Hello, my helpful friends of the reddit, this is Eugene again. I have come here to share how the situation with the evil lawn-spawn has developed, and boy have there been some developments. If you're not caught up or could use a refresher, my first two posts can be found here and here.
Anyway, I first want to thank all of you kind readers for your informative and helpful advice. After reaching out to various individuals who might have knowledge or experiences even tangentially related to whatever is going on with the garden gnome invaders and their minions, I was able to get three individuals more cut out for this than me to agree to help me out, or do their best to, at least.
The first was a Wiccan priestess named Arabel, who claimed to have particular experience in dealing with the fey. A somewhat classic hippie type if I’ve ever seen one, she was one of the warmest and friendliest personalities I might have ever come across, right up until the subject of fey comes up, wherein she adopts a very serious and solemn demeanor with an almost disconcerting speed. If these garden gnomes really are gnomes, then this was exactly the kind of person I needed.
I was also able to procure the assistance of a local academic specializing in north European mythology and folklore, through a mutual friend who teaches anthropology at a nearby university. Professor Reynolds seemed to be a gruff, non-nonsense sort of person from our initial conversations, but also a very deeply informed one, which is what mattered.
Now, while the gnome hypothesis seemed perhaps the most likely explanation, I was not willing to rule anything out at this point. When seeking out spiritual leaders/professionals of various faiths and creeds, I did relate my story to the priest at my local catholic church this past Sunday. While I didn’t expect much, he was surprisingly open-minded and receptive, and put me in contact with someone from his order with, uh, some supernatural experience, so to speak; think blessing houses claimed as haunted, even assisting in an exorcism or two. While the idea of demonic nature or some other, similar dark, spiritual origins had me actually rooting for them to be “just” real gnomes, again, I was not ready to rule anything out at this point.
Arabel and the priest, Father Jacob, had no issues coming by concurrently, which was a relief to me, as I wasn’t sure how many chances I’d get to try whatever methods in order to take back my home if they didn’t. Professor Reynolds would agree only to a live video call once there, and would not accompany us in person. She bluntly explained that while she was still somewhat skeptical, she did not want to be there in-person if the gnomes turned out to be real, and was sure she could be just as, or at least almost as helpful virtually as she could be in-person, especially since I already have two other people coming along. I believe her particular words were along the lines of “No need for a fourth person to be put in any significant danger.” When I asked in an alarmed tone if gnomes would really be so dangerous that she was too scared to seize the opportunity to observe one of the major points of her life’s research, she simply replied “potentially” and did not elaborate further. I decided not to push the subject.
When the time came, Arabel and Fr. Jacob met me at the beginning of the cul-de-sac where my house is located. Worryingly, they both told me they had noticed a couple of other houses with a couple of almost identical garden gnomes in their yard. After appropriate introductions, I double-checked a short list of things I might need based on suggestions of Arabel, professor Reynolds and several helpful redditors:
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A copy of the deed to the property, to demonstrate my true and rightful ownership.
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Small gifts such as garden implements, some wine, a basket of mushrooms, and a few bags of raw gemstones and crystals (the exact types chosen by Arabel, not me), brought to give as tokens of (relatively) good-will.
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In my inner jacket pocket, I carried a small mallet in case good-will failed.
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Items and substances that could be protective against the gnomes or whatever supernatural entities these creatures turned out to be; for example salt, horseshoes, etc. Arabel gave me silver jewelry and a shawl of some sort covered with glyphs and “defensive wards”; Fr. Jacob gave me some holy water and a small bible.
As we then approached my home, I noticed more changes to the yard than there had been last time I was away. Much of the grass was even greener than before, but the lawn was striated with patches of unhealthy, even unnatural colors ranging from grayish blue to a sickly yellow-white to what I can only describe as a vibrant dark-brown. The shrubbery near my porch had devolved into similar color schemes, and were almost unrecognizable. New, macabre lawn ornamentation had appeared as well, including hideous stone gargoyles on each side of the door and porch, and lawn flamingos, like those that had generated in my car previously but now with patches of plastic flesh missing to show the skeletons inside, dotted the grass.
Even much of the already-existing fixtures had progressed into even more twisted versions. The screeching wind chimes that had grown to the size of small organ pipes and appeared ready to cause the branch they were hanging from to snap at any moment. The picket fence that had spawned barbed wire had also grown. It now wrapped around the entire front yard, and even the boards themselves appeared to have grown sharp, thorn-like spikes. The hagfish pond in the backyard, meanwhile, had also expanded further, now reaching into the side yard. One could even see the edge of some asymmetrical, dark-gray stone fountain, with the cloudy yellowish acid-water flowing down the levels. An ominous mist floated above the fluid.
Overall, my property now looked like some garish Halloween haunted house attraction, and I hoped no neighbors had been given much trouble by the gnomes if anyone had come to my door to complain about scared children, impact on nearby property values, etc. At that thought I glanced at the mailbox, thinking to check for angry letters or something, but quickly abandoned that impulse upon seeing a note taped to the door with “WARNING, HUGE ANGRY WASPS NEST INSIDE” scribbled on, most likely from our poor mailman, Fred. I sighed and turned back towards the house.
After some fumbling with my phone, Arabel patiently demonstrated for me how to use the Face Time, and so I then called professor Reynolds to show her the scene. Any remaining skepticism appeared to melt away into concern in her expression as I panned around the yard; a similar change had alreaady occurred moments before on Fr. Jacob’s face. Arabel, however, had shown no sign of surprise or worry, but looked over the scene with a stoic expression I couldn’t quite figure out how to interpret. She spoke first as we started towards the front door.
“This looks… dark. If these really are earth spirits, they’re corrupted somehow. I get the sense that these progressively more eerie installations, and indeed likely even their appearance as stereotypical terracotta ‘Garden Gnomes’ in the first place, could be intentional mockeries or perversions of many standard elements of modern human homes and their surrounding yards.”
Professor Reynolds continued the line of thought out loud from the smart phone device in my hand: “I think Arabel is definitely on to something, many of the ways we portray nature spirits and elementals varies from culture to culture, though analogues are common across many. Perhaps this warped version of a classic suburban middle-class home is an inversion of that, so to speak, them representing themselves to us by warped versions of our own cultural tropes. I’m curious to see the inside…”
Fr. Jacob just stood quietly, solemnly staring at the door. All he added was, “whatever they are, they do not appear to be benevolent beings.” He then made the sign of the cross, muttered a quick prayer, and opened the door.
Inside, an amount of gnomes I could only describe as “too damn many” (please forgive me the harsh language) were scattered around my living room, standing on furniture and belongings which had been moved to new, sometimes nonsensical locations and/or orientations. The ceiling fan now was placed on the wall, somehow still hooked up to the internal wiring (or running on gnome magic, who even knows anymore) as it slowly cycled sideways through the air like some kind of bizarro windmill. Chairs and tables had their legs shorn half off, presumably to be lower to the ground. My couch had been turned upside down and against the wall, creating a small cave-like area that I certainly did not want to go check on further. Most notable were the large mushrooms of varying shapes and colors that had sprouted from the walls and carpets, as if from the forest floor itself. I sighed again.
Without stopping to investigate (and infuriate myself) further, I turned and walked down the hall towards my bedroom. After a second I heard Arabel and Dr. Jacob behind me. “If one of you could walk backwards so as to keep the area behind you in sight,” professor Reynolds reminded us from the comfort of her own non-gnome-infested-home. While none of the three people helping me with my situation had had a ready explanation for the apparent immobility of the gnomes while being observed, as long as it appeared to hold, we were certainly going to take advantage of it.
I reached the door to the master bedroom and heard indecipherable noises on the other side. I hesitated, but then opened the door and the noise immediately ceased as I entered the room.
While the changes to the bedroom were milder in comparison to the living room, that was probably because it had already been significantly altered into a makeshift throne room the last time I was there. Our eyes were immediately pulled to the center of my bed, with the love-seat throne stationed on top containing an especially regal but menacing looking gnome, wearing a crown of sorts made of two antlers affixed to a rough circle (where they got the antlers, I have no idea). I might have imagined it, but the king gnome (or queen, if you prefer Lucy’s Gnomenclature (Heh!)) looked even bigger than before, now almost as large as a human adult.
The room was filled with various worker and attendant gnomes in various positions, some holding random objects from my house for unknown purposes. I tried to make my old, meek, shaking voice into a bold pronouncement of sorts, with admittedly minimal success. “This is my house, my property, my home! Quarter or visitation of any sort was neither requested nor freely given. I demand the withdrawal of all beings currently taking residence in this abode, as is my right; however I want no undue hostility. Whatever circumstances have led up to this are in the past, and I humbly ask your forgiveness for any offense unintentionally given to you, just as I’m willing to forgive the offenses done unto me, whether unintentional or otherwise. Also, we bring gifts as a gesture of our diplomatic desires.”
I laid down my basket with trembling hands as I said the last part. We’d carefully gone over the verbiage beforehand, and though I was nervous about the initial proclamation, Arabal said I needed to be the one to make the statement to the intruders. Luckily, I was fairly confident I’d gotten a decent portion of it correct.
I looked over and saw the clearly uneasy look on Arabel's face, and hoped it was already there before.
After a long, uncertain couple of moments my proclamation was answered by an eerie, gravelly voice in my head, "your gifts, meager as they may be, are accepted. Your demands, however, are not."
I glanced at my companions to see whether I was the only one to "hear" the mental voice. I wasn't, judging by their shocked expressions.
The voice continued after a few seconds. "The earth here which you claim as your own has is rightfully ours, has been for centuries. Your kind negotiated with us long ago, only to curse us when we demanded our rightful payment for their continued right to co-exist with here!"
I stood there, shocked and unsure of what to say. It was actually professor reynolds who spoke up next, quite an unsettling development since it implied that the voice must have reached into her mind as well, despite her not even being physically here with us.
"I believe I can safely say none of us are aware of this curse or prior negotiation, who of 'our kind' as you put it made such a pact and when?"
"Humans, always forgetting their sacred oaths. Almost five centuries ago, a tribe of humans began to settle on this land, which has been occupied by my clan for millennia. Other groups had come before, but quickly respected our wishes and left upon us… making our presence known, shall we say. This group was different… Besides being different in look and custom in ways obvious even to us, they refused to leave in the face of our warnings. After some battle with the encroachers with casualties on both sides, we agreed to a ceasefire based on the following pact: we would allow them to remain and occupy the surface, in return for annual offerings. We deal fairly, and the price was not at all unmanageable. 25 barrels of ale and 25 jars of honey; 50 buckets of certain metal ores such as copper that are not present in this area but which they clearly had access to from elsewhere; and just one of their offspring."
"Offspring? As in human children?! What would you want them for?" I blurted out, afraid of whatever horrific answer I was probably about to hear.
"Blood sacrifices are a potent source of power, one which my clan is not above utilizing, especially from the young and especially lesser beings like yourselves. Again, we only required one a year, yet even that was apparently too much for the greedy humans with whom we had generously shared our land. They soon stopped providing this portion of their payment, even deigning to attempt to make up for it with extra metal!"
This last sentence was said with increased anger and intensity, and was unbearably 'loud' by the last few words. After a short pause, the mental voice continued, at its original tone and intensity. "As was our right, we responded to this brazen breach of the pact by taking two young humans the following night, one to meet the original requirement and another for the attempt to circumvent it."
Another voice in my mind, higher pitched but equally guttural, presumably from another gnome, continued from here. "The humans were angry at the disappearance of their young and demanded to meet to discuss matters. After agreeing to this, we met with a couple of representatives of their village. The humans pathetically pleaded for their children back, and for us to accept any other offering to replace the blood tithe, even though they clearly understood the power of blood magic and the lack of any suitable replacement! We declined, of course."
The original voice broke back in. "However, in a disastrous moment of inexplicable weakness, my predecessor in leading this clan took pity on the humans, and agreed to forgive the attempted avoidance of the most important aspect of their payment by returning one of the children taken. When the time came the following year, the same child we had returned was brought forth as the offering, accompanied as usual by adults carrying the other portions of the agreed-upon payment. Notably however, one of the humans, an old woman that we could not recall seeing among the settlement before, was among the party this time. She carried nothing besides the sleeping child."
A third voice now broke in, "as those of us sent to retrieve the offerings watched, the old woman began to recite something in some language we did not recognize. Before we could enter her mind to make sense of what she was saying, she suddenly pulled out an obsidian knife and stabbed the child in her other arm.
"Now speaking in the usual tongue of the local humans, she shouted to all who could hear that as both sides had broken the pact the year before, it was their right to nullify the agreement and resume hostilities. The witch, as we could now clearly recognize her to be, then stated that the blood sacrifice of the returned child was to initiate a curse on our clan; as we had taken this child right under the watch of the helpless men and women of the village, we would henceforth be unable to directly act in the presence of or directly against your kind, or even so much as move whilst being seen by human eyes. We were forced to retreat further into the earth to avoid even unintentional proximity to your people.”
We each took a few moments to digest this information. Fr. Jacob eventually spoke up to ask, "What changed then? Why have you targeted this poor man, ignorant of any of what you claimed happened and innocent of any transgression against your clan?"
"No human is innocent!" The original gnome's voice boomed in our heads, "your people's failure to adequately pass on the relevant history is not any concern of ours, and regardless, his home sits directly in the center of our clan’s rightful claim. After centuries, the hold of the curse on us is finally starting to fade, and we will not be forced from our home again. This house you call your home yours sits on land that was never truly your right to claim, as do all the houses nearby. We may not have been able to successfully infiltrate the others yet, but it’s only a matter of time, As the curse weakens and our own power grows. We’ve already set up agents at several other homes, and we have ways of accelerating the growth of our power further. We strongly suggest you leave and never come back, and convince as many of your neighbors as you can to follow suit; no mercy will be shown to stragglers.”
The possible implications of the ‘ways of accelerating’ comment had gone over my head, but not Arabel’s. “Wait, didn’t you say one of the gnomes tried to attack the child next door?” she asked me.
“Yes…” I said, as the horror of the realization settled over me. “Wait, you all were going to sacrifice Lucy!” I shouted at the gathered gnomes.
No voice appeared in my head to confirm or deny my accusation, as the gnomes continued to wordlessly stare at the three of us.
Fr. Jacob pulled out a vial of holy water and swiftly flung it on the nearest gnome. Nothing happened. “Damnit” said Fr. Jacob.
This was clearly going nowhere. I then decided to look around again at them as I wondered what to try next, only to see that garden gnomes now stood all around the three of us, apparently having moved in while we all were paying our attention to their monarch. But the inability to move or react while observed gave me another idea. I quickly turned to Arabel and told her to watch the area behind us as I turned back to face the gnomes’ leader.
“Well, no matter who it rightfully or originally belongs to, I want my house back, and will do anything necessary to get it back” I said, trying to sound more intimidating than I’m sure I came off as. “We both know you can’t move while being seen, which means we both know there’s nothing to stop me from walking over and simply shattering you one by one, as my friends here watch my back.”
I glanced beside me as Fr. Jacob gave a quick, clear nod of agreement. But to my consternation, Arabel protested my threat. “You can't just slaughter all of them, vicious as they are, they are sentient beings, that would be mass murder!”
“They want to sacrifice Lucy, and even murder every person in the entire neighborhood if need be!” I responded angrily. ”Better them than us!”
“No, that kind of violent, over-the-top thinking is exactly what caused all of this in the first place. I can’t let you slaughter them.”
I turned to Fr. Jacob and told him to turn and watch our backs like Arabel had been, and then turned back and pleaded to Arabel one last time not to stop me. But A gnome’s voice popped in our heads, interrupting my pleas; “It’s no use, she will not allow you to kill us, and will even stop you if you try. We can see the truth of this in her mind.”
I turned to her, and saw her jaw set firm as she let her silence indicate agreement.
Now, reddit friends, I hope you won’t judge me too harshly for this next part, but I truly felt it necessary at the time. Because once I saw Arabel wouldn’t budge from what she felt she must do, I knew I couldn’t either. I pulled out my mallet.
“Then I am willing to incapacitiate her first,” I said, to the shocked silence of everyone present. “You can read our minds, check now and see that I mean what I say.”
After a couple of seconds, Fr. Jacob sighed and said, “I’ll keep watching your back Eugene, whatever happens.” Arabel said nothing, only staring at me with a cold and defiant gaze.
A Gnome voice popped in “You won’t get all of us you know. You can’t watch every bit of your surroundings indefinitely. All it takes is one second where one of you doesn’t turn in time with the other, or has their vision… obstructed, shall we say.”
I didn’t pause to ponder how the gnomes might “obstruct” mine or Fr. Jacob’s vision, I just immediately replied “Well I’m still willing to try, and I bet I could definitely kill a lot of you.”
The gnomes seemed to consider the circumstances for a few seconds before the main gnome-voice appeared again in my brain. “It appears we are at an impasse. Luckily, we gnomes, as you call us, are more patient than you humans.”
At that, the ground beneath us began to tremble violently. I fell to the ground, as the tremors increased, and I started to get the distinct sense of sinking somehow. “What's going on?” I heard professor Reynolds ask as I dropped the phone.
I was wondering myself, but Arabel answered the question. “I think they’re sinking the house! We have to leave now!”
“But this could be our only chance to stop them!” I shouted back.
“They’re right, you can’t get all of them, and if we die down here, who’s going to warn your neighbors?”
That convinced me. I wasn’t even sure how I’d convince any of them to leave; an old man knocking on doors to warn neighbors to leave or get killed in the impending invasion of the gnomes didn’t sound like an easy sell, after all. But I knew I had to try, in case the gnomes stuck to their guns on this. “Alright” I said, and followed her towards the front door as Fr. Jacob walked backwards (or more stumbled backwards, really) after us.
We opened the door to see the house already sunken almost a story below base grown level, with the edges of my imploding lawn looking like a hill during a landslide. The three of us scrambled our way up the ever steepening hill, not even looking back to see if any of the gnomes followed us. We were able to just make it to the edge as the loud rumbling behind us reached a crescendo and we turned to see my house fall fully below ground. Dirt and earth began to pour into the depression from the sides of the now almost 90-degree walls of the depression at the edges of my property. We could only watch in horror and amazement as the earth swallowed my home, and soon all that was left was a shallow depression of loose earth and upturned dirt that looked like the aftermath of some strange natural disaster.
I looked over across the cul-de-sac, only to see Lucy staring from her bike, mouth agape. She appeared to be the only one to have seen the actual event, though I imagined at least a few other people would soon be coming out of their own homes to see what the hell had made those loud noises.
Without a word, Arabel turned and started walking over to her car. I called after her, “Arabel…”
“You tried to KILL me with a HAMMER!” she interrupted.
“Not kill, incapacitate!” I started to respond. “I was only going to knock you unconscious, only for a few minutes hopefully…” I stopped after I saw she had already turned back around wordlessly and was already getting into her vehicle.
“It’ll be fine, she’ll get over it Mr. Eugene” said Lucy as she rode her bike up to meet me. I wondered at both the source of her confidence in such a claim, as well as the lack of concern over the accusation of my attempted murder-by-hammer, but before I could decide whether to ask on either or both of those points, she asked the obvious question “so, uh, WHAT just happened to your house?”
I tried to explain as much as comprehensively as I could, but I don’t think I was in the clearest state of mind. It certainly was a much less comprehensive account than what I’ve written here. I do apologize for the delay by the way, but since this all happened I’ve been so busy trying to salvage things. Everyone from the neighbors to the police to my insurance company has been reaching out to me seemingly night and day to find out what happened. And what do I even tell them? Any photo or video proof of the truth would have been buried with my smart phone device after I dropped it in the house. But I can’t think of a remotely believable sanitized or even just false-but-believable version of events, so I’ve mainly just been sticking to pretending to have no idea what happened and being as baffled as those who ask me.
Professor Reynolds is pretending to have no participation in the events, and I haven't really pushed hard against that because honestly, I don’t blame her. Arabel refuses or ignores any attempt at contact, which also seems fair enough. Fr. Jacob has extended his support to me, and made clear to reach out to him if I need anything and that he will vouch for me as need, but I don’t think I will take him up on that for the same reason I moved to an extended stay hotel rather than accepting my Daughter’s offer to move in with her and her husband for a bit. That reason is I don’t want to get anyone involved in what happens next if they don’t have to be.
You see my friends, I can’t shake everything the gnomes told me, or pretend that because my house is gone they are too. Even after I saw that the scattered gnomes in my neighbors yards, the “agents” as referred to by the king, had all disappeared shortly after the implosion of my property. Because, I know it might all be too temporary; just before the gnomes began to sink my house into the Earth, one of the gnomes had said that “gnomes are more patient than you humans”. I don’t think they’ve given up on their plans at local domination, just put them on a pause, and probably a relatively short one at that. I’m not going to sit around and do nothing while I wait for that to happen.
Better for my neighbors to lose their homes than their lives, so I’ve been researching my options for forcing a relatively permanent evacuation of my neighborhood. Toxic waste I can purchase from the darkweb, bomb-making, carefully targeted arson, those kinds of things. I won’t share what exactly I settled on, so as not to unnecessarily implicate myself any further than I already have. As such, this is probably going to be my last update, since any advice I might need will likely be better suited for a… different sort of forum, so to speak.
But I do want you all to know how much of a help you all have been to this poor old man who was at his wit’s end. Without you all, who knows what would have happened? I might have been institutionalized, or abandoned my home to never return, and just let the garden gnomes kill everyone in the neighborhood. Instead, I faced the invaders and am now ready to do what still needs to be done. No. Matter. The. Consequences.
-Warmest regards, Eugene
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