," Joe pleaded.

After much thought, the shaman said, "Leave the box with me as long as the darkness prevails. I will tell you what can be done to carry it safely. That is all I can do, my friend."

"Thank you, Nootaikok, thank you!" said Joe, relived.

"Come see me tomorrow, after the sun has come up, when you see the chimneys fill with smoke," Nootaikok pointed towards the village, "There are no wolves here."

Nootaikok picked up the box, and walked back towards the village and his hut.

#

The night had been quiet. When the sun rose at around eight, Joe walked towards the village. That is when he noticed. Most of chimneys did not have any smoke rising from them. Odd. He took a roundabout route, walking along the fence of the settlement to reach Nootaikok's hut at the further end.

"Nootaikok!" he called in a loud whisper.

No answer. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. The bed in which Nootaikok must have slept was visible. He came out and went around the hut. He found no tracks of anyone anywhere.

"NOOTAIKOK!" he called into the morning air. No reply.

He went inside the hut again. Along a wall, the box lay open. The dried human head stuck to the iron spike was planted into the floor. The eerie display sent chills down Joe's spine and he ran out of the hut.

The fool opened the box!

He walked fast. There were no sounds anywhere in the village. Nobody outside. Not even the sled dogs. Joe stepped into another hut. No one. He ran to another hut which had smoke coming out of the chimney. He saw a stew boiling away on a fire. But again, there was no one in the hut. He ran through the village. The village was completely deserted. Nobody had taken any belongings. The huts seemed to not be disturbed or dishevelled. Joe panicked.

Surely, this must have something to do with the head!

He broke into a run. He needed to get far away from the cursed place. He crossed the clearing of the settlement and ran into a walking trail amidst dense growth of trees. He kept running and unexpectedly came onto a fresh clearing. He stopped running. The scene in front of him curdled his blood. Wooden spikes. Lots of them. Planted on the ground. All of them had a head perched on it. Human heads. The blood trickling down the spikes was fresh. Joe stood there, his head screaming in pain, panicking.

In the still scene of horror, small movements became terrifying. He clearly saw, a pair of eyes pop open. It was the head of Nootaikok. "Joe..," it said, in a rasping whisper.

Joe's feet found ground and he ran. His lungs cried for air, but his leg kept moving. He ran like he had never before.

The End.