Grünland

This is the third story from PAST.  Hint: the main character’s Greenlandic.

Grünland

In the land of snow, evil is awakening…

Chapter 1: the key to Grünland

 

11-year-old Juulutaq Kaanak lived in Nuuk, Greenland. He had been living there his whole life apart from a few weeks, after he was born, when he lived in northern Denmark. All he could remember of that was the memory of drinking a Scandinavian fruit shoot.

His mum, Helena Kaanak, a 43-year old wildlife ranger, had just bought a new house, which smelled strange. The smell was like an exploded oven full of fish eyes, which still remained a mystery to its origin. The rooms were large, and posh, and the dining room could fit twenty people. One room had been banned, because the last owners of the house said it contained evil curses. Apart from that, it was a very nice house.

Juulutaq sat in a chair, waiting for his mum to finish dinner. The food was broccoli, cabbage and Walrus meat, which only the rich could afford. Helena did not want to waste this food, so she ate it carefully, leaving very little food stains on the plate. Finally, after 40 minutes, she stopped.

‘’Darling, could you go wash the dishes tonight?’’ Helena asked Juulutaq, ‘’make sure there all clean before your dad comes!’’

Groan, dish washing….He thought. Sighing, he walked to the sink, where a mound of plates lay. Each one looked clean enough, but his dad could spot the smallest of stains, so he started without hesitation. One plate, two plates, and three plates done…After only 15 minutes, he was done.

Juulutaq sat in front of the TV, watching Nuuk news with Saraaq Enok. As Nuuk was such a remote city, the only three channels were that, GBC 1, and GBC 2. However, that was not the only problem with the broadcasting. As soon as Mr Enok announced the results for the Greenland Snowboarding Finals, the television screen went black, and there was a slow hissing sound.

‘’Stupid TV!’’ Juulutaq said to himself in annoyance. TV and science kits (which he’d run out of) were the only things that interested him. Apart from the cursed room…..

In the blind spot of his mother’s eye, he sneaked out of the living room and into his father’s study, where the door to the room stood. It was unlocked, but sealed up with masking tape. Fortunately, this tape’s adhesive was old, and short-lasting, so Juulutaq had not difficulty in peeling the tape off. With one push, the door swung open, revealing the cursed room.

The room looked ancient. Cobwebs the size of windows hung in the corners, whist a medieval Nordic sword lay on the far side of the room. Bugs scurried across the floor, panicking about the light. There was a poster on the eastern side of the room, which said ‘Føre til sejr!’ (Danish for ‘Lead to Victory) and a picture of a wartime Danish pilot. What intrigued Juulutaq was that the fact that the poster was exactly the size of a typical Greenlandic door.  Because of that, he decided to investigate. Juulutaq felt the poster for a door behind and he felt exactly what he was feeling for. Exited, he tore town the poster, not realising that the poster was 70 years old. A Danish-looking door stood, encased in dust and cobwebs. Oddly, the keyhole was right in the middle of the door, but something else caught his attention. The keyhole was shaped like a Danish ‘ø’, and from the depth of the hole, he could tell it was a 5.2cm long key that was supposed to fit in it. Immediately, he knew there was only one key that could fit this.

*****

The day afterwards, Juulutaq rushed outside, and headed to the coldest place in town. This was of course Sermitsiaq, the mountain of Nuuk. He wore extra thick woollens and coats, as he knew the coldest temperature there was -39 degrees. The snow began to thicken as he began to trudge up the mountain. The key he was looking for was in a small, abandoned Inuit hut at the top. He knew he had climbed these mountains before, but the 1,210 metre height of the mountain made him feel scared of falling or tripping. Each step made him fell wearier, and the extreme cold formed small icicles on his backpack. Even the water inside the bag had frozen, despite a hot water bottle giving heat next to it.

The usual skiers on the mountain darted and skidded past him, spraying snow and the occasional permafrost around. Their names were Kaaqa, Nuukusk and Qataak. Kaaqa had just graduated from Nuuk university last summer, but he must of erased all of his learning, as even Juulutaq could outsmart him.

‘’WOOHOO!!’’ The skiers shouted as they flew over a frozen rock. Juulutaq was impressed, and now wanted a ski for Christmas. But instead of running back home and asking for it for the 25^th of December, he started to walk back up the mountain.

Clouds began to form in the sky around the mountain, which was a bad thing, as that almost always meant heavy snow, or worse, a blizzard. On the other hand, it was easier to escape the mountain now, as a new ski lift had been installed.

Juulutaq could see the Inuit hut now. 50 metres above him, a dazzling red and blue triangular hut stood out on the mountain, accompanied by a largely decorated tent. Nobody was permanently there, and had been for the past 2 years. It was mainly conservationists who kept it looking new. A month ago, Juulutaq had investigated the hut with some friends, and the thought it would be a good idea to stay there the whole night. Unfortunately, a snowstorm broke out, so they had to leave. When Juulutaq stepped out the door, he saw an ‘ø’ shaped key in the far corner of the hut. He did not go and get it, as his friends were already far ahead of him.

20 minutes later, Juulutaq got to the plateau where the hut was, and started walking towards it. He hoped that nobody had seen the key after he did, as that would diminish the chance of opening the door.

The entrance to the hut was not locked, which gave Juulutaq a sigh of relief. Pushing the door open, he noticed a smell of burnt steel. Then again, Nuuk metalworking club was held in here, so that was no surprise.

Tools from that club were scattered around the hut. A few insects whizzed around the place, looking for warmth. Boxes of expedition clothing lay on the floor, and a freezer that was bolted on to the wall let cold wisps of air out. Juulutaq did not see the point of this, as the air temperature was -31 degrees. He looked around for the key, in rising anxiety. There it was! Tucked underneath a Support the Intuits T-shirt, an ‘ø’ shaped key lay. It had been rusted by the air slightly, hinting an indication it was old, but overall, it was fine.

With accelerating excitement, he grabbed it, and ran out of the hut and the plateau. It only took him 10 minutes to get to the ski lift, and from then on, it was all downhill.

The 11-year-old boy could not believe it. Finding a key to open a door in a cursed room would be the highlight of the month. Fun things like ipads and electronic games were not really available, due to the lack of internet connection and broadband.

When Juulutaq arrived home, his mother was not there, probably on a shopping expedition to Tasiilaq, the shopping town a few miles away. This was good, because then there would be no-one to stop him doing this.

Filled with anxiety and excitement, he sprinted into the cursed room, where the door lay. Nothing had changed; nobody had been here, adding to the anticipation. He took the rusty key out of his pocket, and carefully slotted it into the door, and turned it clockwise. No movement. Must be the other way, Juulutaq thought. He turned it anticlockwise.

Suddenly, a cloud of dust seeped from the door, which was creaking and groaning heavily. Smoke and cold steam filled the room. Behind the door was a long, dark passageway, and in the middle there was a kind of thin Clingfilm wall, which looked breakable and passable. At least that was what Juulutaq thought.

Confusion entered his head. Why was there a Clingfilm wall? Why did there need to be a door if it was a dead end?

Juulutaq walked into the passageway. The smell of an exploded fish-eye-filled oven was even more horrific here, so much so that Juulutaq had to hold his nose. As he approaches the wall of Clingfilm, he could feel a strange, electric and quantum feeling. It was as if he was entering a wormhole!

He pressed his hand on the Clingfilm wall, looking away, because he assumed he would get a static electric shock. However, when he looked back, his hand was gone! He could still feel it, but his hand felt cold, still air, unique to the plateau at Sermitsiaq. He then put his other hand on the Clingfilm. The same thing happened! Intrigued, he decided to bravely but his head on the Clingfilm.

What happened next was utterly strange. A wave of energy overwhelmed his head, and the next thing he knew, he was a floating head with arms, looking forward on the Sermitsiaq plateau.

Juulutaq wanted to say ‘’what on Greenland is happening here!’’, yet he resigned from that option, as there were people around. These people were gathered around the hut at the plateau, with T-shirts saying ‘’Sermitsiaq is epic ‘’. A few seconds later, a man came out of the hut with a cup of hot coffee. It was as if they lived here!

With courage, the rest of his body jumped into the portal-like Clingfilm. Luckily, he had not taken off his coats and woollies, because that would have been dangerous. One of the men, a local conservationist called Naaqak Jutenstine, noticed Juulutaq, and started walking towards him.

‘’Well, well, well, if it isn’t Juulutaq Kaanak! Gone off without your mum to Sermitsiaq again? Tut tut…We’ll take you home. The good news is we won’t punish you, but your mum might. Where do you live?’’ Naaqak said in a jolly tone of voice.

‘’34 Kjordaaq road, Nuuk.’’ Juulutaq replied.

‘’N-n-n-Nuuk? But that was destroyed t-twenty years ago, and then replaced by a q-q-quarry for Iron ore! You wouldn’t live there?’’ Naaqak was perplexed.

‘’What? B-b-but I definitely live there!’’ Protested Juulutaq.

‘’Where is your brain today? Let me test you. What is this country called?’’Questioned Naaqak.

‘’Greenland.’’ Juulutaq answered.

‘’WHAT?!? IT’S GRÜNLAND! The king announced if anyone forgets the name of the country, they should be taken immediately to the amnesia and memory loss hospital!’’ Naaqak was extremely shocked.

Juulutaq was confused. Was that man crazy? Have I stepped into a parallel universe? Where am I??

 

 

Chapter 2: The brotherhood of Wulfstine

Before long, the parallel city came into sight, 3 miles away from the former city of Nuuk. Nestled between a large fjord and a mountain, this seemed the perfect place to forge a city. The air twitched around Juulutaq, more so as he got closer to the city, but soon resumed to a regular hum, similar to that of a microwave.

                More residents of this alternate Earth began to appear, patrolling the city. From a close observation, something about them seemed alien; not of this Earth. Whether it was the green flicker in their eyes, or the black-gold streak in their hair, he could not tell.

                One of the men from Naaqak’s group started speaking, neither Inuit nor Danish, not even Icelandic. He wondered the language they spoke here was a Creole or Dialect of some language, yet the sheer uniqueness of the language must mean another speak has developed in this world.

                Gradually, the snow started to thin, leaving bare permafrost and rock. The occasional plants sprouted in awkwardly positions, some taking root on ice with dirt on top. One flower had blossomed in green and black, which confused Juulutaq. They must be hiding something, he thought.

                Suddenly, what was thin air above the city exploded into a diamond-like dome, presumably protecting the city. Words danced and flashed across it, in the alien language.

‘Vulqqaan orr arcfyrf aetermaas!

 

Juulutaq now realised this was a far more complex area than his own. But why the buildings the same as his? There was only one way to find out.

‘‘Naaqak, something confuses me. If this city is so technologically advanced, then how come the buildings aren’t?’’

‘’You’ll see.’ Replied Naaqak.

Two guards stood at the gate of the dome, but they did not seem to be guarding. Eating a exotic something-or-other flavoured sandwich, chatting to one another, and generally not protecting was what they were actually doing.

‘’Good Mid-Late morning, Naaqak! Nice to see you around. Who’s this little chap, eh?’’ Said one of the guards.

‘’ Oh, he’s just a memory loss victim, Torqan.’’Answered Naaqak. 

 

Torqan nodded, and then opened the gate for them. It looked old, particularly because of the rust and decay on the top. Juulutaq could feel a similar quantum felling as of when he travelled into this universe. A strange wanting to go home was overwhelming him, but nevertheless he fought it. He spoke the word ‘Jelly’, and it came out warped, wiggly and distorted. This was not the only oddity about this substance. The houses and stations seemed to change, fading from an ordinary building to nothing, and then to things Juulutaq would only be able to dream of in his universe. These were not giant ice cream towers or gingerbread warehouses from dreams; but were enormous, dominating skyscrapers equipped with lasers, spaceship docks, science labs, and more. It was almost like the whole city had been plucked out of a science fiction book!

A few of the tallest buildings were scraping the ceiling of the dome; a signal to him that this city was growing. The further he went in the city; he could feel the sense of want for these types of supreme technology; to take it back in the real Nuuk.

Half an hour went by. Still no sign of the memory loss factory, yet the men certainly knew where they were heading. The air buzzed with the crowding of people in the streets, who seemed to have completely changes from the ones outside. They had humanoid features (eyes, noses, hands, feet …etc) but the skin had gone a white so pale, it was comparable to a sheet of plain paper. Other features were different, such as the size of their hands, similar to that of a polar bear. Apart from that, all were the same.

A string of markets popped up, with the participants selling a whole array of objects, from plasma guns (presumably) to dancing holographic lizards. Each stall grew in size, but there were less as the size grew. Finally, the market ended, and forward ahead was a clean, marble road, and something else he could not recognise.

Suddenly, Naaqak spoke up.

‘’Ah, Juulutaq, here is my very own contraption vehicle, the Wulfen-Gul 8x-Kk11. You may not be able to distinguish it from any of your own vehicles, so allow me to introduce the one of a kind, unique machine to you!’’

An aurora of pride and boasting was detectable around him, and he smiled for it. He talked about it, how it worked, what it was, and what it can do. The end result was an essay so boring and long it would not be able to be placed in this novel. The only thing that is able to be in the book is one thing: ‘’if you are riding it, just hold on tight.’’

If I had to explain it to you, here it is. The vehicle was a large, spider shaped machine, with a two large domes on the head and the abdomen. The abdomen was mainly for storage, bags piled up high in it. The head dome could fit at the most 4 people, and contained a series of buttons that drove the machine, including teleport and flying buttons. A measure of entertainment was present, such as holographic games which you could touch to play. There were even games in which you could put your hand through, and delve into a virtual world of shooting, creating and building.

‘’Come on, hop, skip and leap into it, guys!’’ Naaqak said merrily. When all of the men and Juulutaq went in, Naaqak sat in the fromt, and turned on the machine.

‘’What are all those buttons for?’’ Juulutaq asked.

 

‘’You’ll see.’’
What happened next was astonishing. The arachnid exoskeleton of the car began to move, without disturbing the inner parts. It crawled and scuttled onto the walls of various buildings, leap to each ascending one. Naaqak pressed a vermillion button and a sort of wiry silk sprung up from the back. The silk hooked around nooks and crannies, until a web was made.
The body tensed up with electrical adrenaline, as tightened. Juulutaq could feel the machine’s doors bending, yet no shattering. The malleability of the craft was amazing; the once spherical shape of the inner dome has been stretched into an ellipse, with no effect. Suddenly the whole crew could feel the whirring of cogs and gears in the back, as it tilted back a stretched bow, ready to fire.
PPPPHHHHOOYYOYYOSH! The machine sounded as it fired up to the very top of the dome, until gravity made it descend rapidly. But Naaqak did not worry; for a second afterwards he pressed a button and wings whiter than a recently cleaned dove’s sprung out, slowing the vehicle down, grinding to a halt on the top of a skyscraper.
The exoskeleton groaned mechanically, so Naaqak added some more of what looked like oil. The machine did not tense again, as it seemed that it had known all along that it was going to stop here.
‘’Ah ha! Here we are! See that door sticking out over there Juulutaq? Well, that’s the door to the memory loss hospital! The doctors there will treat you just fine.’’ Naaqak blurted excitedly.
‘’But…but I…..’’Juulutaq’s voice trailed off. He knew these men were nice and friendly, but he had a growing feeling to go back into his own world.
The silver door opened to a bronze-like spiral staircase, then a bright, naturally lighted corridor that held many a door to the left but not so to the right. Down that door was a void like darkness in a vacuum chamber. Who knows what lied down there; maybe some botched experiment, or some controversial weapon of mass destruction; even to this day no man knows. Past that door, a small passageway that seemed to have a dog-flap as an entrance dwelt. Inscribed of the flap were the words ‘Athrun! Dahr nykl fuhrvird aksarkt wyyht uthurnkoltisundar jtyinerkaelbor!’ From the pictures of a skull and a flame next to it, Juulutaq guessed that this was some sort of a warning sign.
After about a brief period of awkward silence with everyone staring at the flap, Naaqak piped up.
‘’Well, go on then, go through! We haven’t got all day!’’
‘’But-b…are you kidding? I’m not a dog!’’ replied Juulutaq with a feeling of shock and confusion.
‘’Well, you know how to shrink? You’re a Grunlandian! Go one then, hop to it!’’ Said Naaqak.
‘’But…I…how do you shrink?’’ Juulutaq was puzzled by this statement.
‘’Just press the button on your back!! Wulfen almighty, you must some serious, serious memory loss going on!’’ Naaqak answered flustering in disbelief.
‘’I can’t find it!’’ said Juulutaq.
‘’It is there; all Grunlanders have it! Just keep searching!’’ said Naaqak with a slight feeling of frustration.
‘’There’s no button!!!’’ Juulutaq answered with the strong sense that Naaqak and the company were lunatics trying to murder him.
‘’WHAT! Oh, now I think I know what was happened to you! You must have lost your shrinking button in a freak accident, which might count for your memory loss! No worry, we’ll just have to drill a hole in your back and replace with a button. You’ll just have to get used to the feeling of blood dripping slowly from your spine; it’s a natural thing.’’ Naaqak proclaimed.
Juulutaq could not take faking his identity any more. If Naaqak’s last saying was true, it would indefinitely kill him. Blood rushed towards his cheeks, and fury rose among him, then he snapped.
‘’I AM NOT A GRUNLANDIAN!!!!! I AM A HUMAN BEING!!!!!’’ he screamed at the top of his voice.