Y Ladi Wen - The White Lady

This is a Hallowe'en story inspired by Welsh traditions and folklore.

There are some lines of Welsh spoken, but it will be either translated or contextualised.

It won't matter if you don't know any Welsh, but I wouldn't recommend trying to pronounce it.

Please enjoy.

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Evan awoke to the sound of fireworks. They had been going off for weeks in the lead up to Bonfire Night.Remember, remember, the fifth of November. Not much chance of forgetting. That was still a few days away, but tonight was as good a reason as any to set them off: Hallowe'en.

That was if he hadn't slept through it already. What time was it?

Explosions of green and red lit up the room, and Evan remembered with a groan that he was still at the office. He had fallen asleep at his desk. Again.

He nudged the mouse and his monitors lit up. His movements activated the motion sensors, and the strip lights in his section of the office flickered into life too. He was alone. The clock in the bottom corner of his monitor told him it was 19:27. He had made coffee little more than half an hour ago so he couldn't have been asleep all that long. The coffee sat untouched and cold amid a teetering stack of paperwork to his side.

He wondered again if it was worth working so many late nights if he was just going to fall asleep and not get any work done. It didn't help that when he did drag himself home to bed, a decent night's sleep eluded him. More often, he would lie awake for hours, unable to settle.

When he did sleep, he had the nightmare. Nothing as common as turning up late for work or being naked in front of a crowd. He longed for something so simple. No, in his nightmare he was stalked by a creature, a monster, and not some unseen figment in his peripheral vision that his unconscious mind merely convinced itself was there. He saw it. It was a pig. A bizarre, enormous, hairy black sow. It had huge, curved tusks, one of which was broken. It was covered in scars, and it was missing its tail. It had fire in its eyes, and smoke leaked from the corners of its mouth. It looked the same every time, it made itself known to him, and then it hunted him relentlessly until he woke up.

The dream probably lasted a matter of seconds in the final moments of sleep, but Evan felt like it consumed the whole night and, fed by fatigue, he carried the fear with him in the day too. A chill ran down his spine and he glanced around the office as another volley of fireworks illuminated his surroundings. He was still alone, but the shadows at the far end of the open plan office space were ominous and deep. Time to go home. He gulped the cold cup of coffee and set about wrapping up what little extra work he had achieved.

After shuffling the papers on his desk into piles that would cause him the least anxiety the following morning, Evan closed half a dozen spreadsheets, then took a deep breath before clicking back to his e-mails. There was an automated corporate communication that he deleted with barely a glance and some satisfaction, and nothing else worth wasting any time over. The only other open mail was one that had lived in his Drafts folder for years, that he stared at wistfully from time to time. It was his resignation, and it hinted at a life where he didn't work late and fall asleep at his desk. He still remembered a time when he had liked his job though, only his workload had seemed to continue growing as long as he had worked there. He gave his resignation serious consideration on particularly difficult days -- more frequently, it seemed, of late -- but he usually convinced himself that the status quo was preferrable. That was, on those occasions where he did not simply become so distracted by the work that he forgot

the e-mail altogether. He sighed and closed it.

As he tried to log off, his computer started installing updates. Typical. Still, better to sort now, than deal with it in the morning. Deciding to wash out his coffee cup while the computer did its thing, Evan made his way across the office space, the motion-controlled lights chasing away the shadows as he went.

The office opened into a reception area where lifts and stairs led to a lobby and five floors of similar offices below, and one above. The top floor of the building was built as a wide, open conference space that could be used as needed by the businesses in the building but stood empty most of the time. Evan's colleagues often took their breaks up there and mingled with the building's other employees. Evan did not take many breaks. He could hear music and voices drifting faintly out of the stairwell. One of the other businesses must be hosting a Hallowe'en party. Evan supposed that was a better reason to still be in the building at this time.

He entered the small kitchenette off to one side, washed and dried his cup, and stowed it in a cupboard. Then he splashed water on his face, which did no worse at waking him up than the coffee had.

He strode back out towards his desk and was halfway across the space before he realised that the lights had clicked off and were not coming back on. He looked around. It wasn't fully dark thanks to a few lights shining in through the windows from neighbouring buildings, but it seemed the air outside was thick with smoke from fireworks, and no more bright explosions were forthcoming. Inside, the shadows closed in, deeper and more unnerving than before. At first, he thought the power had cut out, but across the room his computer monitors glowed dimly like a lighthouse in fog. Evan had slowed, but not stopped walking. Lights or no lights, he needed to get back to his desk before he could leave. His keys, phone and wallet were in the pockets of his jacket which hung over the back of his chair.

He made his way more carefully between the desks. His eyes should have been adjusting to the low light, but it seemed to be getting even darker. Surely, it was his imagination. Working too late and getting too little sleep had him all but jumping at shadows. As he neared his workstation, his monitors clicked off, and the last glimmer of light disappeared.

Evan stopped instinctively. The darkness was accompanied by a deep silence. He considered calling out, but he suddenly thought about being in the nightmare, opening his mouth but unable to make a sound. He was awake now. If he was dreaming, he wouldn't be thinking about dreaming, but he kept his mouth shut.

Evan stood staring into the dark. The silence was so complete that the sound of his own breathing was deafening. It seemed to be coming from all around him. As he started to edge closer to his desk, the sound got louder. He felt uneasy but was not exerting himself. When he gulped down one deep breath, he finally realised that the loud breathing surrounding him was not his own. Something else was here. Someone, surely, rather than something. Perhaps someone from the upstairs party playing a drunk Hallowe'en prank.

Evan took another deep breath and was about to call out when two small lights appeared in the darkness behind his desk. They flickered like candle flames, but they looked to Evan like something that he was all too familiar with. Something they couldn't be. Something that literally kept him awake at night. The flaming eyes of a nightmare.

There was an explosion of fireworks outside, and everything lit up. Evan flinched. The pig did not. The room was bathed in a multitude of colours, but the light that touched the hairy, black hide of the hideous creature seemed to be swallowed up, making it look more like a shadow. But it was there. Evan's mind raced, and his heart pounded. Now, his breathing was loud, but didn't begin to cover up the horrific snarling emanating from the monster before him.

Evan stumbled backwards, then turned and stumbled forwards. Behind him, the creature let out a sickening squeal. When Evan found his footing, he ran.

He hurtled across the office as fast as he could with the darkness closing in once more around him. Afraid to even slow down, much less stop, Evan ignored the lifts and followed the sliver of light peeking out from the side as he crashed into the dimly lit stairwell. He should have headed down. He should have leaped from landing to landing to the bottom and got out of the building, but he wasn't thinking clearly, if at all. The stairs right in front of him presented a different choice. He went up.

He took the steps two at a time. He didn't dare to look behind, but as he turned across the first landing, he caught sight of the black mass filling the space below. Even with his pulse pounding in his ears, he could still hear it clambering up behind him, and that putrid smoke spewed from its mouth and nostrils with every grunt and snort.

Almost falling over the last step, Evan burst through the door onto the top floor. The reception area here was separated from the conference space that could be entered by a double door. Evan was alone in the space and the doors were closed, with the sounds of the party muted on the other side. Evan stopped, not knowing how to proceed because, of all things, he hadn't been invited to the party. If he ran into the room and wasn't followed by a huge demon pig, he would look like a lunatic. If it did follow him, he might get a whole room of people mauled, or eaten, or whatever the hell the thing wanted to do to him.

Without thinking, Evan ran to the far end of the reception area where a door led outside onto a balcony that ran the length of this floor and looked out over the city. The partygoers would be able to see him, illuminated by the lights inside, through the large windows, but luckily nobody else was out enjoying the night air. Evan heard the door slam shut behind him, but he didn't know if he had come through it alone, or if the people inside were about to watch him die. There was nowhere else to run.

He didn't want to look behind, so Evan pressed himself against the railing and stared into the night.

He waited.

Nothing.

No tusks. No smoke. No demonic squealing. All he heard was distant fireworks on the wind, and traffic in the street below.

The creature was probably sat the other side of the door waiting for him. He was barely ready to run again. He certainly wasn't prepared to fight it. If it wasn't going to follow him onto the balcony, though, he would accept the temporary reprieve.

Evan looked over the railing. Nine stories below, the street swam in his vision. He didn't mind heights but, between the tiredness, the fear, and the adrenaline flooding his body, he wasn't immune to vertigo. There was no danger of falling over, of course, but he felt sick and dizzy.

"Don't jump," came a woman's voice from his side. She must have come out from the party through the other door.

More afraid for her than himself, Evan glanced away from her towards the door he came through. If his pursuer came now, he would have put more than himself at risk.

"It's alright," said the woman, "she's gone."

Evan's voice croaked. "You saw it?"

"Not quite, but I always know when she's hunting. She really has it in for you, Evan."

There was a familiar, almost fond tone to her voice, but it was the use of his name that finally drew Evan's attention to the mysterious woman. Who was she? What was happening? Should he still be afraid? Should he still be running? He had a million questions, but did he really want any of the answers?

Anything other than a giant demon pig would have been a welcome sight to Evan as he turned, but if there existed a woman who was the complete opposite, this was her. She was dressed all in white. A white dress that hugged her curves and cinched at the waist with a pleated skirt that fluttered in the breeze. She wore white stockings and white high heels. She even wore a white neckerchief and white gloves up to her elbows. There was something at once both modern and vintage about the look. Evan didn't recognise her from the building. Not that he spent much time around anyone else, but if he had seen her once, he would remember her.

"Eyes up here, Evan," she said, and he looked to find her appraising him with seeming amusement. Her eyes sparkled and her golden hair shimmered in the light from inside as she leaned against the door jamb.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Gwen," she returned with a smile.

Evan stared, waiting for that to mean something. "I-I think I'm going to need more than a name."

"Why don't you come inside, and I'll explain."

"Isn't that thing still in there?"

Gwen tilted her head towards the side of the balcony and Evan followed her gaze. He looked down towards the ground again. The street was empty, except for directly below, where the creature paced back and forth glaring up at him. He could barely see the fire in its eyes, but when it squealed, it felt like it bore directly into his brain.

"Is it expecting me to jump?"

"No, she's guarding the front door."

"We can't leave," Evan realised, a hollow pit forming in his stomach. There was no other way out of the building.

"I wouldn't recommend it," Gwen replied with a calmness that was having the opposite effect on Evan. "So, come on inside for a while. Get a drink. Wait it out."

Evan glanced through the windows into the party, considering it properly for the first time. "What about everybody else? We have to tell all these people they're in danger of being eaten, or whatever the fuck, if they try to leave. Are we all supposed to just get a drink and wait it out?"

Gwen stepped towards him and reached up to place her hands on either side of his face. Her fingers were cold despite the gloves, and Evan's breath caught, stopping his rant. He covered one of her hands with his. Each real sensation he felt was a new reminder that he wasn't still asleep, dreaming at his desk. He already knew for sure that he wasn't, but not all that long ago he had also known for sure that nightmares didn't just come to life.

"What the fuck is happening?" he asked quietly.

Her eyes searched his face. "Nobody else is in danger, Evan. You can come inside, and they'll all be safe. I'm afraid yr Hwch Ddu Gwta is only interested in you."

"Er, what?"

"Yr Hwch Ddu Gwta. The tailless black sow."

"Right," said Evan with almost a laugh. "That's certainly a fair description. I'm sorry, I haven't done any Welsh since school, so unless you tell me it's raining, or that you like playing rugby, I'm lost."

"Mae'n bwrw glaw," she said.

"That's the one," Evan agreed, before realising it was indeed starting to rain. Gwen didn't say anything else. She just took him by the hand, then waited until he finally let her lead him inside.

A few heads turned as they entered but their presence was not challenged. Evan recognised a few people as employees of the Pomona Foundation, which was some kind of charity consultancy on the third floor. The dress code appeared to be smart casual, so Evan, despite presumably looking a little worse for wear after running for his life earlier, at least wasn't underdressed. He was in his shirt and suit trousers, but his jacket was still downstairs with his tie tucked into the inside pocket.

The room was too big really for the number of people in attendance. Most were spread around in small groups, and others were off to the side dancing to the music that came from speakers dotted about. A buffet was set up on tables against one wall, and there was a corner that appeared to be dedicated to Hallowe'en party games, with several people laughing at two men leaning over a barrel bobbing for apples.

In the middle of the room was what looked like a bonfire. The fire itself was made from long pieces of paper in red, orange and yellow, that billowed atop a large fan built into a pit filled with stones. It was hardly the most improbable thing Evan had seen tonight, but he was impressed by it all the same.

"Pomona's boss knows how to put a party together," said Evan.

"Enid Halston," said Gwen. "She's around somewhere."

"Is she a friend of yours?"

"You could say that."

"Is that why you're here?"

"No, Evan. I'm here for you. Would you like to dance?"

"I think I'd rather talk. What do you mean you're here for me?"

Gwen flashed a disarming smile and pulled him towards the makeshift dancefloor. "Let's talk while we dance. I won't hurt you, unless I accidentally step on your toes." When Evan still hesitated, she added, "if you're most afraid to dance with me, you're welcome to take your chances with our friend downstairs. Maybe she's more your type? She does have an impressive rear end, and ten nipples. And she does want to eat you, which could be enjoyable, while it lasts."

"What about you, Gwen? Do you want to eat me?"

She raised her eyebrows at him. "Let's dance first and see how we go from there."

Evan gave in and placed his hands on her waist as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and they swayed to a slow song.

"Do you know what tonight is?" Gwen asked after a minute.

"Hallowe'en?"

"Yes, among other things. Around these parts, it's also known as Noson Galan Gaeaf. The night before the start of winter. Traditionally, people would gather to celebrate around a bonfire." She nodded towards the imitation fire across the room. "When the fire burned down, they would run home, believing the last to return would have their souls eaten by a spirit in the form of a tailless black sow."

"Not so much a myth then," Evan interjected, "but I'm not sure how that applies to me."

"There are many spirits in our world, and most are experienced by humans on a daily basis as omens, or feelings, or superstitions. Tonight, on Noson Galan Gaeaf, or Hallowe'en, or Samhain, spirits are allowed to take form and move through the mortal world, but they may only manifest as an extension of their abstract concept."

"So, that's the abstract concept of a soul-eating pig?"

"She is the feeling of dread you get when you know you're not where you're supposed to be."

"Like at this party I wasn't invited to?"

"No, Evan. Like asleep at your desk late in the evening at a job you have hated for years."

The music changed to something a bit livelier, but they continued to dance slowly around in a circle. Evan subconsciously tightened his grip on Gwen's waist, and she held him closer in response.

"How long have you wanted to leave your job?" she continued quietly. "And how long have you been having nightmares about her? She has been feeding off you for ages."

"How do you know so much about it?"

"There is another version of the old legend. Instead of a black sow, there is a woman in white who appears to scare people and chase them home. Those are my more successful endeavours, where they only saw me, and were spared from her altogether."

"You're a spirit too?" he asked, and she nodded into his shoulder.

"Remember when you were out on the balcony, and you looked down? You couldn't have fallen but were afraid all the same. That was me breathing down your neck. I am but one of many spirits who warn people of danger. I am the fear you feel that stops you from putting yourself in harm's way."

Evan held her a little tighter still. "I actually feel safe with you. I guess it's all a matter of perspective. Thanks for saving my life a billion times, I suppose."

"You're welcome." She tilted her head up and planted a kiss on his cheek. There was an immediate chill that made him shiver when her lips first made contact, but then her kiss was soft and warm against his skin.

Evan felt a lightness growing in him. He was even starting to enjoy the dancing. He still had a million questions but was mostly content with the answers he had already been given. The pig-spirit had been feeding off him and filling his head with shadows for months, maybe years. Being close to Gwen was like holding up a torch to the darkness.