Marvel’s Mansion of Macabre

Another Friday Fictioneers offering. Photo courtesy of John Nixon.

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Marvel stared at the item from the back of the crowd. The rest of the bidders chattered excitedly.
         “What a find!”
         “Didn’t know there were any still around. Did you?”
         “Thought they were banned…”
         The legs twitched once. Marvel grinned. It was in pristine condition. This much excitement among people who knew what it was–or thought they did. He pushed his way through the crowd. It parted before him, whispering.
         “Is that…?”
         “Can’t be…”
         “I heard he was dead.”
         “Four hundred thousand Krona,” Marvel said.
         “Sold!”
         This particular soul was the perfect addition, a bargain. His collection at last complete.



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40 thoughts on “Marvel’s Mansion of Macabre

  1. I actually like the ambiguity you had developed, until you stated it at the end “the imprisoned soul of joy and innocence…” The build up “Thought they were banned…” was brilliant. Perhaps re-write the last line, leaving it up the the readers imagination as to what exactly was bought here. Maybe go all cartoon villain “At last!” Marvel cried, rubbing his hands with glee. “My collection is complete!”

  2. Pingback: 32 Flavours and Then Some | Being the Memoirs of Helena Hann-Basquiat, Dilettante.

  3. That’s really good. Wasn’t expecting the ending (either version). (Does he keep the souls in a box or an album? I wonder.) I’m intrigued to know who Marvel is. The crowd seemed aware of him. Someone special.

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