Short Stories of the Horror/Bizarre

The Vastness of Reality

Category: Aetet 3

The Test

Word Count: 7,352

Due to the horrid state of the current economy, I found myself in dire financial straits. I lost my job because the company with which I worked for twenty years went bankrupt. My job was gone, my pension was gone, and if I did not come up with a lot of money fast, I was going to lose the house my grandfather built with his own two hands. 

Jobs were scarce. I was truly desperate for money, and I took any work I could get. I was working three part-time jobs at fast food joints, but that was not even remotely close to what I needed. I sold my luxury car and bought a small economic vehicle instead. I let my gardener go, so now I was doing the yardwork. I cut every expense I could trying to hold on to the house that was in my family for three generations. 

I felt like I was going to lose my mind trying to figure out what to do. The house was paid for. There was no mortgage on the house and no liens of any sort, with the exception of the lien from the IRS. That should be a crime in my opinion. I owned the house outright, but because I could not pay my taxes this year after losing my job, the government was going to take it and auction it away. 

I talked to one of my girlfriends yesterday who gave me one course of action that could save me at least for the short term. It is not something I would ever consider on my own, but it could really help me out at this point. A small pharmaceutical company needed test subjects for some experiment they were performing. It paid enough to knock away my tax debt and get me caught back up on the rest of my mounting bills. 

The idea of being a guinea pig for the testing of some new drug caused me a lot of anxiety, but I was simply out of options. I went through the initial exam and signed up to be a part of the trial the next morning. I was supposed to refrain from alcohol, illicit drugs and sex for two weeks before the drug trial was to begin. The facilitators told me to remain active, but not to overdo it physically for the last week before I was to report to the testing location. 

I would get paid at the end of the last day of the trial, then I could set my financial worries to ease for a large part of the year anyway. I wondered if all clinical trials paid this well, or if there was something special about this one. It paid more than I made in a year when I had a good steady job. 

I had to drive for more than two hours down a long road out into the forest where the testing facility was located. It seemed strange they would have their testing center so far out in the middle of nowhere. I spent one hour driving down the highway until I got to my exit, then drove two hours from there. Multiple turns along the way made me happy they provided me with a map. 

This must be a major testing facility or something, because the building was huge. It was shaped like a trapezoidal prism and had six stories that rose above ground. I had no doubt they had at least two basement levels, possibly even more than what showed on the surface. Every medical facility always seemed to have basement levels for the morgue and what not. 

A helicopter pad obviously occupied the roof as the building had a helicopter sitting on top of it. I did not know much about these things, but there appeared to be two more helicopter pads on the ground. I could not help but wonder why they needed so many. I began to have second thoughts, since it appeared they needed to have the ability to fly multiple test subjects to hospitals or something. Were I not so absolutely desperate for cash, I probably would have left. 

I parked my car in the designated area, took a few deep breaths and walked across the parking lot to the building. As soon as I entered, there was someone waiting to greet me. She went over the rules, expectations and such with me again as she led me into a private room. There she had me remove all of my clothes, including my rings and earrings. Next, I had to shower with a special soap and a rag for ten minutes in extremely hot water. 

Finally, I was led down a confusing maze of hallways, through the commons area for the test subjects and to the room where I would sleep for the next few weeks. I thought there would be more people involved in this study, but there were only eight bedrooms in this section of the building. I assumed all the test subjects would be held in the same area, but perhaps they had multiple smaller wards such as this one in other parts of the facility. 

My arrival made six subjects, and the last two arrived within the hour. It was fortunate I was not one who had trouble making conversation with complete strangers, because there were no TV’s, newspapers, or magazines. The facility did provide us with games and such, but unless someone was going to play solitaire, you still needed to talk to someone else. 

The group consisted of me and three other women, and four men. I know we were under observation the entire time, but I was still a bit shocked they had both the men and the women in the same ward. Maybe they were doing different combinations of people in different wards. The size of this ward was miniscule compared to the size of the parts of the building visible above ground, so I could not imagine this whole building was built to observe this one small wing. 

Slightly less than two hours after the last subject arrived, a dry monotone voice spoke over the PA system. The voice informed us we would be called one at a time to receive our first dose of the substance they were testing on us. One person would be called every ninety minutes beginning at six in the morning until everyone received their shot. Two of us were to be injected with the placebo, and the other six would receive the substance the voice only described as RT-220. 

My pulse increased, and I could see the anxiety on the faces of the others as we listened to that bland voice drone on about the procedure. No mention of what this substance was or what it was intended to do was made, only how the study would be conducted. Three times a day we were to get our weight and vital signs taken. We were to refrain from using our names, and instead we were to use our assigned number as instructed at intake. The men were 1 through 4 and the women were 5 through 8. 

Among other things, we were to provide a urine sample in the morning and after supper. At mealtimes we had to eat everything they gave us. We could drink all the water we wanted to drink, but only water. 

After listening to that voice go on and on with the instructions, I began to question my presence here. I really did not want to be the guinnie pig for something I was not even the slightest bit aware of what it was supposed to do. This was the only way I could come up with that would earn me enough to keep the house my grandfather left my mother, and my mother left me. 

For twenty minutes we listened to the man on the PA give us our instructions. By the time he was finished, I could not remember half of what he said. His voice was so flat and boring; it was extremely difficult to listen to him while staying focused. 

The first few days passed, and no one felt anything out of the ordinary. It did not take us long to figure out 3 was a real jerk, and 6 was a little miss priss who thought she was better than us even though she knew nothing about us. It was going to be difficult being trapped in here with individuals like them for several weeks without a break. I thought that would probably end up being the worst part of this whole thing. 

Some of us worked to get along. It made the time pass so much faster when there was not someone in the room with which I dreaded having to spend time. I spend a lot of time playing games with 1, 2, 4 and 8, or working puzzles with 1 and 5. Prissy little miss 6 continued to act as if she was too good to sit and spend time with the rest of us, and she generally spent most of her time sitting in her room writing what I assumed was her journal. 

It was early in the morning of day six of the study, and I was having breakfast with everyone but 6. For some reason 6 was not there for this morning meal. I wondered where she could be. We received our regular wake-up call this morning, and we all weighed in and had our vital signs taken. She was there for all of that, but she wasn’t here for breakfast. 

I did notice 6 was being very quiet this morning, but most of us usually are at that time of day. After I finished eating, I walked to the end of the hallway where 6’s room was fully expecting to find her back in her bed. She was not in there though. I went back and checked the commons area, which was the only place left she could be, but she was not in there either. 

The others were returning from lunch, and I asked them if they knew where 6 was. None of them had any clue where she might be. They all remembered seeing her at weigh in and vitals this morning too, but nobody could recall seeing her after that at all. It seemed to me like it would be rather stupid for her to leave the trial when she was already one-third of the way finished with it, but perhaps she could not handle being cooped up in here with us “lesser” people anymore. 

A few hours after lunch that dry, monotone voice came over the PA system again. This time the man explained 6 did in fact choose to leave the trial, and for the rest of the time there would only be the seven of us. We all did feel something of a sense of relief not having her here with us anymore. Now I wished 3 would leave. If he left, the last two weeks of the trial would be a snap. 

Two more days came and went as usual, but on day nine of the trial things started to become scary. Four of us were sitting around playing a game of spades when 1 fell on the ground and began having convulsions. He started to foam at the mouth, but what really made this terrifying was the foam coming out of his mouth was a bright orange color. I would expect it to be white, but it was as orange as the fruit. 

Someone was obviously keeping an eye on the monitors, because within thirty seconds of his collapse the doctors, nurses and orderlies were there taking care of him. They made the rest of us go to our rooms until they got the situation under control. The medical personnel got 1 strapped to a gurney and quickly wheeled him out of the ward. As they were taking him down the hallway and out the doors, 1 as best as I can describe it was growling. He did not sound like he was gurgling foam from his mouth. He literally sounded like a large angry dog growling at his nemesis. 

Several of us looked out the doors to our rooms to look down the hallway, but there was nothing we could see. The doors at the far end of the ward had no windows, so what was on the other side of the double doors was obscured from our vision. I wished I could see what was going on, so I could see what was happening to 1. 

I jumped, and my stomach churned as sparks momentarily filled my eyes when I heard the clanging of metal pans, trays or something crashing to the floor on the other side of those doors. The noise was far away and faint, but we could all clearly make out the sounds of a struggle taking place. I screamed, as did 8, when we heard the distinct sound of three gunshots being fired. The commotion on the other side of the door ended almost immediately. 

“Oh my God, did they just shoot 1?” 5 asked. 

“I-I-I think they du-did. I think so,” 2 replied. 

I stood there leaning against the door frame with my gaze fixed to a single spot on the floor. It was difficult for me to believe this really happened. He seemed just fine, then 1 fell on the floor having what I thought were seizures as he tore at his own clothing. I saw the look on his face as he writhed around on the floor. He looked terrified, like he was looking right into the face of the devil himself. 

What did they inject us with? What did I let them put in my body? 

We were told when we were sent to our rooms that we were to wait in them until we were instructed otherwise, but as we talked about what happened we all eventually took a few steps into the hallway. I do not think anyone was doing this to be defiant, we were all really freaked out by the scenario we built in our own minds. At the moment there was no way for us to really know what actually occurred on the other side of the doors, so our imaginations filled in the blanks. 

For the most part we all agreed what we believed happened was 1 somehow broke through the straps holding him on the gurney, and then he probably began attacking the medical staff. I am sure it was protocol to call security when the medical professionals came into the ward to get 1 and take him out. In an uncontrolled rage, 1 started attacking the staff, and security had no choice but to shoot him. No one really had a guess one way or another if they thought 1 survived the gunshots or not. 

A male voice, different from the dry voice that usually came on over the PA, instructed us all to return to our rooms. It told us to stay there for the remainder of the day. Our supper meals would be delivered to us, and we were to eat in our rooms. None of us were sure if we were to remain in our bedrooms for our safety or for the safety of others. 

I never expected anything like this to happen during this study. I suppose I knew there was a possibility something could go wrong, but this seemed to be turning into a nightmare. My thoughts turned to who might be the two placebo recipients.  

They did not tell us it would be one man and one woman, but all of us assumed as much. It was obvious 1 was not a placebo, so that gave the remaining men a thirty three percent chance of being safe. None of the remaining women were showing any side effects, but we did not know what the situation was with 6 since she left the study early. 

The official story the administrators gave us was that 1 was epileptic and did not inform anyone during his sign up or intake. They wanted us to believe that 1 had a seizure because he had not been taking his medications since the study began. The noises we heard were just him turning the gurney over and knocking over racks filled with various hospital supplies. 

None of us believed this cover story of theirs. There was no way the administration was going to convince me those last three loud bangs we heard were anything but gunshots. It was the general consensus among the remaining test subjects that the RT-220 did something that drove 1 mad, something like what rabies could do to a person. 

I was sitting in the commons area with 2 and 8 debating whether or not to continue with the study or if we should go ahead and leave. As we were having this discussion, 5 came out of her room with her stuff in a bag, informed us she was leaving the study and headed for the exit. When she reached the double doors, she found they were locked. 5 banged on the doors and tried her best to bust them open. 

The rest of us sat there and watched her for a minute thinking someone would come and open the door. While 5 continued to try to force her way out, the three remaining men went to the door to help her. They never told us we were going to be locked in. We were supposed to be allowed to leave any time we wanted. If that was the case, then why was I watching three strong men ram helplessly into two magnetically locked doors. 

I looked up at one of the cameras in the commons area and began shouting at them to let us out. This was the final straw for me and probably for everyone else as well. As soon as they came and opened these doors, I was leaving. 

No one ever came to the exit. Instead, that dry monotone voice came on very loudly over the PA and instructed 2, 3 and 4 to stop their assault on the doors. The three men did not listen, and they continued to try to force the doors open. The voice on the speaker system stopped and an extremely high-pitched whistle replaced it. This caused all of us to fall to the floor covering our ears in a futile effort to stop the extreme pain it inflicted. 

The squeal stopped after ten seconds, and then we heard nothing else over the PA system. Everyone was either cussing, screaming, or rubbing their ears with their fingers. I could tell just by looking at the others that they were currently as deaf as I was. It seemed like something out of a horror movie. This was only supposed to be a trial for a new medication. Now we were all being held against our will. 

Before our hearing returned, 3 moved a chair under one of the cameras in the commons area in an angered attempt to rip the camera from the wall. When he reached up and put his hands around it, he received a shock strong enough for us to see, but with our ears still ringing we could not hear the loud crack that accompanied it. He was thrown off the chair, and 3 landed hard on his back. 

I ran over and helped the other two men check on 3 and get him back on his feet. The charge was only enough to cause pain, but not physically damage him. 3 probably took more damage when he hit the ground than he did from the shock. 

When our hearing finally started to return, everyone seemed to be in a state of chaos. It was not until we could hear well again that we all stopped talking at once so we could try to figure out what was going on and what to do. Every one of us was clearly upset, but we had to calm ourselves down if we wanted to have any hope of getting out of this horrible situation. 

We looked around for anything to help us open the doors as we made note of all the visible cameras. It seemed the administrators already thought of those things. The cameras were electrified and there was nothing large enough to help us pry open one of the exit doors. Thanks to this historic recession, I was going to die in some lab rather than living in my beautiful home. 

That all-too-familiar voice blasted over the speakers and told us all to go into our rooms until further instructed. We stood there for a moment, afraid to act one way or another. The voice came back on and told us to go to our rooms until further instructed or what it called “incentive” would again be employed. Nobody wanted to be locked in their rooms, but they wanted to go through that torture even less. 

We were stuck in our rooms for two excruciatingly long hours before I heard the magnet lock on my door release. The voice told us it was mealtime and for everyone to go and consume everything provided. That was the normal procedure all along, so I had to wonder what the motivation behind pointing out that one particular instruction again was. Following our meal, we were told to return to our rooms. 

Everyone was quiet during the supper meal. We were all in something of a state of shock and denial. It was difficult for us to fathom the dire position we were in at the time. This seemed like something that only happened in movies or books, but not something that happened in real life. We did not know if we were ever going to get out of this alive. 

During the night I awoke to the sound of 4 vomiting in his bathroom. He went on for a couple of minutes, and then I heard the magnetic locks holding the exit doors release. Four hospital personnel pushing a gurney rushed to 4’s room, and they were accompanied by two security officers. Judging by the clacking and clanking I heard, the security officers were heavily armed. 

Something was wrong with 4. Even before the facility personnel reached his room, 4 went from vomiting to sounding like someone stuck a sock in his mouth. It almost sounded as if his tongue had swelled in his mouth. Listening to that, then hearing him suddenly stop seconds after the orderlies and security arrived frightened me terribly. There was a real possibility I could die here, and that thought caused a churning in the pit of my stomach. 

What scared me down to my core was the fact I heard all of that through my solid wooden door. I could identify the medical staff from the security staff by the sound of their shoes and clothing. I clearly heard 4 in his room gagging, even though both of our doors were sealed. These bastards were doing something to us that was changing us. I bet 6 never left at all. I bet she was dead and on a dissection table in the lower floors of this building. 

I did not go back to sleep after this. It was in part due to what I heard and how it made me feel, but I felt no need to go back to sleep. I felt as though I had a full night’s rest despite the fact I only slept for a few hours. They were doing something to me that was changing me fundamentally from the inside. 

I was glad when I heard the doors unlock and a large meal cart roll onto the ward. There were two orderlies and two armed security guards. Breakfast was delivered to our doors, and after the four left the ward, the voice instructed us to take our meals into our rooms and eat them there. My stomach was growling when my food arrived, and I ate it all in less than three minutes. I never scarf my food down like that, but for some reason I could not help myself. 

We were released from our rooms and instructed to bring our lunch trays and utensils and deposit them in the proper place in the commons area. I asked the others if they heard what was going on in 4’s room last night, but they all said they slept through the night hearing nothing. Wondering about my inquiry, 5 asked me what I heard. I told them what I was able to hear last night, but I did not get into too much detail. I did not what to make them afraid of me because I was changing. 

3 was being a lot quieter today than he usually was, even after what happened over the last few days. He almost seemed to be going through the motions, but no one was home. Staring at his tray, 3 was not paying attention to the conversation the rest of us were having about our situation and how we could possibly get out of it. 

Suddenly and without warning, 3 jumped across the dinner table and slashed 5’s throat with his fork. He gouged her neck with so much force the fork cut three inches deep into her flesh. As 5’s blood gushed out of her gaping wound, 2 tackled 3 in an attempt to stop him. 

Within a few seconds of 3 attacking 5, the high-pitched whine came over the PA system again. 8 fell to the floor screaming in pain, but it did not seem to bother the rest of us very much. In fact, I did not ever really notice except for the fact that 8 was writhing in agony. 

I ran over to try to help 2, who had 3 on top of him with a stranglehold around his neck. Grabbing 3 by the shoulders, I attempted to pull him off of 2. Instead, I lifted him up and threw him across the room. He hit the counter hard and fell to the floor in an unconscious heap. 

I stood there in shock looking at the crumpled body on the floor. The screech coming from the speakers finally stopped and I heard the sound of the double doors unlocking. Moments later armed security in black tactical gear surrounded us as several medical personnel rushed over to 5. It was too late; she was already dead by the time they entered the ward. 

The armed guards ushered 2, 8 and I back to our room as the others removed 3 and 5 from the ward. I heard them in there cleaning up the blood for more than an hour. The noise of the brushes on the tiled floor grated on my nerves, and I was so glad when they finally finished. I paced around my room trying to decide what I should do. 

Over and over, I played it in my mind how I lifted 3 like he was nothing but a rag doll and threw him twenty feet through the air. I was sure he was still alive at first, but then I really began to wonder if I killed him. He did not give me any other choice. He already killed 5 and he was trying to kill 2. Because she was squirming on the ground in pain, 8 could not help. All I intended to do was try to pull him off of 2. I never in my life expected I would throw him against the counter like a wet towel. 

If I was able to do that, I wondered if I would have the strength to push these magnetically sealed doors open. Remembering the cameras in my room, I tried not to appear as if I was devising my escape. Only three of us remained, and while I was still not sure who received the placebo, I was positive it was not me. 

We remained locked in our rooms until after lunch the next day. All our meals were delivered to our rooms until then. I was glad to finally get out so I could move around some. The rooms the facility provided for us were not too small, but they were not big enough to give any walking around room. 

I sat with 2 at the table nearest the exit doors putting together a puzzle. We did not talk much about what happened yesterday. We did not talk much at all. My attention was focused on the television I could hear through the doors and down the hall. Someone was watching the news, and I was glad to hear anything about the outside world. 

I slapped my hand over my mouth and began crying as I listened to the report. The newscaster announced there was a single car accident this morning in which the driver was killed on impact. The reason it upset me as it did was because when they gave the name and age, they gave my name and age. The people conducting this study never planned on letting us leave. I was sitting right here, but they already had their cover story for my death running on the news. 

Terrified and distraught, I jumped to my feet and ran to my room. Unsure of what was wrong with me, 2 followed me to my door. By the time he got there, I was sitting in my bed with my knees pulled up to my chest, my face half buried in my knees, and 2 asked me what was wrong. 

Under my breath I barely whispered out the words, “I’m dead.” 

“You don’t know that,” 2 said. “You might be one of the placebos.” 

I jerked my head up to look at him. I whispered those words very faintly, and my mouth was covered by my knees yet 2 still heard me. That meant he was probably experiencing the same effects as me. If that was true, I was sure we could break out of here together. 

I tested him again. Lowering my head so that the bottom half of my face was resting between my knees, I told 2 to nod his head if he could hear me. With my arms wrapped around my legs, I chuckled slightly when 2 softly nodded his head two times. At this time, I told my fellow test subject we should go back to the commons area. There we could sit in separate areas, yet still whisper our conversation back and forth to each other. 

We found 8 still sitting there looking over the wall. She turned her attention to us and said, “Aren’t they pretty?” 

We asked her was what pretty, and she said, “The lines on the walls. The glow around the cameras is so beautiful, so blue.” 

I took a couple of steps away from her, and so did 2. We did not know if she was about to go crazy like 3 did yesterday, so we felt having more distance between her and us was prudent. I watched how her eyes traced horizontal and vertical lines on the walls. It occurred to me that 8 might be looking at the electric wiring inside the walls. I very lightly whispered to 2 that I thought 8’s vision expanded like our hearing did. 

Walking back over to her, 2 asked 8 if she saw anything around the doors. She told us it was painful to look at it too long, but the top and bottom edges of the doors emitted a deep violate hue. I told her it was probably because of the magnets they had in place. With the abilities the three of us had, 2 suggested that we would be able to force our way out of here. I was frightened, but I had to agree with him. 

Staring at a single spot on the wall, 8 got up from where she sat and walked straight to the place her gaze was affixed. She traced her finger in an L-shape, then there was a loud pop, and the cameras began smoking. Turning to look back at us 8 said the cameras and microphones were all disabled. 

The three of us ran over to the double doors, but before 2 and I had time to attempt to force them open, 8 told us to wait. She examined the wall, found the right place, and traced her finger along the current. We could hear the magnetic locks unlatch, but by this time we could hear the armed security trotting their way down the hallway. 

With the locks undone, it was a minor effort for 2 and I to rip both of the doors off the hinges. Holding the thick wooden door in front of him, 2 began rushing toward the guards. They stopped their advance and began firing, but their guns were not quite powerful enough to make it through the thick wood. 

I moved over to stand sideways beside 2. He threw what was left of the door, after the bullets chipped away, at it at the security officers. When he did this, I stepped around and got in front of him with the door I held. Quickly rushing forward, it did not take long at all for 2 and I to incapacitate the guards. I held to the belief the guards were all unconscious, but with my newfound herculean strength I could not help but wonder if I killed any of them. 

Kneeling down to examine a patch on one of the officer’s uniforms, 2 looked over to us and informed us these were no security guards. These were Army personnel. We were not the subjects of an experiment for a pharmaceutical company. We were the subjects of a military experiment. 

“What kind of experiment would the military be running on us?” I inquired. 

“They were giving us injections of a substance discovered in a Mayan temple,” 8 told us. “It was found to alter DNA in certain plants and animals.” 

2 asked how she knew this. As she motioned toward the nurses’ station 8 replied, “The computer told me.” 

I could hear more soldiers coming as could 2. When we informed 8 of the change in our current situation, she began looking over the lines of electricity she could see flowing through the walls and floors. Finding what she was looking for, 8 squatted behind a reception desk and told 2 and me to do the same. 

As soon as all the soldiers were out of the hallway and into the main area, 8 pressed her hand against the spot she chose on the wall. A surge of power flowed from her hand into the wiring in the walls. The surge caused a massive eruption of electricity in the area the soldiers occupied. In only a few seconds 8 was able to incapacitate a dozen armed and armored soldiers. 

I did not know how much longer we could continue to fight our way out of here. It was clear we had to find an exit soon or make one of our own. I strongly disagreed, but 2 was rather insistent we should destroy this facility. If all of the RT-220 was here, we could destroy it all at once. 

I thought we should allow them to keep using it, allow them to make more of us. What concerned 2 was if they started changing soldiers to be like us. That would bring our planet to a whole new level of warfare. 8 was indifferent on the subject. She seemed to be experiencing some state of peace or euphoria. 

As if she was looking out a window, 8 said, “If we can get over there to that transformer station, I could light the whole place up like New Years.” 

Walking over to the wall through which 8 appeared to be looking, 2 began pounding at the concrete wall with his bare fists. After removing two feet of concrete, he ran into a heavy iron plate he could not damage enough to remove. 

Frustrated, 2 leaned against the wall with his hand on the hard steel. Suddenly the steel began to liquify. It was not melting, instead it was moving like mercury, it was acting as if being a liquid was its natural state. Resuming his assault on the concrete, 2 broke through two feet of concrete, a foot thick steel wall, then three more feet of reinforced concrete before reaching the fresh air of outside. 

As we prepared to jump the three stories to the ground, I noticed both 2 and 8 looked extremely pale, almost white. Their eyes were also changing. I imagined my eyes looked silver like 2’s eyes did, but 8 had eyes the color of copper. I was sure that had something to do with her ability to see and manipulate electro-magnetic fields. 

My anxiety levels increased sharply at the idea of jumping down 30 feet. I know I was stronger than before, but I was not sure if I was more durable. 2 lifted 8 and we jumped together. The air around us wavered almost like water and carried us all the way to the transformer. I could not say for certain at the time, but I think I was the one who did that. It appeared our newfound abilities were evolving quickly. 

When we touched the ground, the wavering air remained until my anxiety over the jump subsided. Liquifying the metal enough to give him a grip, 2 ripped the door off the transformer box and 8 began to examine the flow of energy through it. It took her several minutes, and it was not long before we could hear three helicopters off in the distance. There was no doubt they were headed in this direction. 

Finally, 8 found what she needed. She touched the circuitry inside like she was striking the keys of a piano, and a burst of violet light flashed from her hands. Almost instantly I could hear light bulbs erupting, computers bursting into flames and electric showers causing fires throughout the building. 

I was relieved to see at least some of the personnel inside exiting the building. I was now in agreement the research needed to be destroyed, but I did not want to kill all those people inside though. Most of them probably had no idea what was really going on in there, and it would be wrong for them to have to die because of it. 

Before we were spotted, 2 tugged 8 and I by the arms and told us we had to run. There was nothing more for us to do here, so the three of us turned and ran into the dense forest. How fast we were running exactly I could not say, but we moved much faster than any normal human was able. We were obviously no longer normal humans. 

Bounding through the trees as fast as we were, I was still able to keep a detailed eye on my surroundings. The trees were not a blur as I ran past them; instead, I saw the trees in intricate detail. I was able to make out the dry leaves on the forest floor even with the canopy overhead blocking out what little moonlight there was. Easily dodging any obstacles in our way, the three of us quickly put a significant amount of distance between us and the facility we left behind in flames. 

I do not know how they tracked us down, but we suddenly found the helicopters were right over us. Trees exploded into splinters and the ground exploded around as the military helicopters unloaded their guns at us. Smoke, dirt and debris suddenly filled the air around us. Giant shards of wood sailed through the air in every direction, but we managed to dodge any significant obstacles. 

It was something I could not put into words so that humans could understand it, but basically I knew the large rounds were coming before they fired them. All three of us easily dodged the artillery as we could see where it was going before their ammunition ever left their cannons. Avoiding the large chunks of shattered trees flying all around us was even easier. 

Regardless of our ability to evade their fire, it was only a matter of time before they switched from artillery rounds to missiles. I was sure we would not be able to dodge an onslaught of those. I was scanning the landscape for somewhere to run or somewhere to hide when 2 sprung behind me and caught a falling tree I somehow failed to notice. 

He lifted the log, which was the top half of a large pine tree one of the helicopters ripped apart with its shells, over his head and threw it top first at the nearest copter. With amazing aim, 2 threw the tree into the blades spinning above the craft causing it to come crashing to the ground. Running, we could hear it as it obliterated the trees behind us as it fell hard and fast. The explosion that followed threw the three of us to the ground. 

Thinking they had us pinned, the other two helicopters began to unleash on us. I knew they had us at this point. We were not able to get up and run again fast enough to avoid this barrage. Prepared to accept death, the three of us were shocked when everything slowed to a stop. Splintered fragments of trees hovered in the air above us, and the heavily destructive ammunition froze in position before it could strike. 

I glanced around to find we were surrounded by two dozen beings who looked a lot like us. These beings lacked some of the human facial features such as the nose and ears, but it was clear we were becoming like them. Clearly these are the ones responsible for the placement of the RT-220 in the first place.  

They stood around us as if they were watching this whole time. When we stood, the dirt and splinters drifting in the air around us pushed out of the way like wiping dust off a counter. It was as if we somehow stepped outside the normal flow of time. 

To say I heard it would be to categorize it wrong, but I heard them in my head telling us we were safe now. They did not use English. In fact, they did not use words at all. Instead, they communicated it in such a way that we just knew we were safe. 

A vaguely rectangular light appeared nearby, and the beings surrounding us slowly began to enter. We were told we could come with them, that they would save the three of us, but they would not save the others. I was not sure what they meant by that, but before I could ask my question out loud, I already began to receive my answer. 

This world was coming to an end soon, and these alien beings knew this. Their desire was to save us all, but they did not know if they could trust us. They placed the mutagenic substance here to allow us to evolve, to develop into one of them. Instead of using the compound for the betterment of all mankind, humans looked for a way to use it as a weapon of war. For that, these extra-dimensional aliens deemed the human race was not worth saving. 

This whole time the military was testing the RT-220 on people, they did not know they were being watched. They did not see the otherworldly observers all around them studying their every move. Those performing the experiments on us thought the test was a failure because we turned out to be uncontrollable. What they never realized was they were the ones being tested, and very miserably they failed the test. 

Copyright © 2023

We Didn’t Know

Word Count: 5,359

It was a beautiful early summer day. The sun was shining, there were only a few clouds in the sky and a light breeze prevented it from feeling too hot outside. It was the perfect weekend to go on a fishing trip. 

My friend Brad and I planned this trip three weeks ago, and we were so happy to find the weather was beautiful and not gray and raining. Brad’s wife brought their two kids over to my house where my wife was staying behind with our son. 

I was so happy to be able to go off on this three-day fishing trip. We got everything packed and loaded yesterday, so all we had to do was hook the boat up to the truck and go. We got off to a very early start since the lake we were headed to was a little shy of being a two-hour drive. We did not want to get there too late because we still had to get our tents and camp set up, and our yo-yos tied to some trees. 

Every month Brad and I take a mini vacation while our wives watch the children, then two weeks after that Brad and I watch the children while our wives go out and have some fun. Their time away usually did not last as long as ours simply for the fact they spent their money on their weekends much faster than me and Brad. Brad and I slept in tents, ate what we caught and drank beer. Our idea of a great time away from the wives and kids was very cheap compared to our wives’ time away from us. 

The drive was very beautiful and scenic. Wildflowers of all colors covered the shoulders of the road and were visible in the open fields on either side of the pavement. Large oak trees dotted the landscape here and there which provided shade for the numerous cattle grazing the bright-green fields. Man-made ponds were located near most of the trees to provide the cattle with water to drink. 

We never saw this end of the countryside before as we never went to this particular lake before this. Brad heard about it from another friend of his, and after locating it on a map, we decided that was where we would go fishing this time. We found the lake on a map, so we knew how to get there. Where to go once we got there, we would have to figure out after we got there. 

As we got closer to the lake, we saw more trees and less open space. Neither of us knew if the lake was in a forest or in the open, we only knew where it was. Judging by the gradual increase in the number of trees, I thought the lake was probably surrounded by forest. When we got to our turnoff, we found ourselves driving down an old dirt road running through some very dense woodlands. 

Driving much slower now, it took us thirty more minutes before we finally spotted the lake. We got out of the truck and walked over to the water to try to figure out how we were going to launch the boat. There did not seem to be any constructed boat landings in this location. I suggested we keep driving a bit more as I was sure there would be a boat ramp somewhere.  

We never saw any signs saying this was private property, therefore I assumed this beautiful lake would attract a lot of fishermen. The road was relatively smooth, but the surrounding terrain was very rocky. More than a few cliff faces provided a border for the water’s edge, some of them rough and some of them smooth and eroded. Following another thirty minutes of driving, we located a spot that should be perfect for releasing the boat. 

We got everything loaded into the boat then I guided Brad as he backed the truck down to the water. In less than five minutes we had the boat in the water and the truck parked well off the road. This was a routine we went through on numerous occasions, so we performed the task like clockwork. Everything we needed would not fit in the boat at once, so once we found the place we were going to make our campsite we would have to come back and get the rest. 

The lake was beautiful, surrounded by trees, rocks and cliff faces. I was really surprised we did not see any other people out here boating, fishing or skiing. The hidden body of water was more than adequately sized for all three of these activities to be going on, but so far it appeared Brad and I were the only ones here. 

We spotted a nice area with a small clearing that had a natural grass-covered ramp running to the water from the surface six feet above. The ramp fell between two large rock formations and provided an easy way back up to the flat surface at the top. Brad and I unloaded the boat, set up our tents and went back to get the rest of our things. By the time we were finally finished, it was already noon. Our original plan was to be fishing for several hours by now, but that did not happen the way we planned. 

Since it was so late already, we decided to fish from the bank and see what kind of luck we had there. We got a few nibbles here and there, but the water here was too shallow for the larger fish. Brad and I both caught some brim, and I got one decently sized catfish, so we had our supper to fry up tonight. 

Once three o’clock came around we brought the beer cooler down to the water’s edge with us. That was one rule we had when we went out fishing; we never started drinking before three in the afternoon. That prevented us from drinking too much too early, crashing and passing out before the sun went down. 

By the time we were ready to stop fishing and clean our catch, we caught nearly two dozen fish. Sure, some of them were small, but we had plenty to feed us well tonight. I could not wait to chow down on some fresh fish, and it did not get any fresher than being caught to fried in a couple of hours. 

When we first started these trips, we used a stand and built a fire to heat the oil to fry our fish, but on one trip the oil got hot enough to ignite. The hot grease spilled on the ground and the fire destroyed a lot of our gear. Since then, we bring a safe propane tank with an adjustable burner hookup to do our cooking. 

We decided against lighting a campfire tonight as we both planned to try to get to sleep soon after we ate. We passed a spot in the lake on our way out here with several large trees reaching far over the water, and we thought that would be a good place to put some spring-loaded yo-yos for catching perch and other top feeders. In order to do much catching with those, we needed to get them out as early in the morning as we possibly could. That meant waking up an hour before sunrise so we would be on the water by sunrise. 

We were on our second post-meal beer when we heard something off in the distance. It was so far away and so faint, I was unable to discern what it could be. We both remained quiet, looking out into the forest, as we waited for the sound to come again. After a few more minutes, we heard it a second time. It sounded almost like children trying to imitate the sound of a flock of sheep. There was something more, something that did not sound natural about these noises. 

At this point Brad and I decided a campfire would probably be a good idea after all. I surely did not want whatever animals that made noises like that coming anywhere near our camp. Brad got the fire started while I made sure all of our lanterns had plenty of butane. We did not really care for burning our lanterns all night, but the extra light might help keep those animals, whatever they were, at bay. 

I was tired and half drunk, so it did not take me long to pass out once I climbed inside my comfortable sleeping bag. I awoke to the eerie baying sound we heard earlier; except this time, it was much closer. It sounded like it could be within fifty feet of our campsite. Now that I could hear it more clearly, I would call it more of a cackling sound than a baying. 

It was simply impossible to describe as it sounded absolutely nothing like anything I ever heard before. In all my years of hunting and fishing, I heard all sorts of animals from a wide variety of places, but I never heard anything that sounded like this. 

The strange noises did not last long, so I assumed whatever creatures were making them must have passed on by us. Just in case, I retrieved my pistol from the waist of my shorts and laid it beside my pillow. If something did come tearing into my tent, I wanted to make sure I could give it a good reason to go away. 

The next morning, I inquired of Brad as to whether he heard the noises in the darkness around midnight. He told me no; he managed to sleep soundly through the night. I was sure it was probably some sort of weasel or small rodent making the strange sounds, but I would feel a lot more at ease if I knew for sure. 

It did not take long to get our yo-yos set up. Many of the trees had low lying but sturdy branches to which we could tie the fishing contraptions. Now with these set, we needed to come back approximately once an hour to remove anything we caught and rebait the hooks. During the wait times Brad and I spent either top fishing for bass or sank our hooks low for catfish. 

It was so nice being out here all alone. It was so peaceful and quiet; I was satisfied with the fact no one else was out here. My best friend and I sat quietly in the boat with our bait in the water listening to all the wonderful songs nature had to sing for us. The sounds of the birds and insects made me feel calm and serene. Occasionally we would hear fish nipping at the surface, or turtles jumping off a log when something startled them. 

Top fishing was not doing us a lot of good in the spot we chose, but we did manage to catch eight catfish. Each time we caught a fish, we tossed it into a cooler filled about two-thirds of the way full of ice. We would dig away some ice to make room for the new fish, toss it in and cover it back up with ice again. 

Our yo-yos did surprisingly well for the day. We generally found them to work better at night and when it was cold, but we figured we would try them anyway. We pulled nine white perch out of the lake before we finally decided to head back to our camp and get off the water for a while. Before leaving, we made sure all of the yo-yos were tripped so they did not catch anything after we left. Without coming out to check them regularly, some fish might suffocate before we got around to coming back. 

As we cleaned our new catch, Brad and I discussed whether we would like to get back out on the lake to do some more fishing before the sun set, or should we rest up and go out for some night fishing. We would be heading home by dark tomorrow, so we figured if we were going to do any night fishing, it was going to have to be tonight. 

Brad fried us up some more fish as I took the remainder of the fillets, rolled them in wax paper and packed them in a clean cooler filled with unused ice. We always kept one cooler for no other reason than to store our catch once we cleaned it. That way the meat stayed fresh and uncontaminated. 

We went ahead and swapped out what gear we needed in the boat to go from day to night fishing. Getting everything we needed in the boat, then doublechecking to make sure we had what we needed, Brad and I each retired to our respective tents to grab a few hours of sleep before we set out on the lake tonight. 

There was still a good hour of sunlight left when I woke up from my nap. Going over to our beverage cooler, I popped myself open a beer before waking Brad. The ice-cold brew tasted amazing after waking up in that sauna of a tent. Even with the flaps open, I was still sweating. 

Guzzling the rest of my beer, I grabbed the drink cooler, Brad grabbed the cooler for the fish we caught, and we headed down the natural ramp to our boat. By the time we cast off from shore, it was almost completely dark. We scouted a few places earlier for where we might want to fish tonight, so we headed to the one we thought would give us the best haul. 

The insects were loud enough to be noticeable earlier, but I really loved to listen to the insects at night. In addition to the insects, frogs of all sorts were out in the night croaking, ribbeting and singing their individual nocturnal songs. Every so often it all came together and for a moment they all sang in harmony, and it sounded like the angels singing. 

I did not know why, but the sounds of nature always made me feel such at peace. There was no doubt that was why I loved my and Brad’s fishing trips. It gave us time to be away from all the stresses of normal life where we could enjoy ourselves and forget about everything else for a few days. 

I started out the night fishing the bottom for catfish, but after catching three of them I decided to switch. Instead of bottom fishing, I switched to fishing with a lure. The moon was out bright tonight, so the twinkling of a spinning lure moving through the water ought to land me at least a bass or two. 

Brad started out aiming for the smaller fish. He caught two dozen brim in the first hour alone. Deciding we had enough of those for now, he went to fishing a little deeper with a larger hook in hopes of catching more white perch. 

In slightly under two more hours, I added three largemouth bass and Brad added six more perch. It astounded me that there were not any other fishermen out here on this lake. My best friend and I were doing great, so it appeared to me this must be a closely guarded secret. Brad never said anything about his friend telling us not to tell anyone else about this place, but he may have simply forgotten to mention it. 

I was changing the lure on my line for a hook to go back to catfishing, and Brad already had his line in the water when we heard that strange, creepy noise again. This time it sounded like it was coming from the top of an eight-foot cliff that made up the boundary of this section of the lake. 

This time, being out on the water, we were able to hear the sounds much more clearly. It was a guttural, throaty, goat-like cackle, and there were more than just a few of them. Both of us quietly reeled in our lines, gently set down our poles and removed our firearms from our hips. 

I made a soft hiss to get Brad’s attention, then I indicated to him I was going to start paddling us away from this area. We were only fishing ten feet away from the water’s edge. Whatever was making that noise was right above us, and that potentially put us in an extremely vulnerable position. Brad took a seat as I moved us away so he would not fall into the water, but he kept his pistol held firmly in both hands. 

Paddling as quietly as I possibly could, I moved us sixty feet or so from the short cliff. Taking care to make as little noise as possible, I told Brad I was going to crank the motor and get us out of here. It would be a lot of noise, but there was no way we were going to quietly paddle our way back to our camp in any less than a few hours. 

My friend agreed with me, so once we got a little farther away, I started yanking the cord trying to get the motor started. After I cranked it five times without it starting, I really began to worry. Luckily on my sixth attempt, the motor started roaring. We heard eerily high pitch screaming coming from the top of the rocks we just left, and then in a second it was gone. I believed the loud sound of the boat motor on the water scared away whatever was up there. 

Brad now sat in the front of the boat with a spotlight to watch for any obstacles that might be floating in the water. Both of us had our firearms holstered since we needed to be able to use our hands for other things. I never thought to turn on the nighttime running lights, but I did not suppose it really mattered anyway. There was no one else out here on this lake. 

It felt like it took us twice as long to get back to camp as it did to get to the fishing spot, and we were moving much faster than we were earlier. Images of all sorts of nasty creatures ran through my head as I pondered what it was up on that cliff making those strange cackling sounds. I did not know if those were the same ones we heard near our camp, or if there were multiple groups of them roaming the forest. 

When we reached the shore where we set up our camp, I was not thinking, and I did not raise the motor soon enough. It hit the bottom hard and sheared the pin that kept the prop in place. Once Brad pulled the front of the boat onto land, I jumped out of the back of the boat to retrieve the prop from where it laid in the bottom of the shallow water. 

I examined the boat’s motor and there appeared to be no damage other than a few scrapes and the stripped pin. We should easily be able to rig something up using any number of items from our list of fishing equipment. Brad waited until I was out of the water and we both climbed the steep hill as fast as we could. 

I noticed immediately and pointed out to Brad that something got into our coolers where we were storing the fish. They were opened, but not overturned. Any wild animal would open the cooler by turning it over on its side, but something opened the lids and left them open. 

It was obvious from looking around that whatever took the fish from the ice filled coolers also rummaged around our camp before leaving. As quickly as we could, Brad and I started packing up and bringing our things down by the boat. He suggested we take the most expensive things first, and I had to agree with him. It took two trips to get everything out here, and we did not want to have to come back for more of our things once we left. 

All the while we did this, we both found several items that should serve well as a pin to hold the prop in place until we could get back to the truck. I worked on using several pieces of thick copper wire as a makeshift pin to keep the blades and motor connected hopefully at least as long as it took us to get back to where we parked the day before. Once this task was complete, I went back up the hill to help Brad with the last of our things. 

I arrived to what remained of our camp to find Brad standing motionless. I could see the terror on his face as he stared at something concealed behind my tent. From my position I could not see what it was, and I did not want to get any closer to find out one way or another. I could not and would not abandon my friend though, and my mind raced as I tried to figure out what to do. 

Finally, I drew my pistol from my side and slowly started inching my way toward my friend. I wished he would give me some indication of what to do, but his gaze was fixed on something outside my view. My knee popped and a fraction of a second later I heard those high-pitched screams. Those things did not see Brad standing there until they heard the crack of my bum knee. 

I saw the abominations as they fled from our presence. The creatures were small, only a few feet tall, and ran on their hind legs. They looked like goats, like little goats that walked in the upright position. Black fur surrounded their eyes which blended straight into their thick eyebrows. They looked like a lot of pictures of the devil I saw during the course of my life. 

Terrified beyond imagination, I fired off three shots from my pistol without even thinking about it. I struck one of the creatures and brought it down, but the rest of them got away. As I stood there in a state of shock, Brad began calling my name. He had to call out to me several times before I finally noticed him. 

He was saying we had to go after them. I told him there was no way I was chasing those little creatures anywhere, especially into a dark forest. I said we should get back to the truck and go, just get out of here now. That was when Brad informed me that unfortunately, one of the creatures ran off carrying his fanny pack, which held among other things the keys to the truck. 

My stomach churned at the thought of hunting those things down, but if we had to, we had to. I reloaded my pistol and grabbed the biggest flashlight we had. Brad put a banded light on his head and carried another flashlight in his hand. Armed with guns and flashlights, we started down the hill leading through the woods in the direction we saw the creatures flee. 

Before we left our camp, I took a closer look at the thing I shot. It almost had a human-like quality to it. Instead of feet or hooves, it had three hoof-like toes on each foot about the thickness of a man’s pinky finger. Short white fir covered its lower body and back. Its arms and hands were like those of a human child with the addition of being covered in a fine, white, felt-like fur. The face was like that of a small goat except that it had no horns on its head. 

Brad sternly told me to get moving. We could not let them get too far with our keys or we would never get them back. Reluctantly following him, we ventured deeper into the forest. The ground was rough and rocky for the most part, and we had to be careful so as not to trip or lose our balance and fall. I really did not think there was any hope of getting back our keys, but I would help my friend try. 

Those little creatures moved fast, so if they kept on going after leaving our sight, they would be long gone by now. The only hope we had of getting the keys to the truck back was if they only ran a short way and then hid. It was like trying to rabbit hunt in the dark using a pistol while terrified out of our minds. 

We searched the forest for fifteen minutes when we heard something that made our bones chill. It was like a loud baying scream, like the sound of a tortured soul. This did not really sound like the small creatures we encountered. Whatever made this noise sounded much larger than those things. 

That was it. I was done trying to find the keys we were certain never to find. I told Brad I was going back to the boat, keys or no keys. We could at least take the boat back to the road and walk from there. Searching the forest for his fanny-pack was a futile endeavor. I think that baying scream scared Brad as much as it did me, because he afforded me no opposition on the matter. 

We were about half-way back when we heard something coming through the brush. It was moving quickly and would be on us soon. Close to us was a rock formation primarily consisting of three large slabs. It appeared that underneath the slabs was sufficient room for Brad and me to hide. We managed to get ourselves well-hidden before the beasts arrived. We could not see much of them because of our positioning, but we did get a good look at their feet. The feet were the same as the one I shot and killed, except these were much larger and more developed. 

Moments later we again heard that baying scream, but this time it was joined by the cries of the others. That was when I realized what I did. Those creatures rummaging through our camp and the ones making all the noise on the cliff, they were just children playing. We were so terrified of the unknown, we never stopped to consider anything. I shot and killed a small child in cold blood, then I looked at it like it was a dead rat. 

I was at a complete loss of what to do. All I could think about what the fact that I murdered a child, an innocent child, all because I was afraid of what I thought it was. Now it looked like these beings were gathering together to hunt us down. If that was indeed the case, I would not let Brad suffer for my sins. 

I could not say how long we stayed hidden under that slab of rock. I had on my watch, but I had not looked at it since we were out on the boat fishing. I could see what time it was now, but I had no clue what time it was when we hid. Everything remained quiet, and we saw no more feet passing by, so we decided to come out of our hiding places and start trying to get out of here. 

Going back to our camp was not an option. If those creatures had any sense, they would leave some of their people waiting at the camp for us to return. Instead, we decided to make our way to a narrow part of the lake and swim over to the other side from there. That would put us close to the truck. Then we could smash the window of the truck and use the navigation service to send out the authorities. 

Our camp was to the north, the goat beings came from the south, and we started off to the west. Brad and I tried the best we could to refrain from making any noise as we made our trek in the darkness. Obviously, we could not use our flashlights. Those would just let those creatures hunting us know exactly where we were. We were just going to have to travel by moonlight alone. 

This was not an easy task by any means. The moon was out bright, and the pine trees in this area did not provide as much canopy cover as hardwood trees, but it was still very difficult to see where we were going. The semi-rocky ground presented many opportunities to trip on a stone jutting from the ground and fall. I was sure those beings would have a heightened sense of hearing, so remaining quiet was essential to our survival. 

When I heard a horn sound not too far behind us, I was sure we were spotted. Those things wanted revenge for me killing one of their children, and I could not blame them for that. If someone shot my child in cold blood, I would take justice out on them myself. Brad had nothing to do with that child’s death, and I could not let him suffer for my ignorance and fear. 

Suddenly I cried out in pain and fell to the ground. Brad stopped to help me, but my leg was broken. I was not going anywhere. Brad insisted he could help me along, but I was not going to let him get caught because of me. I insisted he think of his wife and kids. I was not going to make it out of here alive, and there was no point in the both of us dying. 

My friend did not want to abandon me, but he knew the reality of the situation just as much as I did. There was no way he could outrun these things supporting me with a useless leg. Tears ran from his eyes the final time I told him to go, get away from here and get back to his family. He threw his arms around me and hugged me tight. We were best friends since grade school. We never did anything without the other one. Now he had to go and leave me here to die to save his own life. 

Finally, Brad turned and continued running toward the thinnest section of the lake. Once I was sure he was gone, I stood up and began walking back toward the sound of the horn. The only hope Brad had of getting away was if these creatures got what they wanted, so I had to make him think he had no choice but to leave me behind. 

Several of the goat-men emerged from the darkness from all directions. Very slowly and with the tips of my fingers, I dropped the shells from my gun. I hung my head in shame as I stretched my arms out wide, holding the butt of my pistol with the tips of my index finger and thumb. 

One of them grabbed my firearm from me from behind, then I felt them seize both of my arms. The creature who was standing directly in front of me, staring at me as the others took hold of me began walking toward me as it withdrew a large bone knife from its scabbard. There was no doubt in my mind this was the father of that poor child I murdered. Even though it was not human, I could still see the pain and anger in its face. 

I cried out in agony as I was struck behind the knees with a wooden rod. No doubt my legs really were broken now. The creature in front of me grabbed my hair and forced me to look it in its eyes. It raised its polished blade high in the air, and just before he brought it down, I told him through teary eyes, “I am so sorry. I am a father too. We didn’t know.” 

Copyright © 2023

Another Statue

Word Count: 6,006

We had several days of unrelenting heavy snow here in the northern region of the mountains during the past few weeks. Today, even though the temperature was still extremely frigid, it was beautiful and sunny. I was cooped up in the house alone for more than a week, and I felt like I was about to go absolutely stir crazy. 

The only road leading from my house to town was closed, as were many of the roads beyond that. I was unable to go to work, the grocery store or anywhere. Fortunately, I stocked up on food and supplies when I initially heard some bad weather may be pushing its way into the region. 

The only times I went outside during this extended storm were to shovel off my back porch and around the garage door. If I did not shovel regularly, I would not be able to get out of the house once the snow finally ended. Even the phone lines were down so I could not call anyone. I was up here all by myself. 

I felt blessed being given a nice day like it was today, so I decided I would get out my snowmobile and check out the surrounding countryside. I wondered if the whole region got hit with as much snow as what fell on my house. After getting dressed in the appropriate attire for this type of outing, I headed to the garage. First checking to make sure the gas tank was good and full; I opened the garage door before turning on the engine. 

As I allowed it about ten minutes to warm up, I checked all of my supplies to make sure they were all there. I had my tent, emergency mylar sleeping bags, hand warmers, a flare gun and three flares, a heated thermos, a first aid kit and various other supplies. Confident I had everything I might need, I climbed aboard and rode up a snow ramp I made from my driveway surface to the top of the heavily fallen snow. There must have been at least three to four feet of new snow in most places. 

I knew all the land to the south-east, but I never took the time yet to explore the wilderness to the north. I decided since today was my first day out of the house in almost a week, I would go check out the partially forested areas I had yet to see. The southern area was mostly just farms not worthy of the time it would take to explore. 

With work, and the long commute to and from, I did not have a lot of time to do much exploring since I inherited the house from an uncle last spring. It is presumed he went out on his ATV and some sort of accident befell him during this outing. His ATV and some climbing gear seemed to be the only things missing from the house after his disappearance. Search and rescue found some of his belongings, but never did find him. The final conclusion was wild animals got to his body before the recovery team could. 

I never knew my uncle personally. I grew up in the south, and probably only saw him twice in my life. That was when I was very little. I could scarcely remember what he looked like, and I was sure most of those vague memories of his face were from photographs my grandmother used to show me. 

He and my father became rather wealthy together prospecting in precious metals. My father relocated with my pregnant mother to the city where I was born and raised. My uncle, who had no family of his own, moved way out here where he lived the rest of his life all by himself. He left me an amazing two-story log house and a lot of land, but it was extremely lonely up here. 

Becoming aware I was standing there staring off into the distance, I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts. I did not want to dwell on those emotional issues today. Today I planned to enjoy this day of sunshine and no strong winds. 

Turning the throttle, I was quickly on my way. The wind was extremely cold on my face, but the parka I was wearing was amazingly efficient. I could not imagine what the wind, both from the harsh weather and from the wind created by the moving vehicle, would do to exposed skin in this extreme cold. 

As I approached a clearing in between two large, pine forest patches I turned back to look at my new rustically luxurious home. It really was a beautiful house, and the location was great for someone who wants solitude. I had no real friends when I was a little kid, and I would not say anyone I knew today was a friend. I guess by nature I am a lonely creature like my uncle. 

I could not cruise at the fast pace I would like to since I was not yet sufficiently familiar with the terrain. If I was moving along too hastily, my reaction time would be reduced. If my reaction time was reduced, I may very well run into a rock buried in the snow or a fallen tree trunk that would halt my vehicle underneath me instantly.  

This was the top of a mountain, but one would not know that from seeing a small section. The mountain top was very wide and relatively flat. Coming from the southeast, the climb up the mountain was so gradual, one would hardly notice the incline. This way was obviously hillier and steeper, and this side of the mountain ended with a sheer cliff face. I never saw the cliff from the top, but I do remember seeing the massive stone precipice once from down in the valley when I was very little. 

Stopping for a moment while I decided on which way to proceed, I turned off the motor so as not to waste fuel. Choosing a point off in the distance, I got a bearing on my direction with my compass. I wanted to make sure I got a good measurement on my direction so in the unlikelihood I got lost, I could find my way back with minimal difficulty. 

I was startled at first but was in something of a state of awe when I saw a large herd of white-tailed deer crossing from one forest patch to the other. I never saw that many deer so up close like this; it was really quite a majestic thing to see. By my best estimate, I would say there were probably two dozen of them. 

Several had antlers, but most of them did not. The largest of the males and no doubt the leader of the herd had twelve points at least. I was really glad I chose this route. Perhaps nature would reveal some more of herself to me on this outing.  

My camera was packed on the back of my snowmobile, so I was unable to get a photo of the beautiful sight. I could reach it without getting off my vehicle, but I knew any motion would probably send the herd running. I waited until most of them passed before trying to retrieve my camera from behind me. Sure enough, that movement was enough to startle them, and they ran off in an instant. Sticking the camera in one of my pockets, I wanted to make sure I did not miss another photo opportunity like that again. 

Soon after that, the ground started to become much rockier and tree filled than the terrain closer to home. Even with the snow as deep as it was, rocks and boulders still stood high above the snowline. I probably should have turned back at that point, but I wanted to do a little more exploring. 

Moving even slower than before, I did my best to watch for any obscured obstacles in front of me. My goal was to get to that cliff face today. How far away it was exactly I did not know, but I did not think it could be too incredibly far. 

The endless white snow played an optical trick on me. I thought I was simply rounding the top of a hill in between two rock formations, but instead I found myself careening over the edge of a thirty-foot-high cliff. Everything suddenly seemed to go in slow motion for the next few seconds. The snowmobile was falling straight down in a nosedive. I was in a temporary state of shock as I watched the ground approaching. My instincts obviously kicked in because I pushed myself away from the snowmobile as hard as I could, so we did not end up landing in the same place. 

That quick reaction saved my life. The snowmobile hit the ground and shattered into a million pieces. I landed hard, but the deep snow did a lot to help break my fall. When I stood up, I was standing in a two feet deep impression shaped like me. My body was going to hurt, but I did not think I had any serious injuries. I wished I could say the same thing about my transportation. It was never again going to move under its own power. 

It looked like my pack of supplies remained intact. I felt a sense of relief when I checked the back of the wreckage and found the stuff in my pack seemed to be just fine. If I got stuck out here in the wilderness tonight, I would have a warm tent and warm water to drink. Digging out my compass, I got a bearing on the direction to my house. 

I was going to have to find a way to go around this cliff. I was not a skilled climber at all, and my thick clothing was not conducive for scaling stone. Without any climbing gear I was not even going to chance it. I would rather face the weather than try to climb the face of that cliff, even if it was much shorter than the one I originally sought. 

Keeping the three-story cliff on my left side, I began to walk. Hopefully I could find a short enough section that would allow me to climb back up to the hilly surface above. I did have a nylon rope in my pack, but I had no idea how to use it for climbing. It seemed finding a location easy enough that I could ascend was really my only option. 

I had a few hours until the sun began to set, and I traveled a fair distance on the snowmobile to end up here. Now I really wished I stayed inside today. I was getting cabin fever, so I wanted to get out for a bit. Now making it back home before dark was going to be difficult if not impossible. 

The temperature was well below freezing, but my clothing was very warm and insulating. I had heavy thermals on, my snow suit and parka on over that. Between those and my own natural body heat from the physical exertion of hiking through this snow my body stayed warm. When evening came, followed by darkness the temperature was going to drop drastically. I was going to have to wait to see how well my clothes helped me at night. 

I began to wonder if I should set up my tent and shelter down until morning. Before I did that, I tried walking a bit further looking for a way back up the cliff. Before it started getting dark, I erected my tent and filled my heated thermos with snow. I did not want to wait until I could not see before preparing to stay put for the night. 

I never used a mylar sleeping bag before. I saw them on the shelf at the store and thought they would be good to have in my emergency pack. It was supposed to reflect eighty percent of the body heat back in toward the occupant. Hopefully it really worked as advertised. If not, I may freeze to death before the night was at an end. 

The wind blew hard all night long, but my short tent held firmly in place. The canvass flapped and rattled the entire time, making it virtually impossible to get any sleep. I was happily surprised the mylar sleeping bag really did do a spectacular job of keeping me nice and warm. 

I did not notice the snow that covered my tent halfway to the top until I woke up the next morning. What time it was exactly I did not know, but I did know it was very early in the morning. The sun could not be more than an hour above the horizon. I tried to stuff my mylar sleeping bag back into its original carrier but found that to be an impossible task. I rolled it up as best I could before stuffing it into my pack. Unzipping the tent, I began to dig my way out to the surface. 

It did not take long to get out of my tent and get it stashed away as well. The canvass shelter was small and compacted well making it easy to store. I drank the water I had in my heated thermos and refilled it with some of the freshly fallen snow. That would be my water for drinking later. I returned that to my pack, threw it over my shoulder and resumed walking along the low cliff face. 

Following the cliff for several miles, I eventually found what I needed. An old rockslide created a climbable ramp I could use to get back to the level above me. I was really beginning to worry that I would not find a way back up there, and without getting back to the top of the cliff, I was not going to find a way home. 

Climbing the rockslide was not as easy as I initially anticipated. The blowing snow last night coated the rigid stones with a slick layer of white ice. Several times my feet slipped out from under me, but I was able to catch my balance before I was sent plummeting down the heap of rocks. With the top only a few feet away, I grabbed onto an exposed root to help pull myself up the rest of the way. I should have been more cautious because the root I gripped was not attached to anything but loose dirt. The dead root came free from the snowy ground, and I lost my balance, falling to my right. 

Agony sent sparks through my eyes as my right foot caught in a space between two large rocks. My curses echoed through the snowy terrain as I tried to twist my body enough to free my overstretched ankle. It did not take much effort to free my foot once I adequately turned myself over, but the damage was already done. I did not think I broke anything, but I held no doubts that I severely sprained it. 

How was I going to make it back all that way with one bad foot? Was I going to die out here now? 

I managed to get myself rolled over to my left side and tossed my pack up to the level ground only feet away from me. Using my arms and my one good leg, I slowly pulled myself the rest of the way up the rockslide. My painfully injured ankle bumped and scraped against the cold stones, and the jagged edges dug into my ribs and hip. It was extremely painful, but eventually I got my entire body off the rockslide and onto the level above. 

Rolling over onto my back, I removed one of my gloves and felt around my snow suit. I was sure I tore it on the rocks, but the padded clothing held up much better than I expected. That was a great relief. I figured my chances of survival would drop dramatically if I ripped holes in my protective clothing. Things were bad enough already with my demolished snowmobile and a sprained ankle. I did not need any more misfortune to pile up onto my current problems. 

I did not even bother with trying to stand. As intensely as my ankle throbbed, I knew there was no way my weight was going to be able to remain supported on it. I scanned around and thought for a few minutes considering what possibilities I had. There was a tree line perhaps fifty yards or so away from me, and the ground sloped downward in that direction. There I hoped I could find a broken limb big enough to utilize as a make-shift crutch. 

Rummaging through my pack, I removed the used mylar sleeping bag and spread it out on the ground. It took me a few minutes, but I finally managed to get my whole body on it while keeping it spread smooth on the snow. I put my pack on the sleeping bag with me, and using two tent spikes I slowly pulled my way over the snowy ground. With the downward slope, and the slipperiness of the mylar on top of the snow, it only took me about thirty minutes to reach the tree line. 

I rolled off the mylar bag and positioned myself on my hands and knees. Being very careful to keep my injured foot off the ground, I crawled into the cluster of leafless trees in search of a crutch. I found several branches that seemed about the right size, but their crooked shapes would make balancing difficult. 

I was getting really worried about the true direness of my predicament. Several hours already passed since sunrise, and I made it less than a hundred yards from the cliff’s edge. Unless I could find a way to speed up my progress, I would probably freeze to death out here if I did not starve first. Personally, I would have rather died in the snowmobile crash than to freeze to death. 

Trying to keep myself from going into a panic, I continued searching for something to help me walk. Thirty minutes further into my search I finally found a long sturdy limb with a V-shaped branch at one end. Although not as good as store bought crutches, the makeshift implement served its purpose well. 

I now found myself faced with another problem. If the snow was deep at all, the butt end of my crutch and my left leg could easily puncture right through the surface. I had to stay in some of the rockier areas where the snow was shallow, and the rough ground the rocks provided was difficult to navigate with one foot out of commission. 

As I rounded a large outcropping, I almost fell to my back. I very abruptly found myself walking right up on somebody standing inside a rock fissure. After the initial shock of seeing someone out here wore off, I called out to the person. I was so glad I found someone out here, even if they were trespassing on my land. He probably hid in the rocks when he saw me coming. 

My brief sense of relief quickly faded when I noticed the person was not moving. Something did not look right about this at all. A feeling of dread made my stomach churn as I looked upon the figure in front of me. I took a few steps toward it so I could get a better look at it. 

Briefly I thought it might be a statue of some sort, but the bits and pieces of wind torn clothing on it made me think otherwise. The flesh was black and dry from the exposure to the freezing air with a papery texture that reminded me of a wasp nest. The face of the ice mummy was contorted and its mouth wide open as if to scream. The arms appeared to be trying to swat something away, something that terrified this man immensely. 

I would expect to find a body in this deteriorated condition out in this frozen region, but I would expect to find it on the ground. It made my body run cold with nearly crippling fear to think of how someone could die and remain standing long enough to dry into a frozen desiccated mummy like this. Not even the negative temperatures and high winds could cause a man to freeze while standing. 

As quickly as I possibly could, I put some distance between me and that hideous standing corpse. Suddenly I began to feel an unshakable sense of paranoia, like the very rocks and trees were watching me, stalking me. I nearly fell several times as I repeatedly turned back to make sure that dried up horrific thing was not following me. 

Absolute fear and adrenalin helped numb the pain in my foot allowing me to pick up the pace a bit. I was still hampered by my injury, but the only thought on my mind was getting away from that abhorrent corpse statue. I truly hoped getting away would mean I was back at home by dark. Since I varied my speed so much and fooled around on my snowmobile coming out here, I really had only a vague idea of how far away I was from my nice warm house. 

I began to tremble, not from the cold but from the terror filling my heart and mind as I watched the sun drop slowly to the horizon. I was not back to anything I recognized yet, and I was going to end up caught out here at least one more night. The idea of being out here in the wilderness with that dried up mummy, and even worse whatever did that to him, welled up terror in me like I never knew. 

I continued on until the sun began dipping below the horizon line. I quickly looked for a place to set up my tent. I did not know where would be the safest and where would be the most perilous to sleep. I eventually chose a small cluster of trees next to a large boulder for the concealment it provided. 

Setting up my tent did not take very long, but I could not use the sleeping bag I used last night. Since I was using it as a sled of sorts, it was wet with snow melted by the friction. That wet would become ice in the cold night air, so I had to get out my back up bag. 

Using sticks and snow, I tried to conceal my tent as best as I could. I was no survivalist, and by the time I was done with my camouflage attempt, I think my tent was more obvious than before I tried hiding it. I hoped it would look natural enough to fool anything looking for me, and I propped some sticks along the tent. Maybe that was just me being paranoid, but I was sure there was something out there watching me. 

Climbing into my little tent and into the mylar sleeping bag, I zipped up the front flaps and pulled my knees as far as I could to my chest. My ankle throbbed intensely, and I was terrified beyond imagination. I did not think there was any possible way I was going to sleep tonight. I was wrong about that. Between the horror I experienced, the feeling of lurking doom, the physical exertion and lack of food for more than a day, I actually fell asleep very quickly. 

I awoke and it was still dark outside. I stayed hidden in my tent until I saw the light of the morning sun hit the side of this flimsy shelter. I could not hear anything, but I was sure there was something moving around in the darkness outside my tent. I remained as quiet as possible, but in my crippling dread of what was out there stalking me my breaths sounded to me like the roar of a lion. 

There was no snow last night, so at least I did not have to dig myself out this time. I got my things gathered up and packed, then I was back on my way as quickly as I could. The skin-chilling sensation of having an unseen observer lurking about remained with me. 

Glancing all around me for anything out of the normal as I continued to limp my way back home, I scanned the area for any signs of movement. Not knowing what I was looking for, I could not shake the feeling something was watching me. There was something stalking me; I just knew it. There was some sinister creature, some malevolent force that wanted to turn me into one of those frozen statues. I sensed its horrible presence like I sensed the cold air. 

I tried to remain near the tree line when I could. I did not care for being out in the wide open. Whether the trees provided me with any coverage, with any protection, I did not know. I did know being in a clearing provided me with no coverage at all as well as making it difficult for me to utilize my makeshift crutch in the deeper snow. This was best to try to keep myself as hidden as possible. If I pushed myself hard, I could be back home by the end of the day. 

I momentarily felt better about my situation when I saw a small herd of deer grazing among the trees in a small patch of forest. If something was skulking around, the deer would certainly be spooked. That feeling quickly passed once I realized the deer were not moving. They were standing as still as, well as still as statues. I could not see if they were in the same condition as the man I encountered yesterday, and there was no way in hell I was going to get any closer than I already was in an attempt to find out. 

I could not fathom what in this world could possibly do something like this. There could not be any sort of natural creature that could kill in such a manner. If it was not something natural, then it had to be something supernatural. If it truly was something supernatural, I did not think I had any chance of survival. 

I knew I was not too incredibly far from my house, and I pushed myself even harder to get back to its safety and comfort. Feeling no sense of security near the trees anymore, I veered out into an open clearing. At least in the open I might be able to see whatever left that man and those deer nothing but freeze-dried mummies before it got to me. If those deer in the trees were not able to sense this thing though, I probably did not have much hope. Those deer looked like they were still grazing when they died. 

It was getting hard to stick to rockier ground. The snow here was deeper and spread more evenly than the ground I traveled thus far. This made walking with a crutch and injured ankle even more difficult than before. I had to make it over this next hill, then I was quite sure I had a gentle downward slope the rest of the way to my house. If I had to, I could slide on my mylar sleeping bag as I did before. 

Getting up this hill was going to be the most difficult part of my journey. It was much steeper than any incline I encountered so far, and it was deeply packed with snow. As I forced my way through the snow, I found it was as deep as my waist. There was no way I was going to be able to push my way through that much snow. Using my crutch, I began to pack the icy flakes down in order to create a makeshift trail for me to use. 

It seemed to be working. My progress was very slow, but I was making it up the hill. Suddenly I cried out in pain as I lost my balance. My good foot slipped and instinctively I tried to stabilize myself with my injured foot. When I did, both of my legs buckled underneath me, and I was sent rolling back down the hill. I did not think about what I was doing. I threw my arms out in an attempt to halt my fall, which turned out to be a critical mistake. 

By the time I reached the bottom of the hill and the initial onset of confusion subsided, my right shoulder was dislocated, and I was positive I broke one of the bones in my right forearm. The pain was so incredibly intense, I thought for a moment I was going to pass out. What was supposed to be a short outing on my snowmobile turned out to be the worst experience of my life. 

I was laying there in the snow with half of my body disabled. When I fell, my pack came loose and landed approximately thirty feet away from me. I was on the last leg of my journey home, no pun intended, and I was not going to give up on living quite yet. I forgot about my pack. I was almost there, so I did not really need it anymore. Instead, I began crawling on my left side back to the trail I created for myself. 

Tears involuntarily rolled down my cheeks as I thought about the direness of my situation. The salty drops froze almost immediately to my wind burned face. I was so close. I was almost home, and then I was sure I would be safe. I still needed medical attention, but I would still be safe. 

Inch by inch I worked my way back up the hill using the trail I already made. There was no way I was going to give up on living; I enjoyed life way too much to simply throw in the towel. I did the only thing I could and kept driving, kept pushing myself to make it over the ridge. The agony from my injuries was beyond description. I had a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder and a sprained ankle, all of which were on the right side of my body. 

I almost made it back to the point on the hill where I fell and crippled my arm, and I then saw it. God help me, I saw it. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared up at the nameless horror. Not even in the darkest of legends had I ever heard of such a thing as this described. All this time I felt like I was being stalked, being watched, but I never saw anything. Now I understood why. 

The creature, I guess it could be called a creature, had an oblong body about six feet in length and three feet wide. Dozens of one-foot-long multi-jointed legs ending in needle sharp points ran the full length of its body. The monster was almost completely transparent, and it appeared to be crystalline in nature. A pattern of hexagonal scales or facets, I could not say for certain which one, covered its insect-like body.  

Although it was flying, it had no wings that I could see. It appeared to hover in place, seeming to disappear from one place and reappear only feet away every few seconds. I screamed as I desperately tried to pull myself the rest of the way up this snow-covered hill. I pleaded to God for help, but none came. The thing seemed almost amused with my anguished struggle to get up this snow-packed hill, as it darted back and forth for several minutes while I tried to pull my broken body through the three-feet deep snow. 

Suddenly it began to make a noise. It began with a low hum, but it quickly became a deafening strum that caused the surface snow to dance. It almost sounded like thousands of crystal chandeliers crashing to a cement floor simultaneously. Bawling as I tried in vain to climb the hill with half of my body broken, I rolled over onto my back to look at the thing. 

I really believed the horror was enjoying itself playing with me like a cat with a mouse. I did not even know if the unnatural thing understood the concept of pain as I did. What its true intentions were was anyone’s guess, but I believed with everything in me that it was playing with me. It was taunting me, mocking my agony and having fun in the process. 

I begged and pleaded for it to please go away and leave me alone, but I do not think it understood me. As far as I knew, it had no sense of hearing. This thing, this horrific crystalline beast was so alien, I doubt very seriously it had the same five senses I had. I cried and hoped it would understand my fear and leave me alone. Whether or not it reacted to the terror it was putting me through, I could not say. 

The icy demon curled its legs to its side, sank down to hover only a few feet above me, and opened an aperture in its body. I could see the dark purple flesh leading to the monster’s gullet. It was not truly transparent because I was able to see its disgusting insides. Instead, it somehow seemed to move light around itself to keep itself hidden. 

I felt a strange tingling for a fraction of a second, then a burning pain coursed through my entire body. This unnatural monster began drawing the warm fluids out of my body, which tore through my clothing as it was extracted from my flesh. My individual cells ruptured as the unholy terror pulled my bodily fluids out of me like a mist into what might be called a mouth. I thought I was in pain before with my broken and bruised limbs, but that was very minor to the agony I now suffered. It only lasted for a minute, but it might as well be eternity. 

My once living pink skin was now papery and gray. My whole form was now the same as that of the ice mummy I encountered nestled in the crevasse yesterday. My body was deceased and rigid, yet inside it somehow my mind remained alive. I could still see and hear, although I could no longer move my eyes. It did not even have the decency to kill me. The unholy thing fed off the fluid in my body but left me frozen like this forever.  

Any question regarding its intent or motivation was made clear. This horrific thing was going to leave me stuck in my own dead body. I did not think there could be anything more torturous than spending eternity trapped in your own petrified corpse. The flying monster was truly a wicked and evil thing from another time or another place. 

The virtually invisible demon picked my mummified corpse up and carried me far into the wilderness. I could see the snow covered, rocky landscape passing underneath me as well as the wind roaring through my ears. I even felt the creature’s legs gripping onto my body as it carried me away. 

If someone were to come looking for me, they would not go far if they found my body where I was close to my home, so the thing moved me to make me harder to find. Like it did with the ice mummy I found yesterday, the malicious creature set me down in a clearing in the center of a cluster of large rocks where I would spend all the time until the world ends as another statue. 

Copyright © 2023

Hope was Lost

Word Count: 7,092

Hacking away with my freshly sharpened axe, chopping firewood to keep our house bearable through the icy cold winter, I watched the first snowflakes of the year trickle softly down from the cloud covered sky. It was early in the year for the picturesque ice crystals to be blanketing the ground, but not incredibly so. Normally we would have a few more weeks before the snow started to fall, so it was not shocking to see it a little sooner than normal. 

What remained a light snowfall for several hours turned heavy without any warning. People in our small widespread town scrambled to get their things inside and their livestock into barns. This town had a population somewhere in the neighborhood of five hundred people. Those who had nothing with which to attend helped others who did. Everyone helped until all the livestock was inside. 

As she stood in the doorway, Momma hollered at me to stop splitting the wood and retrieve a few loads of water in case our well pump froze. I lugged in four loads of two buckets, so eight buckets of water before she told me that was enough. I was relieved to hear that because, when I was pumping the water, I got it all over my hands and the cuffs of my coat. My fingers were progressing from throbbing pain to frozen numbness. I barely managed to carry in those last two pails. 

I crossed the room to the fireplace to warm my hands, but there was no time for sitting. Momma told me to add some wood to the pipe stove so she could begin preparing dinner. I was not allowed to take from what was already inside, so I had to go back out into the windy cold to retrieve more wood. 

I carried in as much as I could, which was about three times as much as it took to cook a meal. I always tried to bring in as much as I could regardless of how much we needed. While I was at it, I decided to go ahead and replenish the stacks beside both the fireplace and the stove. 

When I finished with that, I jogged over to the old widow lady’s house where my father was helping prepare her for the snow. She was a very nice old woman, and I was more than happy to go lend her a hand. Her only child was a daughter, and she married and moved away. Daddy was finishing up with getting her horses into the stables when I arrived. Basically, all that was left was to carry in some firewood for her. Daddy pitched in with the firewood as soon as he finished with the horses, and we got the job done very quickly. 

We made sure Widow Harper had everything she needed before we left. Depending on how long the snow continued to fall, it might be a few days before we could get over here and check on her again. The next closest neighbors were a thirty-minute walk away. The two houses in between were abandoned nearly a decade ago when the silver mine ran dry. My family took on watching over the widow woman as our responsibility. 

As my father and I walked back home, the falling snow was so dense it obscured the visibility of our house until we were only twenty-five feet away. I was so happy I went ahead and brought in the firewood. I was done with being outside for the night, unless I needed to use the outhouse, which is never a pleasant task to perform in freezing weather like this. 

I sat by the fireplace helping Daddy clean and reload the guns as Momma finished cooking supper. We shot a couple of rabbits today, which incidentally we were having for supper, so the muskets needed to be maintained. It was a bad idea to not have your guns loaded around here. Wild animals, and some say things much more sinister inhabited the forest that encompassed the homes of what we called a town. 

I was so happy when supper was ready. Momma was a wonderful cook, and I could not wait to eat her meals. She had five mouths to feed, including herself, so she always cooked a lot. My sisters never seemed to eat much, not by my standards anyhow. It did not matter how much Momma cooked, I never left anything over. Most times I had the wooden spoon, using it to scrape the last bit of food out of the pot. 

After dinner, while Momma and my sisters washed the dinner dishes, Daddy and I went out and got some more wood. We did not use much of it yet, but we wanted to make sure we had two full stacks before we went to bed. 

Momma and Daddy had a bed, and my sisters had a bed, but I slept on a down filled mattress on the floor near the fireplace. I didn’t mind it at all. I was closest to the warming glow of the fire, and my heavy goose down blanket and thick quilt kept me cozy and warm. It unofficially became my job to make sure the fire did not burn out during the night, but we were all supposed to check it if we got up for any reason. 

There were gaps in the boards making up the walls of our house, and the cold air seeped in quickly. We tried patching them up with mud during the early part of autumn, but it did not take but a few weeks to crumble and fall once it dried. If the fire burned out on a cold enough night, we could quite possibly freeze to death. 

Daddy woke me up before sunrise to go out hunting for today’s dinner. The snow was almost two feet deep and was still falling. I hoped we would be able to bag us some game quickly, so we did not have to stay out in this hauntingly beautiful weather. 

The moon was still out when we started on our way this morning. I stopped at a blind we placed at the edge of our property, but Daddy went further into the forest. I hoped I could get a couple of rabbits again today. I liked eating them, and the pelts were comfortable and warm when prepared properly. 

Daddy was hoping to get a deer today. He did not say as much, but he brought his long barrel musket and some rope. I could not think of anything else he would use those things for on a cold dark morning like today. 

I sat there patiently, sitting on my hands to keep them warm, as I waited for some unsuspecting prey to cross my path. The sun was starting to rise above the horizon when I heard the sound of a gunshot coming from the direction my father went. I hoped that was a good sound. A decent sized deer would feed us and the old widow woman for several weeks, and the cold weather would keep the meat from going rancid. 

The sun fully broke above the horizon line, which meant about three quarters of an hour passed since I heard the gunshot. I continued to wait for Daddy to appear between the trees deeper in the forest as I stayed hidden behind the hunting blind we made this summer. 

Finally, I saw movement in the forest. It was my father, but he was moving too fast to be pulling a deer. I wondered why he did not reload and hunt for another hour or two, then I noticed the haste with which he approached me. He was running as fast as he could through the trees with his discharged gun in his hand. 

I stood up and was going to yell at him to ask him what was happening. He started waving his hand, motioning for me to run toward our house. He yelled in a whisper for me to go. That was all he would say was “Go, go” as he swiped his left hand toward home. I jumped up with my rifle in hand and ran through the deep snow as fast as I possibly could. Daddy caught up with me and then stayed behind me and to my right. 

When we reached the house, my dad opened the door and shoved me inside. Following me in, he slammed the door shut and put a board across the bars to lock it. He even went around to all the shudders to make sure they were all latched. 

Momma was asking him what was going on, but he was too focused on securing the house to answer. She asked me, but all I could do was hold up my hands and shrug my shoulders in ignorance. When Daddy finished running around the house, Momma grabbed him by the shoulders and demanded he tell her what was happening. This was the first time I got a good look at his face. I never saw such a look of terror on my father’s face as I did this time. 

He almost seemed to be in a daze. Momma shook his shoulders and hollered out his name. This finally snapped him out of whatever spell he was under, and he began looking around the house frantically. Again, my mother asked him what was going on, and this time he finally answered. 

“There-there was something out there,” he said. 

Momma asked him what and he simply shook his head slowly and said, “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Momma asked. 

Looking more confused now than frightened, Daddy replied “I mean just that. I don’t know what it was. It weren’t no creature God made, that’s for sure.” 

My baby sister started crying at this point, and Momma ran over to her, knelt down and took my sister in her arms. My other sister ran over to them and joined their huddle. Father hastily reloaded his gun and took another short-barreled gun off the wall and handed it to my mom. 

Daddy took two muskets off the wall, tucked one in his belt and handed me the other. I accepted the musket from my dad and tucked it into the section of rope that I use for a belt as he took down a third musket and handed it to my oldest sister. 

I guess Daddy felt better making sure we were all armed, because he did seem to calm down after that. He checked the door one more time, then went over to the dinner table and pulled up a chair. He wiped his flushed face with his handkerchief and finally started giving us more detail on what had him running scared. 

“I’z sittin’ there watching this buck, a big eight pointer, waitin’ for it to come close enough for me to shoot. It’z working its way toward me and then this thang came out of nowhere,” he said. At this point he looked off into the distance and became silent. He remained this way for several moments before he continued. 

“It picked that buck up with one hand, with one hand, and swallowed it whole,” he explained. 

I asked my father what the thing looked like. The look on his face became one of confusion. Shaking his head slowly, he said he did not know. 

Momma told him, “You looked at it didn’t ya? What’d it look like?” 

Daddy almost appeared as if he were about to cry when he said, “I can’t remember what it looked like. I don’t, I don’t think it wants to be remembered.” 

The more he tried to explain, the less about the situation Daddy could remember. Eventually he stopped talking altogether. He sat in his chair at the table staring at the door. 

Mother got my sisters working on one of their puzzles before she resumed cooking breakfast. I sat with my sisters and helped them with their puzzle after hanging my rifle and musket on the wall. We had a lot of the picture assembled when Momma told us to clear the table for breakfast. 

As my father hung his rifle on the wall he said, “It sure is a shame I missed that buck this morning. It’a been nice to get a big hunk of meat like that.” 

“Oh well,” Momma replied. “Maybe you’ll have better luck this evening.” 

We were not expecting this snow to come upon us so soon, so there were a lot of things from the store we still needed. We were almost out of flour and molasses, as well as many other things. Father and I were going to have to borrow ole’ Widow Harper’s wagon and horses to get to town. We always pick up anything of hers waiting at the store and deliver it to her when we returned her wagon. This was the routine we followed ever since old man Harper passed away. 

It was cold, that’s for sure, but it was not as cold as it was this morning when Daddy and I went hunting. The snow really slowed the horses, and it took a lot longer than usual to get to the general store. I guess we really expected it to take us longer, but we still both hoped the horses could pull the wagon through the snow faster than this. 

On the way back Daddy pointed out that it was a shame so many people were moving away from our scattered community. There were three empty houses, the residents either moved away or passed on, and no one ever bought the homes after them. My father told me when I turned sixteen, on my next birthday, I should go and buy the deed for one of those homes. The first one we passed was in the best shape, its owner only passed away last year. The other two were abandoned for nearly a decade. 

Widow Harper was dependent on help from others in town to survive. She was old and frail, and there was not a lot she could do on her own. That was how the people in the town of Hope functioned; everyone pitched in and helped where they could. A person could always count on the help of their neighbors when really needed. 

This time we returned from the store with two bolts of cloth and various sowing supplies. Widow Harper could not do much, but she was still a spectacular seamstress. Every dress my sisters had were created by the hand of the old widow woman. All the clothing I possessed before the age of thirteen was her work as well. When I turned thirteen, my parents bought me a suit and nice shoes to wear to church, but beyond that there was not much that I had to wear that she did not make for me. 

We passed her house on the way to ours, but our homes were not very far apart. Our things were loaded in the wagon on top so we could get all our stuff out before returning Widow Harper’s wagon and delivering her things. My father, mother, oldest sister and I unloaded the wagon together, so it did not take long at all to get our things inside. 

When I got back to the widow’s house, I parked her wagon beside her home where she wanted it, unfastened the horses and led them into the barn. I got back to the wagon to unload Widow Harper’s sewing supplies and other various goods when I saw something that made my blood run colder than the snow on the ground. 

I did not know what it was, but I would never forget the horrible beast. It had to be something from the depths of Hell, because God would not create something so ghastly. It had four insect-like legs spaced equally around its round bulbous body. The horrible creature had two arms on each side of its torso, one human sized set and one gargantuan set, and no head sat atop the thing. Instead, the top of its body contained a large, razor fang filled mouth. 

Blood dripped from its mouth onto its body, and in one of its hands it held the lower half of Widow Harper’s corpse. I grabbed my rifle from the front of the wagon and shot the thing. It let out a tortured moan before leaping into the air and bounding away. 

Without thinking, I ran toward my house as fast as I could make my legs move. With all the snow on the ground, that was not a very good idea. I lost my footing and plunged face first into the ground. The impact did not knock me unconscious, but it did knock the wind out of me. Stunned from the pain, I could not help but lay there on the ground for many seconds before the sparks began to clear from my eyes. 

I picked up my rifle and dusted the snow from my clothing as I continued to walk the rest of the way home. When I walked in the door, Momma asked me what I was shooting at. I had to think about it. I remembered shooting at something, but I could not for the life of me remember what. After thinking about it for a moment, I was quite sure it was a bobcat that was the target at which I fired. I remember something startled me when I was next to the wagon beside the house ole’ Widow Harper left me when she passed away. 

Still a bit unsure of what happened, I told my parents it was a bobcat we thought was killing people’s chickens and other small animals. I don’t think I hit it because it managed to get away very quickly. I must have startled it before I fired my gun because I remembered it being close, too close for me to miss a clean shot like that. 

Over dinner we discussed what we would do with Widow Harper’s personal belongings. She passed away recently and left everything she had to me in her will, but there were bound to be some items, some family heirlooms her daughter may come to retrieve one day. I knew I was going to keep all the furniture, but there were a lot of things for me to sort through before I turned sixteen and moved into the house. Until then we continued to keep the horses in the barn on the far side of the property. 

The next day started out rather warm, so I decided to take the wagon to the general store. I needed to ask the owner to keep a few shipping crates and possibly an empty oat barrel in which I could store the late Widow Harper’s things. I needed to see if I could buy some things on credit to start getting ready to farm the land once spring came back around. Surely, I could hunt enough furs this winter to pay off my debt before I needed to buy seed. 

The sun was shining brightly, and by the time I reached the general store most of the snow on the road was melted. Unfortunately, that meant it was muddy, and I was going to have to clean the horses and wash down the wagon after I returned home. I worked with these horses a lot when they belonged to old lady Harper, so they were very familiar with me. That made the task of washing all the mud off of them much easier since they were at ease around me. 

When I reached the cluster of shops that made the center of the town of Hope, I found there were nearly a dozen wagons parked along the street. Saturday was normally the day most folks tried to come resupply, but I thought the nasty roads would keep people away. I guess I was wrong on that account. That was totally fine by me, as I cannot remember the last adult conversation I had that was not with my parents. 

Several of my friends were hanging around in front of the small saloon that served as a barber shop on Friday and Saturday mornings, so I decided to join them once I took care of my business at the general store. They were having a conversation discussing who would like to purchase what properties to be their homes when they went out on their own. 

I was rather shocked to hear the number of people who moved away or passed on recently. So many properties in fact became available recently, the bank was selling off the deeds for pennies on the dollar. I already had the land on which I would live and farm, so I was the only one who was not trying to devise some honest way of coming up with the down payments so they could acquire some land of their own. 

I began to wonder if I might be able to buy the land next to mine. I did not have any need for the house, although I suppose I could use it for chickens during the cold months of the year. I would have to discuss it with Daddy and see what he thought. He may be interested in trying to buy some more land for himself. The way the value of real property was dropping due to all the vacancies, it would be a bad idea not to try to increase the size of one’s land. 

It was only a few years ago the population of Hope was around five hundred people, but now it dropped to somewhere in the area of three hundred folks still living in these parts. I wondered if the population would continue to decline, or if the empty houses would one day again see families dwelling within. 

I thought about this as I passed by the three abandoned houses on the road before getting to my new house. If the price of the property came down enough, I could possibly expand the boundaries of my land three or even four times over. If I could do that, I would have enough land so that I could hire workers to help me tend the farm. Perhaps I could use the existing houses as quarters for my farmhands. This was probably nothing more than a dream, but it gave me something bigger to wish for. 

It took me several hours to clean the horses, get them in their stalls and fed. The wagon was not as dirty as I thought it would be, so I cleaned around the axels but did not bother to spend the time cleaning the rest of it. Daddy would probably give me an earful if he saw I left it in this condition, but it was my wagon. 

I spent as much of my free time over the next several weeks packing the things of old Widow Harper’s that I was not planning to keep for myself. When I could, I was out in the woods hunting. We could always use the meat, and the furs and hides I traded to the general store to pay off my debt. By the time my sixteenth birthday arrived the next month, my new house was ready to move into. 

Initially, I found the solitude to be very relaxing, but it was not long before solitude became loneliness. Even though my parents and my two younger sisters were no more than a seven-minute walk away, and I still worked with Daddy during the day, being separated and alone in this house took some time to get used to. 

It gave me time to think about what exactly I was going to do with my future. I was sweet on the same girl starting when we met in the first grade, and she was sweet on me. I always thought we would get married when we grew up, but when I was thirteen her family moved away. She never even told me she was leaving; I had to find it out from some of the other kids at school. I suppose the idea of saying goodbye was simply too painful, so she never mentioned she was leaving Hope forever. 

I did not know very many other girls my age who did not already have a boy courting them. The two that always seemed to be available were one very homely girl, and one pretty but deaf girl. No boys ever took much of an interest in either of them. Perhaps it was time I called on one of them to join me for a picnic. 

I was at that age where I had a few years to marry if I wanted to start fathering children and raising a family, so I decided I would ask Mary, the homely girl, to join me for a picnic next time I saw her. She was not a lot to look at, but I did not know how to talk with that sign language and didn’t know if I could learn how. Charlotte could read lips, but I did not know if I could live the rest of my life with someone who could only converse with me if I was looking directly at her. 

Every chance I got during the next few months, I found a reason to go to the center of town. If my folks needed something from the store, I would volunteer to go get it for them all in the hopes I would run into Mary while I was there. If I did not cross her path soon, I would have to go to her house and ask her there. That put me in the position of having to ask her father for his permission to court his daughter, and he was not the most cordial individual one might meet. More times than not he was riding high on his moonshine. 

I really did not want to go through that until I was sure if I was going to ask Mary to be my bride. If we found we were not compatible, there would be no point in going through the formality of asking her father for her hand. If I found that I really did like Mary and thought I could grow to love her, then the conversation with her drunken father would be worth it. 

On the very day I finally decided I would go to Mary’s house, I spotted her with some of the other girls her age sitting around in front of the parlor. I had to come through the center of Hope to get to her father’s land, and to my fortune here she was. I was so relieved to find Mary here, and suddenly a wave of nervousness passed over me. Until now I felt no anxiety about calling on Mary, but I felt an intense fear of rejection when I saw her and the other girls. It dawned on me how serious of a decision I was about to make. 

A lot of people came to the center of town today as it was a Saturday and a nice, cool spring day. The closest place I could find to park my wagon was on the outskirts of the buildings by the blacksmith shop. By the time I got back to the parlor, I saw Mary and the others headed on in their different directions. I jogged up the gradual hill and caught Mary as she was getting on her horse. 

My nerves were so frazzled as I tried to ask Mary to join me for a picnic, all I heard were the bumbling words of a fool. I think she was impressed by my nervousness, because she smiled the cutest smile as I tried but failed miserably to sound confident. I honestly thought she would start laughing at me, but to my elation she said she would be happy to join me. We set a date to meet back here in town next Saturday morning if the weather was nice. As she rode away on her horse, she turned around and gave me another big smile. 

I walked back to my wagon with an unexpected spring in my step. Mary and I were friends for as long as I could remember, but I never really thought of her as a girl. She used to run around and play in the dirt with the boys, so I always saw her as one of the boys. That was why I got so nervous. Mary and I got along and played together since we were both out of diapers. It was a good feeling asking her out for a picnic. 

The next week passed unbearably slowly. My father’s ox broke its leg and had to be put down. I let him use one of my horses to pull his plow, but since the harness was made for an ox it took us a lot of work to get it adjusted for the different beast of burden. We both had to get our gardens tilled and our seed planted soon if we wanted to take advantage of the spring rains. 

I paid my debt through the winter by hunting and trapping. I was ready to put in a bid for the property adjacent to my own, but I needed to have a better idea of how well my crops would yield this year before I got anything else on credit. As it was, I already owed for the seed I bought to sow. I did not need to lose my property over a debt I built and could not dig out from underneath it. I could not really see the bank foreclosing on a house right now with all the vacant ones scattered around town. 

I had Momma fry a chicken for me early Saturday morning. I would buy a loaf of bread from the bakery when I got to the center of town to meet Mary. She was bringing tea, biscuits and her delectable peach cobbler. Mary was famous in Hope for her peach cobbler. Four years in a row she won the blue ribbon at the county fair for her magnificent dessert. 

Momma loaded the chicken into a woven reed picnic basket I got as part of late Widow Harper’s estate, and I headed off for the center of town while the air was still a bit nippy. By the time I met up with Mary, the temperature was about perfect. We agreed to meet a couple of hours before noon, and we planned to go out to Round Meadow. It was a beautiful open patch in the forest with an apple tree in the center surrounded by three large oak trees that were perfect for shade. 

Mary arrived on her horse as I was leaving the bakery. I took her basket from her then helped her down from her horse. We tied her horse to the back of my wagon, then I politely helped her into the front seat. Climbing in behind her, I grabbed the reins and was about to drive my horses onward when I turned and looked Mary in the eyes. She looked so happy to be having lunch with me under the shade trees, it made my heart feel warm. All these years we knew each other, and I never imagined she could be the one until now. 

We had a pleasant conversation during our ride about what I was planting, and what her father and brothers were planting. This was the first year I planted my own crops, but I was confident in my abilities after all the years I helped Daddy farm his land. The conversation was not a lot of forced small talk. We actually talked as freely and openly as we did when we played as children. Our words were not strained; we genuinely enjoyed each other’s company. 

We were pleased to find no one else chose Round Meadow as a picnic spot today, at least not as of the time we arrived. I tied the horses to a post someone put there long ago underneath one of the oak trees. Mary and I spread out a blanket and set our baskets near the center. Taking a seat close to each other, but not inappropriately close, we continued the conversation we were having in the wagon. Every time she smiled that cute smile of hers, it made me gush. I really could imagine myself spending my life with her. 

Mary did not live far from Round Meadow, so when our picnic was at an end, I rode her home in my wagon. As I untied her horse and handed her the reins, Mary gave me a sweet little peck on the cheek. I obviously blushed like an apple, and it made Mary giggle the sweetest little giggle. I watched her as she walked her horse up to her house. She turned around about halfway there and waved goodbye to me. I smiled wide and waved back. 

Mary’s house was on the other side of town from mine, so it was a long ride back. I did not mind. I did not mind one bit at all. I even found myself whistling for most of the ride. At this moment I felt happier than I ever felt. Our plan was to meet again next Saturday for another picnic. This time we both planned to bring our rifles and do some target shooting. She was probably the only person my age who was a better shot than me. 

It felt nice to get home, get out of my clothes and into my pajamas. I lit a lamp and a hanging lantern to light up the room since it was going to be getting dark soon. I laid down on my bed and stared up at the wooden plank ceiling. I was already sixteen and owned a significant plot of land complete with a house and barn. I was left twenty chickens, two horses and three dairy goats. I was even considering the possibility of purchasing the land adjacent to mine. It seemed like I had everything in my life except a woman to love. 

There were not very many girls my age in town who were not currently being courted by someone else. I thought of asking one girl I knew for as long as I could remember, but the guys in town today told me that Mary moved away with her family a few weeks ago. I was sad to hear that because we always got along so well. We probably would have made the perfect couple. 

The only girl left in town I could think of was a pretty girl named Charlotte. The problem was, because of a case of scarlet fever when she was little, she was completely deaf. I did not know how to use her sign language, but she was very adept at reading lips. I did not know if I could live with someone who could not hear me unless they were looking directly at my face. 

I had a lot of thinking to do. In only a few short months I would reach the age of seventeen years, and I had no girl in my life. If I did not decide I wanted to marry Charlotte, I was going to have to go somewhere else to find a bride. I knew some others who found wives outside of Hope, but those cases are very few and far in between. Before I dozed off, I decided I would call on Charlotte to go out on the lake or something to see how well we could get along. 

I made it to the center of town five times over the next two weeks. Some were trips to get food and supplies for me and my family, but I made as many trips as I could in hopes of running into Charlotte. I knew I would probably have to go to her home to ask her to spend a day with me, as it was very rare that she left their family property. 

People tended to avoid her like they were afraid they were going to go deaf by being around her. She already had difficulty being social and making friends, and with the way so many people of the town of Hope shunned her, Charlotte did not come to the center of town very often. I decided I would make the long ride out to her house and ask her there if she would like to spend the day with me sometime next week. 

The day came for me to ride out to Charlotte’s house in hopes of beginning my courtship of her. I picked some roses from one of the many rose bushes old Widow Harper planted around the outside of the house. I thought Charlotte might enjoy the beautiful blossoms, and it would be a good way to break the ice. 

As Momma helped me snip the stems and assemble a small bouquet of beautiful red roses to present to Charlotte, my youngest sister was playing in the open space between my father’s crops and my own as she did often. Momma put the last of the roses into a flower basket and was in the process of handing it to me when we heard my baby sister scream. 

I turned to look to see why she screamed, and I saw the most horrific thing I ever saw in my life. In my worst nightmares I did not think things this horrid existed. It had two sets of arms that extended out of what could best be called a torso. The lower set of arms was human sized, but the upper set was enormous. The round fleshy, bloated body was encircled by four long insect-like legs. The atrocious beast had no head, nor any eyes or ears that I could see, but instead had a large gaping mouth between its shoulders. I would never forget this creature, the image of this thing from another place burned itself into my memory. 

I grabbed my rifle where it was propped against the wall of the house and began running to help my sister. She continued to scream as the unholy demon scuttled closer and closer towards her. Overcome by panic, I pushed myself until I ran at a speed I never achieved before this. The thing was going to get to her before me, and I did not have a clear shot. 

I heard my mother’s screams behind me as the ungodly monster grabbed my sister with one of its giant arms, turned, took a few steps, and then leapt high into the forest. My sister’s screams faded as the creature bound away with her held tightly in its grip. 

I desperately kept running, but since I was watching the creature carry my seven-year-old sister away to God knows where, I was not paying attention to the ground in front of me. I did not know if it was a stick, dirt or a rock, but something was in the way of my foot. I kicked it hard and went flying to the ground. 

I got up and continued running with an intense sense of urgency. I moved through the woods as fast as I possibly could for another five minutes or so before I realized I had no idea why I was running. I knew I was chasing after something, but what that something was I could not say. 

From far behind me, I heard my mother yell out, “Did ya get that coyote? It’s done run off with another one of our chickens.” 

That was right; I was chasing after a coyote that snagged one of our chickens and ran. I did not understand why I chased it so far rather than simply shooting it. It was not like I had to worry about shooting and killing the chicken. Chances were, it was already dead at that point anyway. 

I knew, I thought I knew something was not right. I asked my mother where my sister was, and Momma told me she was inside doing her schoolwork. She was about to turn fourteen and was going to be finished with school soon. In a couple of more years, she would be getting married off, and Momma and Daddy would have their house back to themselves again. 

If I finally ever met a girl who took an interest back in me, I would one day give them grandchildren. There were so few girls left here in town my age, and all of them were already involved in a courtship with someone. I was going to have to go off somewhere to find a wife unless someone moved in soon. I was nearly seventeen years old, and it was time I started my family if I ever planned to start one. 

Unknown to us, the population of this former mining town would never grow because the townspeople were being devoured one by one. Some horrible beast from a hell unknown hunted the people for lord knows how many years. The retched beast possessed the best camouflage any creature could possibly possess. No one or nothing that saw it, that ever ran across its path retained any memory of what transpired. 

Not only did nothing remember what transpired, no one and nothing remembered anything that had to do with the beast. When it ate someone or carried someone off, everyone suddenly remember that person moved, or died, or forgot about them all together as was the case with my youngest sister. The horrid creature was not gone with her for more than a few minutes, and we lost any memory that my baby sister ever existed. 

How it did what it did, no one would ever know. No one could remember the creature long enough to even know what it does. It may rearrange time or possibly reality to erase any sign it exists, but whatever it did it left absolutely no sign, no trail, and no memory that it ever existed. For decades it fed on the game animals, livestock and people in and around the region. It continued to feed, completely unknown to everyone, until the entire population of the town of Hope was lost. 

Silent Scream

Word Count: 7,303

Walking down what was clearly a rarely used road with a gas can in my hand, I cursed myself for ever deciding to take this trip. I wanted to get away from the city for a bit, so I decided to take a lonely drive out in the country. Had I realized this particular part of the country was so devoid of people, I would have filled up my gas tank at the last stop I passed. I did not expect to get out here and there be nothing. There were no diners, no filling stations and no houses I saw anywhere since passing the last convenience store several hours ago. 

It would be a major stroke of fortune to have a car drive up about now, but I did not believe there was much of a chance of that happening. I maybe saw four other cars since reaching the foothills, and by the look of the leaves piled up on this particular road, it is not utilized very often at all. There simply did not seem to be any option available for me than to walk until I could find some help. If I waited by my car for help, I might be waiting out here for eternity. 

The roads winding through the foothills made for a much longer walk than I initially anticipated. I was used to walking the straight paths in the city, and I did not put much thought into how much longer this meandering road would make my hike. The sun was beginning to set, which I did anticipate, and I checked again to make sure my flashlight was working. I checked before ever leaving my car to be sure the batteries still had power in them. 

Things took on a more sinister tone when the sun set completely behind the hills. There was only the sliver of a waxing moon hanging in the sky, which left it amazingly dark here on the ground. I did not want to rely on my flashlight constantly. If I ended up being out here all night, I did not want my only light to go dead on me. I used it to get a look at where I was going, then shut it off as I walked for five minutes or so while doing my best to stay on the road in the dark. 

Car horns, engines revving, people whistling for cabs, these were the night sounds I was used to . As a matter of fact, I did not really even hear them anymore. It was so much a part of my everyday life. Out here though, things were different. People generally think of the peace and quiet of the countryside, but I found it to be just the opposite. I found all the insects, birds and other nocturnal animals created a loud mix of chirps and songs that haunted the night air. 

A few times I heard something howl out in the night. I assumed it must be wolves, coyotes or something similar. The cries came from far away, so I did not worry too much about being mauled by some wild animal. Still, I guess there was always that chance of encountering a carnivore in search of an easy meal. I did have my .38 revolver on my belt, which I retrieved from the glove box before departing my vehicle, so that added greatly to my feeling of safety. 

If any hungry animals did want to try to turn me in to a meal, they could easily find me. The leaves were falling from the trees, and the paved street was several inches deep with them. It was virtually impossible for me to walk without kicking leaves as I went. Walking off the side of the road was no better. Besides, there was very little if any road shoulder at all. The last thing I wanted to do was twist my ankle or worse. I remained on the leaf strewn country road but lifted my feet a bit higher as I walked in an attempt to lessen the noise I made. The extra effort did slow my pace a bit. 

The more I contemplated it, the more distressed I became that I would encounter an aggressive animal and be eaten in the middle of nowhere. I knew there were bears in the mountains, but I did not know how far down into the foothills they came. The thought of a wolf or coyote worried me enough, but once I thought about the possibility of bears, I began to grow frightened. 

It felt like I covered ten miles or so, but when I looked at my watch and saw only an hour passed since abandoning my car, I guessed it was probably much closer to five miles. I drove for hours to end up where I did. It was possible I could walk for days before I ran into anyone or found anyone who could help me. The thought of dying out here from hunger or thirst became a real fear for me extremely fast. There was no way I could walk all the way back to the last service station I passed. If no one found me, I was going to be in some real trouble. 

The temperature was nice, probably somewhere in the low 70’s, so I was not sweating from the walk. I was, although, being eaten alive by mosquitos. I never expected to be out here walking in the dark in the middle of nowhere. Since I expected to be in my car most of the time, I did not bring any mosquito repellant with me. I knew I would be covered in itchy red welts by the time I finally returned to civilization. 

I found my eyes stayed well-adjusted to the darkness if I avoided using my flashlight. All I needed to do was stay on the paved street. That was easier than it sounded at some points. Multiple times I loudly kicked some leaves from the ground because I was unable to see the height of the piles in the dark. I did not want to attract the attention of anything lurking about the dark hills. The only way I could avoid the leaf piles was to use my flashlight, which again brought attention to my presence. 

After nearly three and a half hours of walking I found nothing. I began inadvertently kicking the small piles of leaves again. I walked with a high step for hours, and I simply could not do it anymore. That used up a lot more energy than I expected, and who knows how much longer I had to walk. 

I avoided kicking leaves when I could, but I no longer put any effort into it. I walked this long without seeing any large animals, so I felt rather confident I probably never would. I didn’t think it was worth the extra energy to try to keep quiet. 

I almost screamed when something swooped down from above and snapped at the top of my head. My blood rushed and sparks flooded my eyes. I dropped the gas can and was going to run, but I did not know to where I should run. I did not know if I would be safer on the road or in the woods. I almost dropped to the ground when it happened again. If I were not so panicked, I probably would have laughed when I realized what it was. It was nothing more than small bats snatching mosquitos out of the air. 

It took me a few minutes to get my nerves worked back down again. Now I knew it was nothing more than little bats feeding on the nocturnally active insects, but the initial incident still had my heart racing. Eventually I picked the gas can up off of the ground and continued on my way. I was weary and watched for the bats, but they were so fast and it was so dark I could not see them until they were right on me. None came as close to me as the previous two did, and that was fine by me. 

First being startled by the bats, and second just knowing they were flittering all around me made the creepy seclusion out here in the hills much more intense. Now it seemed like the trees were moving, trying to warm me about something. It felt like the occasional winds were trying to whisper something malicious into my ear. I started to feel a sense of paranoia I never experienced until now. I could suddenly sense the stares of the night animals as I walked through the inky dark alone. 

What was I thinking? Why did I drive all the way out here? What made me think this was a good idea? 

I just wanted to get out and away from the city for a bit. I very rarely took any time to spend outside of the concrete jungle in which I lived and worked. I wanted to see something green that was not a trash can or municipal bus. If only I realized before it was too late that there were no gas stations to be found. That was something I was definitely not expecting. Surely there were people who lived out here, and they had to get their gas somewhere. 

There had to be someone living out here in the foothills, there just had to. I could not see this much open country being totally devoid of human inhabitants. There were roads out here. Sure, they were old roads, but they were not so old as to be in a state of severe disrepair. I saw multiple Christmas tree farms before I ran out of gas, so I knew there were at least people who worked around here. Maybe they did not work out here every day, but they had to work out here some. It seemed to me there would be people living on the land they farmed. 

I finally had to stop. I had the early stages of blisters forming on my feet, and I was reaching the point of being thoroughly exhausted. If I did not stop and allow myself time to rest, I was going to find myself collapsed on this leaf covered road. I found a nice grassy spot at the base of a very steep hill. It was my assumption that I would be safe seated here with my back to this sharp incline. I could not imagine there were too many animals that could climb down this eighty-degree hill with any kind of speed or skill. 

I had no idea what I was going to do. I knew I could not walk all the way back to the city, but I did not know where to find anything way out here in the boonies. I really put myself in one hell of a predicament. If a car did not see me, I could not imagine how I was ever going to reach civilization again. 

Apparently, I was much more exhausted than I thought. I leaned back against the hill and closed my eyes to rest for a moment. When I opened my eyes back up, the sun was barely starting to peek above the horizon. I laid there vulnerable for three hours, exposed to anything and everything. I guess luck was with me last night after all. 

Once I put my shoes back on my sore feet, I got up, grabbed the gas can and flashlight, and continued walking. I looked around through as I walked, since now I could see, for anyone or anything that could direct me to where someone was. Still, I only saw hills, trees and shrubs. 

I was becoming quite desperate. The last service station I passed was more than sixty miles from where I ran out of gas. I knew I was not going to walk that far without food and only one bottle of water. Having someone drive along and find me was the most ideal option, but the least likely. I had to search for signs of civilization: powerlines, phone lines, well-used roads. 

I finished with the last of my water around noon. I kept the bottle with me just in case I found a spring. Those did tend to be quite common in this area. Fresh mountain spring water as a general rule is sterile, so I wouldn’t need to worry about parasites. I knew a little about wilderness survival from going to camp as a kid, but most of those things left my memory long-long ago. 

My mood perked up a bit when I rounded a bend and saw phone lines running from one side of the road to another. I ran under the lines laughing with my hands in the air. I was so happy to find this because, by the look of the pole, this was a very local line. I bet there was not more than a dozen homes connected to it. It was going to be a lot more difficult, but it looked like I was going to have to travel through the hills. I really didn’t want to, but I truly believed I would find help faster following the phone lines and not the leaf covered road. 

It helped to stay in the valley, even though it was a very curvy one. To walk in a straight line, I would have to go up and down, and up and down these steep, rocky hills. It was actually rather marshy directly between the hills. I did not know it would be like this. I had to stay out of the center because the silty mud almost took off one of my shoes. Mostly the mud was a light gray color, but here and there I saw spots dark enough to be crude oil. That was all I needed, to get caught in this fluidic mud and die. 

The mosquitos were terrible as my movement and the smell of my breath stirred them into a frenzy. The little blood suckers got me now and then as I walked along the road, but now they were attacking me constantly. I was thirty minutes into the hills and was about to turn back. Suddenly I saw someone standing atop a distant grassy hill. I yelled and flailed my arms, but I don’t think he heard me. He probably could not hear me because I was down in the valley. I tried to move it a little faster as I made my way toward the man. Butterflies filled my stomach then a sense of relief washed over me. I could not believe I found someone. 

When I rounded the bend and came to the large grassy hill upon which he stood, I called out to him again. The man still did not respond. He just stood there staring off in the other direction. I wondered if he was old or deaf. I tried calling out to him a few times before I began to ascend the hill. 

It was a difficult climb to the top. The ground was damp from recent rains, so the grass pushed loose under the weight of my body. Climbing this hill was indeed a struggle, but I finally made it. I staggered over to the man as I continued to call out to him. He did not move, so I limped my way over to stand in front of him. I wanted to cry when I got a look at him. 

His face was gray, his clothes were gray, everything about him was gray. He was nothing but a statue. It was a very detailed statue. The complexity of the facial features, the texture of the clothing; they were just absolutely amazing. Who in their right mind would spend the time it took to create this magnificent work of art and then put it out here where no one would ever see it? That made absolutely no sense at all. This was something that should be in a museum. 

The statue was of a man dressed as one would in the early 1800’s. He had a rifle in his hand with the butt resting on the ground. His hair was long and unkempt, and a beard about an inch long covered his face. The clothes were a mix of furs and deer skin or leather. Several pouches hung from his belt, which was actually no more than a piece of rope. The eyes had a look of sadness, and his mouth was open as if he were about to say something. 

There was something really creepy about this. It simply did not make sense for someone to put so much time and effort into creating this thing only to bring it out here and stand it on one of the hills. I didn’t see any reason for this. I decided to climb back down and get back to the road. I did not want to be out in the hills anymore. 

I slipped once climbing down and slid more than three feet down the slope. I tried to be careful, but the foliage covering the ground pulled loose very easily. We didn’t get any rain in the city recently, but apparently there was plenty of rain here.  

The ground released a putrid squishy sound as I reached the valley floor. Disturbing the grass and such on my way down, and stepping around on the muddy ground had the mosquitoes stirred up more than ever. Little spots of blood dotted my arms from slapping full ones. It almost seemed like the little blood hawks were about to carry me off. 

Suddenly I realized I did not pay attention to which way I came down the hill, so I was not sure which direction I needed to go. Climbing both up and down the hill, I kicked loose a lot of grass and dirt. All I had to do was walk around the grassy mound until I found my climbing spot. I would know exactly which way to go from there. 

Keeping tight to the base of the hill, I began walking. I made it half way around and still saw no signs of where I climbed up. Something did not seem right, and I really began to worry. I made it all the way around thelarge mound , and I saw no signs of my ascension of the hill. I did not find any signs of where I climbed down either. I kicked and knocked a lot of stuff loose, but the turf looked like it was completely untouched. Frantically I looked around for anything, any sign at all of where I disturbed the soil. It was almost as if the ground was healing itself. 

This couldn’t be happening. I knew this couldn’t be happening. I was probably still asleep on that hill next to the road. That had to be it. I was still asleep. 

Then why did my legs and feet ache so much? 

Giving up on trying to find my previous tracks, I looked around for the power lines I followed to get to this point. I was sure I should be able to see them from the base of this hill. I stepped out and away to get a look at the statue on top. I was sure I came up to the right side of its back, so I tried to use that to get a fix on my position. 

It was late morning and rather warm, but my body ran cold with chills as I looked at the statue. I still could not understand why someone would put such a detailed work of art out here like this, but I really no longer cared to think about that. All I wanted to do was to find my way back to that paved road, even if it was rarely used and covered in leaves. At least there I knew I was on a man-made surface. Everything about these hills felt unnatural, maliciously unnatural. 

Using the statue to regain my direction, I managed to locate the phone lines I followed out here. I remembered it being marshy as I was coming this way, but I did not remember it being so slippery. I had to take great care with my steps so that one foot or both feet did not slip out from under me. 

I was already thirsty, and all this anxiety and physical strain was making me sweat. If I did not find a fresh source of water soon, I would likely die. I did not want to leave my body out here for the animals to pick apart. I so desperately wanted to find my way back to the city and never leave again. To hell with nature and enjoying time ‘out in the country.’ 

I did remember passing some small waterfalls on and around some of the rockier areas, but I could not remember how far away they were. It was really hard to judge the distance traveled in a car when having to travel that same ground on foot. One minute in a car could be an hour on foot. 

I wanted to drop to my knees and kiss the street when I saw the leaf covered road. Tears literally rolled down my cheek when I saw that hard, dry, man-made surface. I tried to run, tried to sprint, but my throbbing feet were so blistered and sore I could scarcely manage to walk. I had to remove my shoes. Leaving them on would only blister me more as I continued to walk this long road. I tucked them under one arm, carried my gas can with one hand, and my flashlight in the other. 

My gait began to waver as I walked without moving my arms. I was so tired, I wanted to collapse. I knew I had to keep moving or I was going to die out here. Knowing this was the only thing that kept me standing. 

Time became blurry. I was not sure how long it was since I got back on the road. I know it was a long time, but that was about as accurate as I could be. Dehydration was thickening my blood and it felt as if my heart was about to leap out of my chest. It took absolutely everything I had in me to keep going. 

Suddenly I noticed the rushing sound of flowing water. I did not believe it at first. I was sure it was nothing more than a hallucination brought on by exhaustion and dehydration. As I listened, I continued to hear it. It was real. From this distance it was very difficult to tell where the sound was originating. The ringing in my ears made pinpointing it from a distance all but impossible. 

Continuing forward, I tried my best to focus on that wonderful sound of life-sustaining water. Eventually the sound grew louder and louder. The louder it became, the surer I was that I was going to find it. Working my dry tongue against my cracked lips, I could almost taste the cold spring water. 

Finally, I found the location of the sound; I had to once again leave the road and walk a little deeper into the hills. This area was steeper, and much rockier than the previous area I explored. I found a large pool of water. As much as I wanted to dive into it and start drinking, I knew I needed to follow the water a little closer to the source. The water needed to be cold and flowing, and this water was heated by the sun and stagnate. 

It was only another hundred feet or so before I found the fresh spring from which the water flowed from the rocks. Being as careful as I could not to slip and fall, I worked my way to the spring and began drinking. I could not control myself and I drank until my side began to cramp. Grabbing my side with both hands, I doubled over onto the ground. 

The pain was absolutely excruciating, but after a short time it subsided. My mouth was still dry, and the running water only made me thirstier. I began taking small drinks and allowing that to settle before I drank any more. I was probably there for an hour before I started to feel normal again. I was not going to die from thirst today. 

I stayed there by the little waterfall replenishing the missing water from my body for another hour before getting back to the road. Walking with cramps would be next to impossible, so I needed to make sure the water was getting absorbed into my system. Trying to make it on foot with a stomach full of water would leave me doubled over once again. 

When I did finally follow the flow of the water back to the large pool, I saw what I first thought to be nothing but a rock on the side of a grassy hill partially covered in trees. As I looked at it for a moment, I realized it looked more like a person. It looked like a person, but it did not move. 

As frightened as I was at that moment, I still could not resist the urge to get a close look at the statue. It was not far, and I made sure to study the landmarks before I left the water’s edge. I was not going to get myself in the same predicament as before. That was not a mistake I planned to make twice. 

This figure appeared to be made of the same sort of stone as the first statue. I stayed a few feet to the side of it and climbed up to get a look at it from the front. When I did, I wished I stayed away from it. 

This figure was that of a woman. Her mouth was wide-open in what appeared to be mid-scream, and the features on her face were contorted in fear. Her hair was disheveled, but it reminded me of the hairstyles that were so popular in the mid 1980’s. She looked like she was trying to get away from something, like she was desperately trying to get away with her life. 

I started running. I did not notice the pain in my feet anymore. The fear overcame that. Unfortunately, my fear also made me careless. I was paying attention to what was up ahead and not what was right in front of me. I hit a small grassy patch in the rocks and it went right out from under me. 

The next thing I knew it was dark again. I had no idea for how long. I slipped on that patch of grass and banged my head pretty good. I tried to ignore the pounding in my skull enough to get myself comfortably into a seated position. I tried to get a look at my watch, but I could see the screen was cracked. I took it off and angrily threw it into the darkness. 

There was a little sliver of moon out tonight, and I already determined it was in the waxing phase. I like looking at the moon through my telescope at home, so I became good at deducing the time by the position and phase of the moon. 

It was a little after midnight. At least I had that figured out. Using my shirt, I dabbed at the back of my head gently then checked the fabric for blood. There was a little, but it did not seem to be too bad. Suddenly there was a sinking feeling in my stomach as I realized I left my flashlight back at the statue on the top of that hill. I was in such a panic; I did not even think about it. All I could think about all day was finding water. Now it was dark, and I was virtually blind. 

There simply was not enough moonlight to use for navigation. The sound of the water was still very clear, so I did my best to take small steps and worked my way to the spring. Once I reached the pool it was a straight shot back to the road again. It took a long time. It felt like an eternity, and I could swear I felt eyes glaring at me. I did not know where they were, but I was sure this was more than a sense of paranoia. 

This feeling I was being watched made me want to rush. It was a struggle not to follow my instincts and flee as fast as I possible could, but I knew the chances of me injuring myself were a hundred times better in the dark than in the daytime. Already possibly having a serious head injury, I did not want to fall and hurt myself again. 

Feeling like something was about to come bearing down on me, I experienced a very momentary sense of relief when I saw the reflection of the moon dancing on the surface of that large pool. From there I knew which direction I should go. I was so glad I had the forethought this time to familiarize myself with the area before straying off. Even in this haunting darkness, I was able to locate my markers. I was only ten feet away from the road when the grass under my right foot slipped free from the marshy ground. 

Again, I slipped and fell on my back, but this time I smacked down into the mud rather than banging my head on another rock. It hurt. It hurt a lot, but I did not knock myself unconscious this time. A few minutes passed as I caught my breath and allowed the sparks in my eyes to subside before attempting to get myself off the ground. 

My whole back side was covered in mud and grass. I needed to wash my head wound and drink some more water, but there was no possible way I was going to even consider attempting to feel my way through the dark over that slippery, rocky terrain created by that fresh water spring. 

Finally making it back to that old country road, I dropped to my knees and started crying. I started bawling is more like it. Death felt so close; I wondered if those were the sinister eyes I felt staring at me. 

Was the Grim Reaper following me waiting for me to make that one fatal mistake? 

Mud filled my shoes when I fell. I had no other choice than to remove them from my feet again. Taking them off to tuck them back under my arm, it dawned on me I never picked up the gas can after I fell the first time. When I was rescued, if I was ever rescued, hopefully they would have one because I was not going to leave this road again. 

Ignoring the pain coursing from my feet to my head, I ran as fast as I could. The piles of leaves on the road shifted under my feet, and I had to again stop and walk. Something was out there stalking me. I could feel it like I could feel the blisters on my feet. At this point I would be happy if it was a wolf hiding in the darkness, but I did not think that was the case. This thing haunting me was not something natural to this world. 

My body told me I had to stop, but I would not listen. I was not going to stop until I saw the sun again. Fear and fear alone kept me going. I pushed through the pain and kept on the move. There was no way I was going to sit out here in the dark with whatever it was that was watching me. 

Every now and then I stepped on a small rock concealed under the heaping leaves. It hurt intensely, but I could not put on my shoes until I could get the silty mud out of them. Crumbled leaves and tiny sticks stuck to the mud on my socks, but I was not going to walk fully barefooted. The socks did not provide much protection, but they did provide some. I had to routinely clean the debris from my feet taking up time and energy I did not have. I needed to get as far as I could while it was still dark and cool. Once the sun came back out, I would begin sweating again. That meant I would need to find another source of drinkable water. 

With the exception of the pain from stepping on the occasional rock, walking on the leaves in my socked feet was actually quite comfortable. Wearing my mud filled shoes would only cause my blisters to progress faster, so this was some small relief in an otherwise intense situation. 

Because of the noise made as I walked through the growing cover of leaves on the road, I did not notice it until I stopped to rest for a moment. The sound of trickling water was inviting as it echoed in the night air. I was insatiably thirsty and wanted so badly to go find the spring, but there was absolutely no chance I was going to go off into the hills in the dark. Fortunately, sunrise came not even an hour later. 

There was no sense of relief when the sun did finally begin to rise. Whatever was following me, it was still out there hiding. The sun did not make the danger go away; it simply gave me a better chance of seeing what it was. I would not feel safe again until I was seated on the couch in my modestly sized apartment in the city. 

I waited until the sun rose above the tops of the hills before going in search of water. I had to go in my socked feet until I could wash out my shoes, but that seemed to make the walk on the slippery rocks a little easier. The ability of my foot to form around the shape of the water eroded rocks gave me a much firmer footing than my shoes ever could. 

Locating the running water, I followed it upstream in search of its source. Straight from a spring is the only place one could find drinkable water out here in the middle of nowhere. The water in the small stream was contaminated by microscopic animals and bacteria. The spot where the water emerged directly from the rocks in the hills was where the cleanest water could be found. 

Before I set off to follow the water upstream, I washed my shoes out at this part of the stream. Most of the mud came right off, but small clumps of black would not wash off. Even after using my hands to try to scrub it off, the black stuff remained. I pulled my shoe back out of the water and looked at it more closely. It did not look like dirt. It looked like that black stuff I saw mixed in with the mud close to where I found that first statue. 

I checked my socks and the substance was on them too. Removing my socks, I found the stuff was on my feet. I looked under my arm where I carried my shoes and found spots of it there as well. Washing it off did not work. Trying to wipe it away did not work. It was adhering to me like little droplets of tar. I was sure some good strong soap would get it off once I got rescued and got home. 

I shook as much water as I could out of my shoes and tied the laces together. I hung them around my neck and began my walk upstream. It was really very beautiful. The stream-bed consisted of nothing but rock. All the dirt and silt washed away long ago. The vegetation, though late in the season, was still a strong and healthy dark green. Soft moss covered many of the rocks, and yellow and bright orange lichens tried to cover what the moss did not. 

I did not have to follow the stream to its origin this time. Multiple springs fed this one, so all I had to do was find the closest one. That did not take nearly as much time as I thought it would. I felt the water and found it was icy cold. I washed my hands off as best as I could and then used them as a cup to feed myself water from the spring. It did not flow as strong as the spring yesterday, so I could not drink from it directly. This was going to take a little time, but I saved a lot of time not following the stream to its source. 

When I shifted my weight from one side to the other, I lost my balance and slipped. I did not slip enough to fall, but I did kick loose a two square foot patch of moss growing on a large rock. In the rich mud, I saw more of that black oily substance. 

What was that stuff? Could it be crude oil seeping out of the ground? Was it some sort of pollution? 

I screamed when the substance spread to the loosened moss, pulled it back in place, and made it look as if it was never disturbed. I screamed both from the fright of that unnatural sight and from excruciating pain. When the black substance became active, all the little black droplets on my body began to burn. It felt like someone kicked the hot coals of a camp fire at me causing the burning cinders to blow on me like snow. 

I could not believe what I saw. The ground healed itself. These hills were alive, or something was alive in them. That explained why I could not find where I disturbed the ground at the hill with the statue of the man on top. I began to panic as I considered the terrifying possibilities. 

Was this natural, supernatural or alien in nature, and was it ever going to let me get out of here alive? 

I grabbed my shoes and began to run. I did not think about falling or slipping on the wet stones. The only thing on my mind was getting away. I did not know where I could get away to, but if I reached the road, at least I would be back on a man-made surface. I never saw any of that oily black stuff on the leaves or anything on the paved surface. I prayed it was not in the water, because if it was, I just put it directly into my body. 

I tried to vomit. I stuck my finger down my throat to try and make myself gag. I did my best to expunge the water from my stomach, but unfortunately I had no success. I had to pray none of that stuff was in the cold spring water I consumed only minutes ago. 

I got up and ran in such a hurry, I left my shoes sitting by the small waterfall. I still had my pistol though. I never removed it from my belt. I did not think it would do me any good against these living hills, but it still gave me some measure of comfort having it on me. 

With my adrenalin still surging from the horror I experienced, I jogged down the road as far as I could. My body wanted to collapse on me, but I wanted nothing more than to get away from here and away from this cursed terrain. I did not know how far this stuff spread. It went back at least as far as the first statue I found. That was more than a full day’s walk. I had to wonder if it was just around the road, or if it also went deep into the hills. 

When I stopped, I bent over and put my hands on my knees to rest a moment. I glanced at the black stuff adhered to my skin. Suppressing my urge to cry, I could not suppress the tears that ran from my eyes. The spots were larger, and the skin around them began to grow very dry and rough. Checking my feet, I found the same thing happening there. Panic and fear surged through me like a bolt of lightning. The stuff was doing something to me, changing me. 

The coloration of the dry skin was the same as that of the two statues. They looked so realistic because they were real. Those figures were no works of art at all. Those figures were people just like me. This horrid substance was going to turn me into stone. 

How could that possibly be? 

I tried gripping one of the droplets between my fingernails to try and pluck it from my skin, but it was not going to come off. I tried again to wipe it with my shirt to no avail. I already tried washing it off in the water. I wish I still had my gas can. Perhaps the few drops of gas that were still in it would remove this stuff. 

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a voice whisper into my ear. I could not understand what it said, but I could pick up on the malicious tone. I heard it a second time. This time it was much clearer, but I still could not understand it. It sounded as if it were in some long-lost language. 

Frantically I looked around me for the source of that voice. It sounded like it was whispering right into my ear, but there was nothing near me. I swung my arms around the air with my palms open as if I were trying to swat something away. 

A shock surged through my whole body when the ghostly voice screamed at me. It was a scream of rage yet somehow a scream of sorrow. I could not see anything that could be making these sounds and that terrified me beyond any level of fear I knew. 

I was going to run, but a large mass of the black substance began to cover a large section of the road. I turned to run back, but the stuff covered that direction too. The patches of the goo were already too wide for me to jump. 

As I stood there trying to figure out how to get around the black ooze, a pillar of the substance rose out of the ground at the edge of the road. It took on a very vaguely human shape, like it was trying to imitate me. I could feel it staring at me, observing me. The retched thing had no eyes, but I could still feel it looking at me. I stood, almost as if mesmerized, and stared back at the unnatural thing. 

The unholy pillar of sludge began to roil and bubble. I knew my gun would do no good against the ooze, so I pulled it from my belt and turned it on myself. It was too late. The thing erupted, covering my body in that filthy black ooze. Instantly, I froze in place. My knees were bent and my hands wrapped around the butt of my pistol holding it to my temple. My face was contorted in fear, turned to stone forever in a silent scream. 

Copyright 2023 ©

Icy Lake

Word Count: 9,773

It was a magnificently beautiful drive out into the country where we would spend the next couple of weeks away from civilization. A recent snowfall left the countryside covered with a soft, pure white blanket. This last storm was a heavy one which left some trees leaning in one direction from the weight of the billowy snow nestled in their branches.

Many farmers who tended the local fields lived on this secluded road, and together they came out and cleared the main route along with a few smaller roads. The snow, moved using tractors and other farm equipment, was packed to the side and created a five-foot wall. With the exception of these few places, the soft white blanket was untouched and pristine.

I was so glad to have the opportunity to drive out here with Cynthia, my wife of six months, and our two best friends Walter and Margret. The company for which I worked owned a luxury cabin deep in the woods past all of these farms at the top of a mountain. It was a place usually reserved for the executives, but due to my excellent performance recently drawing to the firm several large accounts, I was given two weeks off and access to the cabin for that time.

The cabin where we were going to stay was far from any cell towers, meaning we would have no cell connection the whole time we stayed here. The idea of spending time away from phones, television and the internet did give me a small amount of anxiety, but I was excited to be off the grid even if only for a short period of time.

It would be nice to cozy up to Cinthia in front of a warm fire, both of us covered under a warm blanket, and drinking hot buttered rum. The cabin had a fireplace in each of the three bedrooms, in addition to one in the den, the living room and in the game room. They functioned with either wood or gas, and there was a stack of split wood provided for us outside. With another couple in the house, we would have a private fire place away from them when we wanted one.

My car, or any one of our cars for that matter, never would have made it through the heavy snow that still concealed the ground. Knowing this, the firm rented me a large four-wheel drive off-road truck for my trip just in the case we did run into such weather. I am so glad they did, because the trip would be at an end hours ago if not. I still worried about our safety at first, but this huge monster seemed to have no trouble on the new snow fallen on the areas already cleared. I was sure once we passed the farmers’ roads the drive would be much worse, but I had confidence we would make it safely to our destination.

I was right in my assumption. When we reached the private road leading up to the cabin, the semi-cleared road ended. I now faced a gradual uphill climb in snow every bit of three feet deep. My friend told me not to attempt it; that we should turn around and go somewhere else, but after driving this beast for a few hours, I was sure it could easily make the climb.

There were a few times I thought I might get us stuck. Every time I heard the tires slip and spin on the snow, I thought that was it; we’re going to get stranded in this truck out here past the edge of any cell coverage. We made it through every time though. After a long, anxious hour of plowing this massive truck through the snow, we finally reached our destination.

I could hardly believe what I saw when we rounded the top of the hill. The cabin sat in the middle of a large opening with only the occasional tree here and there. Surrounding the area was a double ringed pathway of trees. What were possibly bushes were obscured by the snow and were nothing more than rounded bumps at the snow’s surface.

The cabin was absolutely incredible. It was a two-story rustic log structure. Large heavily insulated windows took the place of walls for half of the downstairs area as well as each bedroom upstairs having large windows and glass doors for the outer walls so occupants could look out over the beautiful landscape. I guess we did not really have to worry about privacy since the firm owned all the land for ten miles in every direction. Still, I hoped there were drapes or something to provide additional seclusion for when my wife and I wanted to be intimate.

It was a bit of work trudging a path from the truck to the cabin. I led the way and Walter followed, clearing as much as we could so that our wives would not have so much trouble. We were covered in snow up to our armpits by the time we got to the front door. I let the ladies in and my friend and I went back to get the luggage. It was very difficult to carry much with our narrow pathway, so it took us several trips to get everything inside.

Cynthia already had our room picked out by the time Walter and I were done, so I went straight up there to get out of my snow-caked clothing. I was quite shocked by how large the bedroom was. It had a king-sized bed. There was a poker table and five chairs, two couches and a loveseat, two very nice dressers and a vanity table. Six lamps spread about the room. Each one of them was of a different size but the same design. A table sat next to the massive window and door that made up the north wall. Various decorations were placed around the room with the skills of a professional decorator.

Adjacent to our room was a bathroom larger than my bedroom at home. The shower could comfortably accommodate six people, there were two toilets, and two sinks and mirrors. It even had a bidet’ directly between the toilets. This place was absolutely spectacular, and I thought I could really see me spending the rest of my life out here.

After a moment to take in all the luxury surrounding me, I got into the shower and removed my clothes. The snow began to melt a little, but most of it was still frozen. I dried myself a bit with a towel and redressed myself in some fresh clothes.

It was a long drive and everyone was famished from the ride. I promised them I would cook us dinner once we got here. I was tired and cooking was one of the last things I wanted to do now, but I made a promise.

Cynthia and I immediately started talking about our bedroom the moment I came down the stairs. Our friends joined in and we all took turns marveling over the beauty and luxury of this place. None of us ever stayed anywhere quite as upscale as this cabin. Unless I climbed high up the corporate ladder, this would probably be the last time I stayed somewhere like this.

I kept dinner simple and quick. Everyone was hungry, and I certainly did not want to cook anything fancy or difficult. I settled for hamburgers and home fries. We all ate rather quickly then retreated to another room.

One single dark stained wooden wall divided the downstairs lengthwise with an additional room at each end. It made me feel a little more comfortable knowing someone could not see straight through the building.

Two leather couches, a loveseat and four chairs lined the wall. The furniture was arranged in a slight semi-circle formation to encourage conversation, but they all faced the window well enough to have a pleasant view of the beautiful snow outside. A large fireplace built in with the windows crackled and popped while providing a soothing, warming radiation.

Even though it became dark hours ago, we could still see the outside rather well. The moon was almost full, illuminating the white snow, which in turn seemed to make it even brighter. It was definitely a sight to behold. I could not wait to see it in the daylight.

Eventually Cynthia and I said good night to our friends and climbed the curved staircase to our room. Even though we were still newlyweds, and our desire for each other stirred a bit, we were both too tired and stiff from the ride up here. We simply had to wait until tomorrow for that. Instead, we removed our clothes and climbed under the heavy down comforter covering the large bed. With Cynthia snuggled in my arms, we drifted off into a deep sleep.

I awoke to the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I rolled over to look at Cynthia, but she was not there. I donned a bathrobe provided as another step in the luxury of the cabin and went downstairs to join her. I found Margaret was there with her. The two sipped their coffee and talked softly to one another so as not to wake us men.

When she saw me, Cynthia got up and gave me a kiss on the cheek. After bidding me a good morning, she went over to the counter and poured me a cup of coffee. My wife knew exactly how much cream and sugar I liked in my morning cup of joe, and she made it perfectly. I gave her a peck on the cheek – I had not yet brushed my teeth – and told her how much I loved her. She smiled, kissed me on the forehead and sat down beside me.

I was on my second cup of coffee before Walter came out of their bedroom and started down the stairs. He remarked on how well he slept the previous night. The beds were indeed unbelievably comfortable, and it was so quiet and serene.

Walter and I cooked breakfast as the four of us discussed what we would like to spend the day doing. Margaret suggested we stay in today. We did have the cabin for two weeks. I thought we should go outside today, and use tomorrow as a day to get warmed back up. After everyone shared their input, we decided to take a walk through the long grove of trees that surrounded most of the property. Under those tall evergreens, we did not need to worry about the snow being too deep. I imagine that was the reason for the specific design in the first place.

It was cold, and the wind was eerily calm. Snow continued to fall lightly, but we all adorned adequate clothing to protect us from the elements. It was nice not to have the wind blowing on us, but there seemed something spooky about it. Perhaps it was only the feeling of seclusion of being so far from any electronic devices and cell phones. I was not used to being off the grid and not having my phone when I needed it.

Initially I thought the trail between the evergreen trees would take a regular circular path around the cabin. Once we got to the trail and started walking, we found it contained many curves, some subtle and some rather sharp. In a few places we made right turns, only to find the trail turned back to its previous direction not more than a hundred feet ahead. I wanted to see down the length of the trail as the beautiful snow found its way between the treetops. Instead, I found at any given point we could see no more than two hundred feet before us.

Walter made a remark that he would like to see this walking path from a helicopter. I was in agreement. I wondered if the pathway formed a specific shape of some sort, or if this design was chosen for other reasons. We all found it a bit odd, almost like the gardener planting the trees was absolutely inebriated at the time.

This was one of the reasons I did not like being without my computer. I could look at detailed satellite images of the grounds if I had it with me. I would have to settle with looking at the specific shape of the tree lined walking path after my vacation was over.

It took us nearly two hours to complete the walk around the entire trail, and we were all more than ready to drink something hot in front of a roaring fire. I jumped, and Cynthia nearly crushed my hand when a high-pitched shriek pierced through the still air, followed by a thunderous cracking sound. We all remained silent for at least a minute as we looked around for what could cause such a haunting sound.

Finally, I broke the silence by asking if anyone knew what that was. It was a rhetorical question, as I knew they had no more an idea of what it was than I did. I suggested the high-pitched shriek may have come from a bird of some sort, a screech owl perhaps. That still left the question of the giant cracking sound. Eventually we managed to console ourselves with the idea the bird let out a screech immediately before a large tree fell over and cracked.

I don’t think any of us really believed that, but it was enough to make us feel at ease. This idea seemed plausible enough. Even if it was not an owl and a tree, there must be dozens of things that could explain the noises. It could be something as simple as a loud bird causing a small avalanche in the loose snow somewhere.

After getting changed, I got some milk heating for hot cocoa while Walter moved the two couches closer to the fireplace in the main room. I made four hot mugs of the chocolatey drink and carried them over to the others. Once I gave the other couple their cups, I gave Cynthia hers, slid the tray under the couch, and joined her under a plush blanket. None of us said anything for a little while. We all sipped our drinks and stared at the fire.

I pointed out the fire was burning down, so I got up to get some more firewood. Walter offered to help, and we got a large stack of wood inside in no time. I flattened out the coals a bit and added more fuel. It popped and cracked a lot, so I closed the screen around the fireplace to help protect the building from being burned.

It was only a few hours after noon, but this time of year the sun would be down in only a few more hours. Once we were all warmed back up, we decided to find a game we would all like to play out of the large selection provided. It was not hard to find one out of all of them available that we all liked. Everyone else got the table ready as I heated up more milk for some cocoa.

It was snowing outside rather hard by the time I got our drinks to the table. The sun was not fully set, but the snow obscured enough light to make it dark outside. I discovered a large, fully stocked freezer, so halfway through our game I threw a frozen lasagna in the oven.

Following dinner, my wife and I retreated to our room. I did not care if there was no one else around for miles, I closed both the blinds and curtains to obscure the large window that made up most of the north wall. Tonight, we were both in a romantic mood, and unlike the previous night when we went to bed and went right to sleep, we were well rested and had plenty of energy.

I turned around to find Cynthia lying naked in the large bed. She hit me with a seductive glare, gave me a long look at her perky breasts, then pulled the plush comforter over her body. I would prefer to make love to her above the covers, but it was a bit cold in our room. I let the wood fire burn out and did not light the gas burners before we went out on our walk, so the temperature was a little below comfortable.

I quickly slipped off my clothes and climbed under the comforter. Pulling my wife close, I began gently kissing her neck. The bed was so incredibly comfortable, I think it made the experience that much better. Being in such a luxurious place surrounded by a winter wonderland probably did its part as well. We were still newlyweds, and our sex life was great, but tonight we achieved a whole new level of ecstasy.

When we met, we were both regular smokers. We made a vow to one another that we would give up cigarettes before we got married, which we did successfully. The one time that we did allow ourselves a single cigarette was for after lovemaking like we experienced tonight. Both of us got in our soft, white bathrobes and took a seat by the window. I opened the curtains and blinds enough to get the window cracked open a bit. Sitting by the cold window so as not to smell up the whole room, we smoked our cigarettes as we looked at each other flirtingly. We were halfway done smoking when it happened.

A loud screech, just like the one we heard earlier in the day, tore through the quiet winter night. It was so loud, Cynthia and I jumped away from the window. I couldn’t tell how far away it was, but it sounded very close. I could not even say from which direction the terrifying screech came. All I could say is it was loud and sudden.

Less than a minute later, there was a hard, rapid knock at our door. It was Walter and Margret. The door was all the way across the room, so I hollered for them to come in. They entered with panic-stricken faces. Walter asked in between heavy breaths if we heard the noise, and I told him we most assuredly did. I never saw Walter acting quite like this, like a terrified little child wanting in the safety of mommy and daddy’s bed. That was when he informed me the noise came from right outside their room. They had the glass door open to allow in some fresh air when the thing cried out in the darkness. They hastily closed and locked the door, then came straight to our room.

I continued to suggest it was a screech owl. I heard them before. They were surprisingly loud, but they really did not sound like this. Perhaps it was another subspecies of owl. It was very hard to describe, as it sounded like nothing I ever heard before.

I went downstairs and made us some decaf coffee to drink as we allowed our nerves to settle. All four of us sat in my and Cynthia’s room for well over an hour before we all started to get sleepy. Margret and Walter were too scared to go back and sleep in their room. Instead, I helped Walter pull the two couches together face to face and Cynthia got them some pillows and blankets from one of the oversized closets.

Cynthia and I both had our concealed carry permits, and we each set our pistols on the end tables so they could be ready at a moment’s notice. Walter retrieved a short barrel shotgun that was stored downstairs with multiple other hunting firearms, loaded it with three shells and set several more in the chair he pulled close to the couches.

Nothing else strange happened during the night, but none of us got much sleep. After a quick breakfast, our friends retired to their room and we to ours. Exhausted and with our bellies full, it was not difficult to get back to sleep. My wife and I slept well past noon, and our friends did not get up until an hour after that.

The snow was falling heavily, so we stayed inside and played a few games. Margret made us some cocktails as we had fun in the warmth of being inside. We played games, talked and had a few drinks. None of us mentioned the subject of what happened last night. I think everyone was waiting for someone else to bring it up.

Two more nights passed and nothing out of the ordinary happened. We heard no strange screeching throughout the night. The only thing we heard was the wind as it picked up speed during the evenings. Everyone was finally getting past the fear at night of whatever could be making such a horrific sound.

On the fifth day, the air was still, the sun was shining some, and the temperature was one degree below freezing. It seemed like a nice winter day, so we opted to do some cross-country skiing. We really did not get to see much of the grounds from our oddly crafted walking trail, therefore we thought this would be a better way to see the beauty of the estate. Given recent events, we thought it wise not to leave ourselves unprotected.

Cynthia and I both carried the pistols we always carried. In addition to that, Walter had the shotgun, the wives had two smaller rifles, and I carried over my shoulder a high-powered deer hunting rifle. All four of us had training in firearms and were aware of all the protocols and safety measures, so we felt confident in our ability to use the guns properly if it was ever necessary. I did not know what we expected to encounter, but what if anything it was, we would be ready.

The grounds the firm owned were vast indeed. The cabin in which we stayed was at the top of a gently sloping mountain. Once past the walkway of trees, the land opened up to a wide plane with a gradual slope. Far up ahead, judging by the way the trees fell below the horizon, it looked like the terrain might drop. Our other options were through a forest to the left or toward a frozen lake to our right. We decided to come back to the lake later with our skates, leaving the long trek toward the drop off as our final option.

The sun was shining brightly which almost felt like a heat lamp against our dark clothing. There was virtually no wind to speak of, and the freshly fallen snow was smooth and beginning to pack. The surface was perfect for today’s activity. I joked that we looked like a bunch of yeti hunters dressed like we were, all of us packing heat. We seemed like something out of a cheesy horror flick. I guess no one else found the humor in that, as I was the only one to laugh at my joke.

I regretted my little jest after I saw the looks on the faces of my wife and the others. It was several nights ago we last heard that horrible screech, but my joke apparently brought it back to the forefront of everyone’s minds. I felt bad as it seemed I ruined everyone’s good time. No one said anything for the next thirty minutes. Instead, we all kept a close eye on our surroundings. We intentionally stayed out in the wide open when we started today’s adventure so as to avoid any places from which something might surprise us. Even that did not stop us from keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary.

Walter finally broke the silence when he pointed out the treetops appearing from behind the increasing slope. We continued on until we could see the grade of the hill increase much more abruptly. By the look of it, if we continued much further, we would find ourselves going down a steep hill into a forest. All of us agreed this would be a good point at which to turn back toward the cabin.

The conversation finally resumed as we followed our tracks through the snow back to the warm cabin. Everyone was careful to avoid the subject of the screeching or of anything eluding as to what the sound might be. We almost sounded like two unfamiliar couples in a waiting room talking to pass the time without really saying much at all.

I began making a batch of chili shortly after our return. I thought that would be something hot and heavy, good for returning from being out in the cold. As I got our meal started, Margret selected a bottle of red wine from a fully stocked cellar. After a minute of struggling with the corkscrew, she finally popped the cork and poured each of us a glass. We were on our second glass before everyone began to loosen up again. By the time dinner was ready, we were almost finished with our second bottle.

Following another bottle of wine with our meal, we were all giddy and laughing after we finished eating. We were all rather weary from the day’s exercise, and the wine and heavy meal did all but knock us out. It was still rather early, but we retired to our rooms anyway. Cynthia and I shared a nice hot shower together before climbing into the large comfortable bed for the night.

It snowed most of the next day, so we all decided this would be a good time to stay in the warmth of the cabin and enjoy the luxuries inside. Most of the day we spent reading, talking or staring at the roaring fireplace. We started to play a board game at one point but did not get far into it before we grew bored with it. Quite frankly, we all had a bit too much to drink last night and playing a game did not set well with the moderate hangovers to which we awoke.

The next morning everyone woke up feeling refreshed and well rested. The sky was nice and clear, and we thought this would be the perfect day for going ice skating out on the frozen lake. We did not get a very good view of it when we were on our cross country hike a few days ago, but it looked like it was a rather large lake. We gathered our skates, dressed in layers to keep us warm, donned our snow shoes and started off toward the location of today’s recreation.

The lake was a little farther away than we estimated, and it took us nearly forty-five minutes to reach it. It was indeed quite large. There was a nice small area rather free of snow that we reached first, but the lake itself extended a hundred yards before making a turn into a forest. None of us was any sort of professional skater, so this small area closest to the cabin was just right for us.

We had fun playing around on the ice for several hours before we realized how worn out we were. Playing tag on the ice was most enjoyable and made us feel like little kids again, but we expended a lot more energy than we realized. We got out of our skates, into our snowshoes and headed back to the cabin. The walk back seemed twice as long as the walk here because our legs were exhausted from overdoing it with the skating.

We were still five minutes from the cabin when we heard that unholy shriek rip through the still air like a jagged blade. All of us dropped what we were carrying and readied our firearms. This time I could tell the sound came from the direction of the lake. If I were to guess I would say it probably came from the forest that partially encircled the larger part of the lake. It did not sound like it came from the area we just left. The haunting screech sounded much further away than that.

The four of us stood with our weapons ready scanning the horizon for anything, anything at all out of the ordinary. I could not say how long we stood like that, but eventually Walter told Margret and Cynthia to go inside. My wife began to put up a protest, but when I agreed with Walter, both women went into the house.

We again attempted to speculate what could be causing such a terrifying noise, but neither of us had a clue what it could be. This was louder than any owl I ever heard, and it did not sound like any other form of natural wildlife either. This is when we began to wonder if we were dealing with something outside of the natural, something supernatural.

My friend and I decided that was enough. We had some fun while we were out here, but it was not worth the terror this thing was causing us just to stay for another week. We decided we would leave for home in the morning, not wanting to attempt that drive in the dark. Several feet of snow fell since our arrival a week ago, so we knew the road was going to be worse than before.

The ladies were waiting in the small sitting area immediately inside the front doors. We no sooner entered the cabin when our wives informed us, they had enough fun and were ready to return home. I was glad we were all on the same page with this one.

The third bedroom of the cabin had two queen sized beds, rather than a single king sized like the other two bedrooms. We decided to sleep in there tonight. We did not get any privacy to speak of, but we all felt more comfortable in a room together than separated by a thick wooden wall. We had every firearm in the house in the room with us, including our own personal handguns. If something natural or unnatural tried to get us, we would put up a hell of a fight.

It was around two in the morning when we were awoken by the deafening sound of metal twisting. It did not last long, but it was astonishingly loud. Walter and I each threw on a jacket, picked up a shotgun and went running down the stairs. I handed Cynthia my pistol before getting out of the bed.

When we got to the front door, neither one of us could believe our eyes. The heavy-duty pickup truck we used to drive up to this cursed place was tossed over and nearly standing on its end. The frame of the vehicle was twisted from front to back. Something, this screeching thing, not only had the strength to lift the truck, it warped the frame as easily as a child might twist a lump of clay.

Suddenly the guns we had in our hands felt absolutely useless. Anything that could do such damage to a large and sturdy vehicle like that would probably not even notice a blast from one of these shotguns. We silently watched out through the wall of windows for I could not say how long. I do not know how much longer we would continue to stand there and scan the snow outside, but one of our wives made the “psst” noise at us from above.

That snapped us out of our temporary state of shock. Walter and I ran back up the stairs and told our wives to gather up as many blankets and pillows as they could and get them to the basement. Walter helped me gather up all of our firearms and ammunition which we carried down as we remained alert and protective of the women.

I told them just to toss the bedding to the first floor and we could gather it from there. It would take too many trips up and down the stairs to get everything, and I did not want to waste any more time than we absolutely had to waste. Walter checked the gun cabinets and gathered up all the ammunition he could as I helped Cynthia and Margret get the bedding tossed down into the basement.

I had them help me gather up what food and water we could. The three of us met Walter at the base of the stairs. After closing the door behind us, Walter and I began to look for anything heavy and sturdy we could use to barricade the door, not like that really even mattered.

I asked Cynthia to take an inventory of our food supplies while Walter and I separated the ammunition for the individual weapons.

Margret began trembling and flailing her hands, then started screaming “What is it? What is it?” over and over.

Walter jumped to his feet and took her in his arms tightly. It was at this point I realized we never told them what we saw outside. Instead, we had them start gathering supplies and hiding in the basement.

Margret was now crying on Walter’s shoulder, and I told her we still did not know what it was. We never saw anything. I hesitated before I told them about the truck.

“But, but, but how are we g-going to get out of here-er?” Margret asked through her sobs.

I did not know. I was flat and honest with her and told her that I did not know. The snowfall over the last week surely filled back in the path we plowed through the snow on our way up here. We knew the ways behind the cabin either led to a forest, an impassable decline, or the lake encircled by another forest. Without our truck, the only way we were going to get out of here was on skis or snowshoes.

It was cold down in the basement, but we did find several kerosene space heaters. The blankets and pillows helped a lot. Unfortunately, we were in bed sleeping when this happened. I at least wore boxers and an undershirt with the jacket I threw on. Walter did not even have on the shirt. Our wives wore robes, with nothing but under garments on beneath them. We went from total comfort to huddling together for heat.

We stayed down there for a little over an hour and did not hear anything else. Now that we had a little time to calm down, I told Walter and Margret to try to get a few more hours sleep. I would wake them up later and take a few hours for Cynthia and I to sleep. We would try to figure out what we were going to do then.

Margret, exhausted from crying and nestled in her husband’s arms fell back to sleep rather quickly; although, I was not sure if Walter ever went to sleep himself. He laid there with his eyes closed holding his wife, but I never heard him snore or anything else to indicate he was sleeping.

When it came turn for my wife and I to take a chance at a few more hours of sleep, we had no difficulty dozing off. We finally warmed up wrapped in a comforter and several blankets. The stress and anxiety of the last few hours took its toll on us and we were out in no time.

When Walter finally woke us up, it was almost eight in the morning. He told us they heard nothing unusual during their time of keeping watch for the group. I really hoped that meant whatever this thing was, was gone. I hoped that, but I did not believe it. Each time this thing revealed itself, it did so with significant time gaps. This told me whatever the screeching thing was, it resided here in these mountains. Perhaps it lived exclusively in this area.

Having left all of our clothes upstairs, we began to search the large basement for something to put on to keep us warm. Walking around wrapped in blankets was not cutting it. We had to find some better way of keeping warm or we would not live long enough to figure out how to escape.

Margret found a heap of clothing behind one of the many wine racks which occupied the basement. It seemed odd that, in a house so well kept and organized as this one, there would be a heap of clothes thrown in a back corner like this. We did not take too much time pondering the discovery of the clothes before we started putting on everything that fit.

I was slipping on a pair of insulated snow-pants when I felt something inside one of the pockets. Reaching in, I pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook. It was not much bigger than two by three inches in dimension, and probably only fifty pages thick. I flipped through the pages quickly and saw it was about two thirds full. The writing was small, but not too small so as to be difficult to read. It looked like someone was trying to fit as much information inside the tiny booklet as they could.

As the others continued to try to put on as much clothing as they could, I began reading the first few pages of the notebook. The author was a guest at this cabin along with five others with whom he worked. All of their names were listed and the author indicated who was married or otherwise in a relationship with another of the guests.

Their trip started much like our own. They were awarded two weeks at this cabin for the exemplary work they performed at the company with which they were employed. The name of the company was not listed, so I did not know if it was the same firm for which Walter and I both worked.

The author described the screeching with which we were far too familiar beginning on the third day of their trip. It was clear they were every bit as afraid of that sound as we were. This group was unable to flee because the vehicle they arrived in could not get through the snow that fell over the course of their first three days here.

When scouting possible escape routes, the group discovered the same thing we did. It was impossible to go down the steep slope, and the forest and lake areas provided too much concealment for whatever was stalking us. We were unaware of this until now, but there were sheer rock faces on either side of the road leading up here according to this notebook. If that was the case, we would not be going down that way either. Our only hope was to either take the road that brought us here, flee into the forest or try to make it out of here on the icy lake.

At the top of the third page was the date. This entry was made January 12, 1964. That was nearly sixty years ago.

I continued reading the notes and my blood ran cold when I reached page six. Here the author describes the first casualty. No one saw what happened. They all heard the terrifying screeching noise and a crash. The next thing they knew one of their members was gone, but his clothes remained behind. Suddenly I realized we were probably wearing clothes people died in. I kept this bit of information to myself.

Two days later came the second death. This time three of the survivors saw what happened. The deep snow erupted directly behind one of the vacationers. The author described it as jellyfish like, but with three wings spaced equally around the body. The author went on to explain it had more of an elongated shape rather than being round like a jellyfish. Its body was transparent and was an almost sky-blue color. The creature engulfed the unfortunate man. The thing began to vibrate until it reached a certain resonance. At this time a deafening screech radiated from the thing. The man it engulfed quickly dissolved and became a part of the blue mass.

I tried not to show my distress, but Cynthia could definitely tell something was wrong. I could not hide the fact this disturbed me deeply. She asked me what it was, but I told her to please let me finish reading it and I would explain it to them.

One by one the vacationers were consumed by this massive creature. Then, out of the blue, the author mentions a book he found out in one of the storage sheds when he was looking for something to provide some heat. The book was hundreds of years old, but talked about the exact kinds of things happening. It described a creature from beyond the stars that, with many other super powerful beings, made Earth their home millions of years ago. The only way to keep these demi-gods appeased was to feed them, to offer them sacrifices.

That’s what we were. We were nothing but sacrifices the firm sent out here. I could not fathom what the situation with the firm was. I began to speculate it was nothing more than a cover, a front for some dark and secret group or fraternal order. I worked my tail off for them, and they rewarded me by using me by sending me off to my death.

I told the others what I read in the notebook. Very hesitantly I explained how the people in this other group died. I really felt I should keep that information to myself, but Walter, Margret and Cynthia had a right to know what we were up against. I did not want to scare them any more than they already were, but they needed to know what we were facing.

Gathering together our weapons seemed pointless after this new revelation, but we gathered them anyway and filled our pockets with the corresponding ammunition. The author of the little notebook never said anything about guns, so they may not have even tried using firearms against this thing.

There was only one way we thought we might get off this mountain and away from this eons-old beast not of this world. We were going to have to use the cross-country skis and go back down the road that brought us up here. There simply appeared there was no other way we were getting down from this mountain. We loaded several backpacks with food and bottled water before leaving behind the protection of the cabin.

Cynthia and Margret got their first look at the truck when we stepped outside. Walter and I got our first good look at it in the clear light of the morning. It stood on its back end with the twisted look of a licorice whip. The thought of facing something that could take a two-ton truck and do this was more than overwhelming. Walter tried keeping our wives’ attention focused on something else, anything but the twisted wreckage.

I got the chills, and not from the cold, when we passed through the pathway of trees we walked during our first day here. Now I could not help but wonder if the odd shape of that trail created an occult symbol of sorts. Something deep inside of me told me walking that path was what started this all for us.

For the most part the descent was gradual and easy to manage. There were some parts that made us put our weapons around our shoulders and use our ski-poles to keep our balance as we transverse steeper, more difficult terrain.

We seemed to be making good time. I estimated we traveled slightly over ten miles in the first two hours. I was not sure how long this private road was, but I was sure we would make it out to the farmers’ road long before nightfall. That at least appeared to have regular traffic, and it was our hope we could find someone to drive us away from this place.

Shortly after that, everyone stopped and glanced around at everyone else in a panic. We all felt the low-humming vibration in our feet and legs. I think we all knew exactly what was about to happen. The biggest question on my mind at this precise moment was, who was it going to happen to.

The snow behind Walter erupted like a geyser. The rest of us were petrified the instant we saw what it was. The horrific thing had a body shaped more like an ear of corn. It had two wings pointing to the top and two wings pointing to the bottom of its body. Rather than flapping, the gelatinous wings flowed like membranes in the water. Its transparent, icy-blue body was horrendously beautiful and ungodly terrifying.

The gelatinous body unfurled and opened up creating what looked like a giant maw twenty feet in diameter. The top of the giant mouth had what resembled needle-like teeth about an inch in length, but the closer to the center of the body the maw got, the longer the teeth became. The thorny teeth again reduced in size as they reached the bottom of the mouth. Moving so fast, we did not even have time to think, the widespread maw wrapped around and engulfed Walter.

The loose snow began to dance at the surface as the vibrations began to build. The creature’s body began to ripple as it built up power. Suddenly a screech so loud it literally threw us to the ground came from the monstrous thing. I looked up in time to see the look of terror on Walter’s face before his body dissolved and became part of the blue mass. A few seconds later it expelled his clothing, guns and anything that was not human flesh. In less than two seconds, it flew thirty feet into the air, then reversed course and plunged directly into the snow.

Margret began to scream. She could not get up because of the way she fell, so she began to frantically start unlatching her skis. I kept telling her not to do that. I told her I was coming to help. Without the skis to distribute her weight, there was a good chance she could fall down into the deep snow. Before Margret removed both her skis, Cynthia reached her. Cynthia helped Margret get her other ski back on and helped her stand.

As fast as she could, as fast as all of us could, we shuffled along the snowy surface until we reached where all of Walter’s possessions were discarded. Margret dropped to her knees in tears. We all watched this thing consume Walter in a matter of seconds. I was so terrified; it was hard to think. I could not believe we watched this thing from another world digest my best friend and spit his belongings back onto the ground.

Cynthia and I allowed Margret a couple of minutes to mourn, but we knew we had to keep going if we were ever going to escape this thing. My wife shook Margret by the shoulders a few times to try to get her to come out of the state of shock she was in after watching her husband melt away inside the unholy thing. When that did not work, Cynthia gave her a few gentle slaps on the cheek. This was enough to rouse Margret from her shock and grief sufficiently enough to get her to listen.

Margret did not want to leave, and I explained there was absolutely nothing she could do for Walter now except to survive. I had to get Margret to understand her husband would not want her to die like he did. This thing could be lurking about anywhere as it appeared to have the ability to move through the snow unhindered. Perhaps it used those strange membranous wings to pull itself through the deeply packed snow.

This was when I noticed the spot from where it emerged and again disappeared below the surface appeared completely undisturbed. If it were not for my friend’s belongings lying on the ground, I would not believe anything was ever there, that anything ever happened. It did not make sense how something that large could burst forth from then dive back into the snow and leave no trace of it ever being there.

As I stared at the apparently untouched snow, Cynthia motioned for me to come help her with Margret. We grabbed her under the arm and lifted her to a standing position. I took her by the chin and told her she had to come with us. I was not going to leave her behind to freeze to death, or worse. I did not know if she was hearing me, so I said it again then asked if she understood. Feebly she nodded her head. I picked up Walter’s wedding ring and placed it in Margret’s hand. She took one last look at his things scattered on the ground and we were once again headed down the slowly sloping, snow-covered road.

A couple of hours later we rounded a bend and I could see where the trees lining the road widened into a field. This must mean we were close to the farm area we passed on the way in. Surely the people here could help us. They somehow managed to live and work so incredibly close to this unholy thing but not be subjected to its hunger.

We picked up the pace a bit when we saw this in an attempt to get off the firm’s property up here in the mountains. All we had to do now was find a farmhouse close by and we believed we would be safe. In twenty more minutes, we arrived where the forest opened up for what we thought was a field. Standing there, our shoulders drooping from desperation, we could not believe what we saw. The three of us stood there at the edge of a frozen lake.

We passed no such lake on our way in, and we certainly did not pass any turnoffs on our way back down. This had to be the way we came in, but the fences lining the farms were not present. The snowy road simply ended as it reached the frozen water’s edge. Turning around was not an option. It would take us forever to hike back up that long sloping road in cross-country skis. We could possibly make our way across the surface of the lake, but we always faced the threat of the ice cracking and giving way underneath us. Our third option was to stay on land, and work our way around the lake staying as close to the edge as we could.

This turned out to be much more difficult a task than anticipated, so we chose to move across the lake. Staying fairly close to the land where the ice was the most solid, we tried to make our trek as straight of one as we could. A straighter route meant a quicker journey. At this point we had no idea of where we were going, but the quicker we got away from that cabin and its surrounding land, the better.

It began to snow on us as we rounded a large bend. We had to take a small detour around what I first thought was a six-foot-tall mound of snow. When we got a little closer, I saw it was in fact a circular stack of large ice chunks. It looked like something burst out of the center of the ring throwing huge pieces of ice out of its way. By the look of it, it happened more than once. I wondered if this could be the crashing sound we heard, but that came from the other side of the firm’s property.

The sun was getting close to setting, and we could see lights up ahead. We finally found one of the farm houses out here. I never felt such a sense of relief as I did when I spotted that domicile off in the distance.

It was thoroughly dark by the time we reached the other end of the lake, and none of us brought a flashlight with us. Even our cell phones were in the twisted wreck that was once our truck. We reached the edge of the lake, and we had probably twenty more minutes before we reached the house with its illuminated windows.

Margret then Cynthia began to sob, and I lost my last glimmer of hope of making it out of this situation. The falling snow obscured our view of the house too much until now when we were about ten or twelve minutes away. It could not be possible. I felt like I was going to vomit. We approached a nice log cabin with a glass wall along one side, and a twisted pick-up truck out in front. We traveled downhill in one direction, but here we were standing in front of the cabin in which we stayed for a week.

Was it possible this whole estate was a prison with no way out?

The whole time in our attempt to escape, we dropped lower and lower in elevation, so this should not be possible. It was as if when we reached one end of the property, we ended up at the opposite side. This place was circular and I truly felt at this point there was going to be no escape. There would only be hiding in fear until death came one way or another.

When the ground began to vibrate deeply, all three of us knew what was about to happen next. Cynthia was leading the way, I was following the rear, and Margret was in the center. Knowing it would do us no good, we still tried to pick up our pace. Suddenly the ground erupted in front of my wife and there was that ice blue gelatinous pillar; its wings flowing in the air with a fluid rippling motion that was almost hypnotic.

The creature began to unfurl its body, and before I knew it Margret leapt forward and knocked Cynthia to the ground. The ancient beast engulfed Margret with its massive maw and drew her into its body. It began to vibrate, but it never let out the horrible shriek. Instead, it released a low hum before spitting out our friend’s belongings. This time it did not immediately plunge back into the snow. It hovered in place, released a large, colorless, crystal onto the ground. Only then did it dive back into the deep snow.

I rushed over to Cynthia as fast as I could and helped her back to her feet. Tears ran down her red cheeks, freezing when they hit the rim of her hood. I really did not know what to say to her other than to hurry and get back inside the cabin. This thing always seemed to attack outside. Perhaps if we stayed inside long enough, we could wait out the snow. It was my last hope that this thing would not be mobile once the ground thawed.

We were no more than twenty feet away from the door of the cabin. Cynthia was in front and I stayed as closely as I could behind her when the creature burst from the snow. My wife turned back to me with a look I never before saw on her face. It was a look of sorrow, despair and hopelessness. She told me she loved me and to get in the cabin as quickly as I could before she lunged toward the beast. It unfurled its maw and drew Cynthia into its body in an instant.

I screamed in horror as the thing let out a low hum before totally dissolving my wife’s body right there in front of my eyes. As it dropped another large, teardrop shaped crystal to the ground, I tried to leap at the thing. The unearthly being dove back into the snow before I could reach it, leaving everything my wife carried behind.

I dropped to my knees and sobbed. I could not believe Cynthia was gone. Removing my gloves, I picked up my wife’s wedding band and slid it onto my left pinky adjacent to my own ring. For how long I sat there crying, I could not say. It felt like hours, but it could be minutes. Eventually I stood back up and made it the last ten feet to the door.

I stood inside the entrance room staring out the window until the sun began to rise. All I could think about was that look on Cynthia’s face the moment before she gave herself to that thing. She sacrificed herself so I could make it to the cabin.

That was it. I finally understood. I retrieved the small notebook I found in this jacket. It did not take me long to find a pen, and I sat down and began to write.

Starting with the date, I explained quickly what happened to my friends and eventually to my wife.

‘Leave now, if it is not already too late. If that thing has you trapped in this frozen hell, it is going to get you eventually. I know that is not what you want to hear, but it is the truth. You were sent here as a sacrifice to this being by the firm. I do not know who they really are, and why they offer sacrifices to this eons old creature. All I can tell you is this. It is not enough for the thing to feed on those brought here. The sacrifice must be willing.

‘I believe the firm wants the crystal produced when the creature feeds on willing sacrifices. If you heard the unholy beast’s screech, you are probably already trapped. I offer you this advice. Offer yourselves willingly to this thing. Perhaps if the firm obtains enough of these crystals, it will not need to send as many people here to die.

‘I leave this notebook where I hope you find it, but hope those from the firm do not. Add to it anything you discover in your own dealings with the beast. Now, I go to join my wife and friends.

‘May God save your souls from that demon from the icy lake.’

Copyright 2022 ©

The Village

Word Count: 5,282

The heavy rain pounded hard on my poncho, which did rather little to keep me dry. I did not bother to check the weather before deciding to go on a hike alone this morning. The sun was shining beautifully and there was not a single cloud in the sky when I left my house. I happened to have a cheap drugstore poncho in my backpack I purchased some time ago. The plastic was quite thin and flaws in the seals allowed the cold water to seep in leaving me with cold wet spots. 

I found a rather sizable nook at the base of the trunk of an impressively large tree which helped keep some of the pounding rain off of me. I crouched down so the meager plastic barrier would help keep my feet from getting soaked, which turned out to be a futile endeavor. I kept by back up against the tree trunk to somewhat help keep the rain off of me. Watching the downpour wash sticks and leaves on the ground in developing water flows, I wondered how long this was going to last. 

I parked my car and started my hike just after eight o’clock in the morning. I was making good time when the wind suddenly began to blow cold. Right then I should have turned around, but I ignored the warning and continued my hike. The wind only blew for a half hour or less, but the clouds closed in on me quickly. I saw no lightening, so I did not worry. That was a terrible miscalculation. 

For two hours I sat there hunkered down in that flimsy rain barrier waiting for the pounding torrent to stop. Finally, it began to let up. It continued to rain a little, but at least the worst of it seemed to pass. I got back up and started to head back to the trail when I realized I was not sure what direction it was. The downpour moved the stick and leaves covering the ground and obscured the already faint trail I followed to get here. 

Without the sun shining in the sky, I was not sure which direction was which. I did not bother bringing a compass along because I was always rather adept at finding my way guided by the sun. I was not expecting bad weather and not being able to accurately locate the sun. 

I wished I took one of the more widely used trails around here, those were more heavily worn and easiest to spot, but I wanted to be off the heavily beaten path. There was a lot more privacy in the less frequently used trails, but there was also a lot smaller a chance of encountering help if necessary. A big problem was these smaller trails, many of them animal trails, were that they were a lot less obvious, especially after a rainstorm like that. I thought I remembered finding the nook in the tree after I approached it, so I was somewhat confident I knew which direction to go. 

As the light rain continued to fall, the cold snap that came right before the storm finally passed. The weather was still dreary, but at least it was not quite so chilly. It was bad enough all I had was this cheap plastic garment to keep me dry, or fail to keep me dry. Being wet made being cold so much worse. I hoped the warm air meant the rain was going to stop, but I was sadly disappointed. 

The rain continued to fall, although very lightly, as I tried to figure my way back to my car. I walked for more than an hour and came to an area where the trail divided in the center of three large hills. I began to panic a bit when I saw this. I know I passed nothing like this on the way in. I walked for more than an hour in a wrong direction. I would have to turn around and try to backtrack to my previous location. Luckily, I kicked around some small piles of sticks and leaves as I walked, just for something to do, and it was rather easy to trace my way back to a point. 

This is when I encountered another unfortunate obstacle, I was almost halfway back when I reached an area hit with a flow of water after I passed. My markers of stirred up sticks and leaves were gone. I was really beginning to regret the idea of going out for a nature walk. I am not a super experienced hiker, but I spent my share of time in the wilderness. I should know to check the weather before I set out on a trip like this, especially when I was going all by myself. 

I was not sure what time it was, but it had to be getting late. Either the cloud cover was growing heavier or the sun was close to setting. Neither one was a good sign. I walked much slower now, looking for something I might recognize. Finally, I felt a sense of relief. I spotted the tree under which I hid from the initial downpour. With a little more pep back in my stride, I made my way over to the tree. I was sure I could figure out the right direction back to my starting point now. 

My heart nearly stopped when I got close enough to the tree to realize it was the wrong one. I slouched forward in despair and held myself up with my hands on my knees. I began to tremble. I don’t know if it was because of the cold, exhaustion or anxiety, but my hands and shoulders were trembling. 

The rain became nothing but a light drizzle, so I removed my backpack from under my poncho and tossed it against the tree. I had no idea what I was going to do. I looked around with a bit of desperation for the tree I thought I found, but I saw no other trees with trunks this large. By now I lost track of how much time I was walking. It was going to be dark soon. This was supposed to be a relaxing couple of hours of hiking around a new area. I wasn’t supposed to get lost. I am a fairly experienced woodsman. I should be able to find my way back to my nice, dry, comfortable car. 

I stood back up, took a few deep breaths and did a few stretches. I had to calm myself down so I could make it out of these forested hills and back to civilization before dark. I did not want to get caught out here, I really did not want to get caught out here after dark. I only had one small flashlight with me. I did not plan on being out this long so I did not bring either one of my good, heavy-duty flashlights. If I had to guess, I would say the little one I had would last for an hour, maybe two before it went dead. The clouds were still heavy overhead, so even if it was a full moon tonight, I would still be in absolute darkness. 

Gathering my wits about me, I tried to think. I spent plenty of time in the woods during my life. Certainly, I could find my way back out. I just had to think. I tried to come up with something that would help. Then I realized, when I was following that first trail, I wound between the hills, I did not walk up or down any of them. That gave me a good start. I looked around and took note of the location of the nearby hills. After thinking about it for a few minutes, I decided there could only be one of two ways to get back to where I was parked. 

The rain stopped, so I had that going for me. It appeared the heavy cloud cover was going nowhere any time soon. Removing the plastic poncho, I shook as much water off as I could and wadded it up in my hand. Throwing my backpack over one shoulder, I began walking. There were two possible routes back to my starting point as far as I could figure. I chose the one of which I was most sure and started along my way. 

About an hour after setting off this last time, the day grew late and the light grew dim. Getting lost in the woods at night was not something I wanted to do, especially since it was cold and wet. If it got too dark, my best bet would be to wait until morning to find my way out. That would mean being outside in hiking clothes and shoes both still wet throughout the cold night without any dry ground upon which to sleep. That was not an option I wanted to have to take. 

I soon realized I had no idea where I was going. Nothing looked familiar. I could be walking around in circles at this point for all I knew. I was about to let my body slump to the ground when I spotted a glimmer of hope. I might be going the wrong way, but deep through the woods I could see the light of multiple windows. I might not have found my car, but I did find civilization after all. 

The lights were far off in the distance, and less than an hour after spotting them it was absolutely dark. I used the windows to keep my direction and walked slowly and carefully. After nearly tripping and falling on my face, I got out the little flashlight I had and used it to help me avoid dangerous obstacles. It was only bright enough to shine immediately in front of my feet, but it was better than nothing. Even with this, it took me an hour to near the sources of light. 

I was not sure how many houses there were, but I could make out at least five. It looked like I found a small neighborhood set back in the woods a bit for privacy and seclusion. I probably wasn’t far from a major highway at all since the people who lived here had to get to the stores. Perhaps someone here could give me a ride back to my car, so I could get home and take a well desired hot shower. 

My flashlight died on me only moments before I saw two figures emerge from between two of the buildings. I was close now, and if my light were working, they would no doubt have seen me. One of them carried a lantern, an antique oil lantern. Both of the men were dressed in outdated garments. One appeared to be wearing clothing from the colonial era, and the other man’s clothes were reminiscent of the garments of the 1920’s. I immediately found this quite odd and kept quiet until the two men disappeared between two other buildings. Something did not seem right here at all, so I decided I should be stealthy and use caution until I knew where I was and what was going on. 

I walked toe to heel to help soften the sounds of my footfalls and made my way to the closest building. This building was clearly a home. I could see through the kitchen window. It appeared to have all of the modern conveniences. There was a toaster, a refrigerator and even a microwave. 

Cautiously I made my way to the end of the building, to the gap where the two men emerged not long ago. I was confused when I saw the second house up close. It was an old cedar log cabin which appeared to be a design used three or four hundred years ago. I crept over to the building, looking around the whole time to make sure I was not seen, and made my way over to the nearest window. Looking inside I was baffled at what I saw. 

Instead of the modern appliances in the first house, this house had only candles, oil lanterns, a fireplace and a wood burning stove. Why would two houses so close to one another be in such vastly different conditions? 

Keeping a close watch around me, I moved between the buildings to the old gravel road running in front of the houses. More houses awaited me on the other side of the road. Judging by what I was able to see so far, this strange village was built in a circular pattern. The homes were staggered, so I could not see more than one row of houses deeper into the buildings. I think this was by design. It prevented me from looking far in any one direction. I estimated by the size there must be four or five rings of buildings in this creepy hamlet. 

I watched and waited for ten or fifteen minutes before I made a sprint for the gap between two of the houses on the other side of the gravel road. My heart raced as I ducked behind one of the buildings. After allowing myself a few moments to catch my breath, I peeked around the corner to see if I was spotted. It appeared I was again lucky as I saw no one else out on the street, and the curtains to most of the homes were pulled closed. 

I came up to the back of a Victorian style home – none of these homes appeared to be from the same era – when I heard the most horrific scream shatter the cold quite air of the small town. The screaming continued, sending shivers through my body and making my stomach feel ill, for nearly ten minutes. I never heard such cries of pain in my life. The people of this strange town must be torturing someone. I wanted to run, I wanted to get away to safety as soon as possible, but the good person in me could not allow me to go off and abandon those who really needed my help. 

It sounded like the anguished scream came from the opposite side of the village. I would have to make my way through the center of town to get there. I was already too deep into the cluster of homes to go out and go around. When I finally came to a place between two houses, a ranch house and a Tudor home, I saw what was in the center. 

Initially I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me in the dark. In the center of the town there appeared to be a very deep hole about fifty feet in diameter. I could not see well from my current hiding position, but it looked like the hole was encircled by large black stones cut level with the ground. I wanted to get a closer look at that hole, but there simply was nowhere to hide close to the pit. There appeared to be something carved into the stones, but I could not see it from any hiding spot. No buildings, wagons, cars or anything else was any closer than the inner ring of buildings. 

I watched three people exit from a house a couple of buildings from where I hid. Two of them appeared to wear clothes from the modern day, but the third person instead wore furs and the heavy clothes of a mountain man. He had a full, thick beard and his hair was very unkempt. An old hatchet and a single fire pistol hung from his belt. 

As the three of them headed in the direction of the village opposite of me, I heard another one of those bone chilling, agonized screams pierce through the darkness. I jumped from the fright, and prayed no one saw me.  I watched the three as they disappeared between some of the structures  on the other side of the hole, headed in the direction of those tortured cries. 

I was not about to go out in the open to cross near the hole, so I slowly worked my way from between one set of buildings and another. I took great care to make sure no one saw me skulking about their strange little town. I was even beginning to wonder if I was actually sleeping at the base of some tree right now having a horrible nightmare. I wish I could think that, but I knew this was far too real to be any sort of dream. 

Another horrible cry of agony echoed through the night. This time it lasted longer and sounded even more tortured, if that was possible, than the screams before. Possibly a minute later a strange glowing red mist passed between the houses and sucked into the stone-rimmed hole like water through a drinking straw. I so desperately wanted to flee for my life, but I could not live with myself if I did not try to help this person or people from whatever cruelty was being enacted upon them. 

I was about to move out from behind a large bush that was doing a good job of concealing me when I heard some voices. I waited where I was as I watched four individuals pass me and disappear between two buildings of the outer ring. I did not catch much of what was said as they walked by. One of them said something about “gifts for thee who protects…” and that was all I got. 

Two more small groups of people passed the same way. I could only assume they were headed to the same place. I watched and waited for a few more minutes, then quietly and staying in the dark, I followed them to their clandestine location. I watched some people enter what really looked like nothing more than a barn. I heard screaming again, screaming of someone being tortured. There was no doubt it came from that barn. Luckily there was a window on the side of the barn next to some farming utensils. I quickly made my way over there and took a look inside. 

I came in low and rose up slowly to get a look at what was happening in the building. As soon as I saw what was taking place I dropped to the ground and vomited. I tried to make as little sound as possible, but after what I just saw I could not help myself. Certainly I made a mistake. Surely there could not be people who would perform such awful rituals. 

After composing myself, I decided to once again look inside the window. This time I had much more of an idea of what to expect. A wave of fear washed over me as I gazed upon the scene inside the barn. In the center of the building was a six-foot-tall pyramid that appeared to be made of sunstone. On each side of it stood two obelisks that, if I were to have to guess, I would say looked like white and dark speckled blue lapis lazuli. On one side of these objects all but one person stood. Another man dressed in black ceremonial robe stood on the other. What he stood by was what made me feel fear like I did not know fear could be. 

Two tables reminiscent of the racks used in the days of the Spanish crusades stood propped up slightly toward the crowd of townspeople. On one table was chained a man. On the other table there was chained a woman. Both of them were stripped bare naked. That was not what made it so horrific. That was not even close. 

The man looked as if his belly was cut open surgically. The skin pulled tight and was pinned to the table, leaving his entrails completely exposed. Several feet of his small intestines were pulled from his body and hung down between his feet. The man in the black robe, using a ceremonial knife he held, cut out a large piece of the man’s liver. The man screamed in pain like nothing I ever heard before. By all rights he should be dead, but instead he remained alive just so he could be tortured. 

The man in the black robes tortured his male prisoner for what seemed like forever, but was really probably closer to three or four minutes. When he stopped, he stepped back and held his hands up high and called out “The Old Gods abandoned this world, left us helpless. The New Gods found us naked and afraid. The New Gods protected us and gave us unending life. We must feed the one who protects us.” The last sentence he yelled out strong. 

As the tortured man continued to scream, a red glow rose from his body and absorbed into the sunstone pyramid centered in the barn. Seconds later red mist rose from the tops of the obelisks and formed something of a red gaseous sphere directly over the pyramid. There it hovered as the people in the barn began to chant something I could not understand. The faintly glowing mist then drifted through the closed barn door and directly towards the large, stone-ringed pit. 

The female captive appeared to either be asleep, drugged, in shock or something. Her eyes were slightly opened, but she did not move or do anything as they tortured the man in front of her. I had no idea if the two of them were together, or if they were strangers to each other. The idea suddenly struck me that these two may be unfortunate victims who wandered into this horrible place like I did. I almost went into a panic and ran. I think fear was the only thing holding me in place. If they were captured by the villagers, then there was a distinct possibility I could be too. 

Braving it again, I rose back up to observe what was happening. The person in the black robe walked back to stand in front of the naked man. Holding the blade high in the air, he said something again about “feeding thee who protects.” He reached down and took the suffering man’s hand in his own. Then he proceeded to slice the joints of his fingers, one at a time. He cut the joints from the palm side of the hand, but he left each remaining attached by a flap of skin. 

The man screamed and begged for them to please go ahead and kill him. The crowd laughed at his pleas, mocking him as if this were some sort of game to them. The poor guy continued to scream in pain as his torturer then played with his dangling fingers like he was playing with wind chimes. I could not imagine the pain the man felt as I watched the scene unfolding and listened to his agonized screams. 

The robed figure tortured the other until that red energy left the man and entered the pyramid in front of me. Five times I watched the pyramid absorb the man’s agony and turn it into some kind of mist. Each time the mist passed through the closed barn doors and proceeded to the stone ringed pit in the center of town. 

I don’t know how that unfortunate man was not dead already. His wounds were more than enough to kill a normal man. Something else that seemed unnatural about this was the tortured man shed no blood. As much as he was cut, as much as the robed man mutilated him, he did not bleed. That made no sense. I could not fathom why he did not bleed out and how he could possibly still be living after all this. 

After the man in black cut loose all the joints in the man’s fingers and toes, he turned the racks upon which the victims were chained. He adjusted the tables so they were facing each other. With the man still screaming in pain, he walked over to the woman and made a shallow cut down her chest bone and between her breasts. I guess this broke the spell or whatever they had on her, because she began to panic and feebly try to pull herself free. 

She started to trembling, her lips quivering as she looked at the mangled man across from her. She was bawling and saying things like “No, no, no…” Several times she said the man’s name and told him she loved him. I assumed at this point they were married, or a couple somehow. I so desperately wanted to go help them, but there was nothing I could do. I am not doctor. I could not put that man back together so that he would live. If these people caught me, I might be the next one feeding “the one who protects.” 

The man in the black robes, the master of the ceremony, the high priest or whatever he was retrieved two long skewers from the fireplace and approached the woman with a sadistic grin on his face. He took the first skewer and drove it from her side all the way through her left breast. Smoke rose from the sizzling flesh. She screamed in horrendous pain, which eventually became the red mist feeding that thing in the pit. Acting with a dark sense of glee, he took the other nearly red-hot skewer and, starting over her chest bone he drove it through her breast until it came out the other side. She continued to scream and cry as the crowd laughed at her agony. 

As the skewers sizzled inside the woman’s flesh, he removed a long iron poker from the fire. The end glowed red from the heat of the fireplace coals. The woman’s lips and cheeks quivered as the robed man approached her with the searing hot rod. She begged and pleaded with him not to do whatever he was about to do. She prayed to God for salvation, but none came.  He stood in front of her and reached out between her legs with the red-hot iron poker. 

I could not watch what was going to happen next. I dropped back toward the ground. I covered my ears and closed my eyes tightly as I heard the blood curdling cries of that poor woman. If I was not going to help, and I did not see any way that I could, then it was probably best if I snuck back out of this place and got somewhere safer. I had to get the authorities out here and put a stop to this madness. 

My legs were rather numb and my knees hurt from squatting down for as long as I did. I had to stand there for a minute and work the stiffness out of them before I could flee. When I was ready to make my escape, I began to move towards the woods. Before they saw me, I saw a group of four or five people – it was difficult to tell how many people in this darkness – walking in my direction. I was going to have to make my escape the same way I came in. I was going to have to go back through the rings of homes. 

Slipping around the nearest building before the group arrived was easy, and I continued to move from one hiding spot to another. More alert than I ever was prior to this in my life, I kept a careful watch for anyone who might spot me. I knew getting caught would probably bring about the same torture for me as that ill-fated couple. I was not going to let them get me and feed my pain to whatever unholy thing was in that pit, this thing they called one of the New Gods and “the one who protects.” 

I could not say how long it took me to sneak out of and away from that cursed place. The screams of the man and woman still pierced out in the night, over and over. It tore at my soul that there was nothing I could do for them. I left them being tortured, apparently unable to die. I wondered if I could live with myself for not doing something to help. I simply saw no way I could though. I would get the authorities and have this place taken apart. 

I made my way through the forest as quickly as I could. By sunrise I finally reached a road. I did not know where the road led, but I was absolutely elated to finally find something besides more woods. I was ecstatic after I followed the road for an hour or so, and I located the parking area where I left my car. 

I sped my way into town and went straight to the police department. My tires screeched as I abruptly stopped in a parking space. I barely had the keys turned off before I was climbing out of my car and racing inside. Two officers sat at a long desk that stretched from one wall to the other. Behind them, sitting a little higher was the Police Captain. I ran over to them and somewhat collapsed on the desk. I was too excited, and I was beginning to hyperventilate. 

The two officers at ground level came from behind the wooden desk to try to help me calm down. One of them grabbed a small brown paper bag and had me breathe into it. Eventually I managed to calm down enough to tell them what happened. 

I explained to them everything I experienced. From the time I got lost, the time I spent in that horrible place, and what I saw when I was there. I began to explain how I got away when the captain stopped me. 

“You punk kids come in here ever year with stories of this ‘magical village’ that no one has ever been able to find,” he barked at me as he walked out from behind his desk. “I am sick of you college punks trying to play pranks on the police. You really think that shit’s funny, pranking the police. I should lock you up for filing a false report.” 

I assured him I was telling the truth, but all that did was make him angrier. He gave me one last warning, then he was going to lock me up. I wanted to try to make him understand. People are dying in the most horrible ways, and no one was doing anything to stop them. 

Exhausted, I finally left the station and got back in my car. I did not know what to do. I felt like I had to do something, but I could not take on that whole town. People were going to continue suffering the fate of the couple I watched being tortured, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. If I could not get the authorities to help, there was nothing more I could do. 

I started my car and began heading home. The screams of that couple still remained clear in my mind. I watched them suffer, hearing their anguished cries, then watching those objects turn their pain into food for whatever being from the nether world that lived in that pit. I had to live the rest of my life knowing people were going to continue to be made captive, and eventually tortured with unnatural methods. I had to live the rest of my life wondering what dark, evil thing was living inside that pit in the center of the village. 

Copyright 2022 ©

Dead Man’s Switch

Word Count: 9,512

Early in the morning of May 4, 2011, I awoke from my sleep screaming in terror. This was a common occurrence and a constant nuisance in my life. My psychiatrist called them night terrors. Nightmares plagued my slumber, and nothing seemed to help. The doctor prescribed me a range of mental health medications, but the night terrors continued. I awoke two or three times a week drenched in sweat and trembling from head to toe. 

I never woke with any memories of my dreams, and I was not sure if that was a good or a bad thing. If my dreams were so bad I awoke screaming for my life, I do not think I would want to recall them. On the other hand, if I knew what my dreams were about, I might be able to do something about them. 

My doctor made a suggestion he said might help. Per his instructions, I kept a notebook by my bed. Each morning when I awoke, I would immediately write down any details I remembered. Dr. Cooper would go through these with me during our sessions in an attempt to discover the underlying cause of my nightmares. 

My sleep disorder began to affect my studies. I had problems focusing in class and concentrating on my homework. I never had any energy, but I was afraid of going to sleep. Coffee helped some, but it gave me the jitters. I did not even have the desire to go out with my friends. 

My parents paid for me a small apartment off of campus. They lived with my night terrors for years, and they knew no roommate could live with them. It was something I kept from my friends. It was a secret, a secret I was crazy, and I told none of my college friends or classmates. 

Years of medication and psychotherapy failed to provide any positive results. By my junior year in college, I accepted the fact I would deal with this for the rest of my life. Even when I had a girlfriend, I would always go home to sleep. I never let anyone stay overnight at my place, for obvious reasons, and I never stayed over with anyone else. A lot of girls took this as an insult causing me to be something of a sexual outcast. 

Only one more week of finals remained, then I had a small break before the summer session began. So long as I could make it through four summer classes, I would graduate one semester early. The only major thing I really had left was my internship. I would take care of that during the fall session. 

I was working on my degree in computer science, and I planned to work as an I.T. specialist after graduation. Until I was offered the internship, I never heard of the company making the offer. It was some informational technology corporation called NEMV. 

Their office was located in one of the larger buildings in Nashville, Tennessee. Apparently, they were large enough to have their own floor in one of the high-rise buildings. I hoped I would get an office with a window, if I got an office at all.

During my summer sessions, I spent less and less time with others. People I knew since childhood no longer wanted to have anything to do with me. Even those I grew up with since we were babies did their best to avoid contact with me. I became an outcast and an oddity, and the rumors began to circulate about me. 

I heard whispers that I joined some kind of satanic cult. Other rumors said I dabbled in witchcraft. Even others said I was going insane. No one ever said anything to my face about my drastic change in personality. Everything being said was said behind closed doors or in hushed whispers of gathered students. 

I knew when people talked about me because they would suddenly grow quite whenever I passed by. Even some of my instructions appeared to go out of the way to avoid being alone with me in the same room at the same time. Every time I met one of them for any number of reasons, they always avoided having it take place enclosed office or study room. 

Depression set in and I became very paranoid. That was probably from a lack of sleep more than anything. One of my professors even suggested I see one of the school therapists. It was obvious people began to worry about what I might do. I guess they thought I was going to go on a killing spree or something. I was not angry. I did not want anyone to get hurt. All I really wanted was to be left alone. 

I never had any energy, and I was sleepy all of the time. I would try to nap during the day in hopes shorter sleeping sessions would lessen the chance for the night terrors. I was wrong. I experienced the nightmares no matter how long or short I slept. This sleep disorder took its toll on every aspect of my life. Even my parents, who lived with my sleeping disorder since I was a toddler, began to worry about me. If I could not do something soon to stop these horrific dreams, I would surely go mad. 

Even after years of trying to write my dreams down when I awoke in the morning, there was only one thing I ever remembered. I always remembered a presence, a darkness of sorts, like an ominous sinister presence. 

Over time, I came to the belief that this thing that so frequently haunted my dreams was something more than a figment of my imagination. I finally concluded that this thing was something real, something alive that tormented me as I slept. 

I did not reveal my deduction to my doctor or to anyone else. Surely, if I tried to convince others that the tormentor of my dreams was a living entity, they would think I went insane. The authorities, if not my family, would have me hospitalized where I would probably spend the rest of my life. 

When I was fifteen years of age, I did spend some time in a mental hospital. Knowing what to expect, I could not let myself become a lab rat locked up for the remainder of my days. Doctors and other professionals would study me and publish papers on what they learned about my disorder. No way was I going to let myself become a test subject for a bunch of head shrinkers. 

One night I could not get to sleep. I left my apartment and began walking. Buried in my thoughts, I paid no attention to where I went. I walked for several hours, and by the time I paid attention to my surroundings I had no idea where I was. 

I found hope, a small glimmer of optimism that my nightmare would someday end when I noticed the entrance to what I assumed was a Buddhist temple. I do not know what compelled me, but I felt somehow these people would be able to help me. 

The monks inside seemed to be engaged in some form of meditation as I entered the building. Their chanting brought a peace to my heart like I have never known. I waited, just inside the doorway for more than an hour before their ceremony came to an end. I had no idea what I should do. I was raised a Protestant and knew nothing about this peaceful religion. 

An elderly Asian man of some advanced years approached me. I stood nervously as he slowly shuffled his way over to me. His short strides made the short walk across the floor into an epic journey. When he finally reached me, he bowed his bald head to me in respect. I followed suit and reciprocated his humble gesture. 

He again stood upright, supporting himself with an intricately carved staff. The details of the engravings were astounding. It had to have been made by someone who dedicated his entire life to that one craft. Something about the wood from which it was made did not seem normal. The rings from the tree ran at an angle rather than horizontally. This meant that someone cut the staff diagonally from a massive tree. The rings were in such close proximity with one another, it was obvious it came from an ancient tree, a tree that did not have to compete for sunlight. 

I waited until the wrinkled old man stood upright before I did so myself. Being fully ignorant of the etiquette and customs of these people, I thought the best way to go about things was in the same manner as they. I did not want to come across as being rude, so I tried to be as respectful as possible. 

Without saying a word, the venerable monk brushed the back of his soft hand against the side of my head. A smile spread across his face, and I felt like he found joy in my pain. He then turned away from me and bid me to follow him. Everyone else in the temple was in their bare feet, so I removed the shoes from my own feet before proceeding. 

It took this old man forever to make his way across the floor, and I grew very impatient. When my patients finally wore out, I opened my mouth to say something. I probably would have said something rude. 

As if anticipating my actions, the old man stopped in his tracks. Turning his head back toward me, he pressed his index finger against his lips. He knew I was about to speak and stopped me before I got that far. I knew this was a very wise man, a very wise man indeed. 

Trying to calm myself, I followed the man into a chamber in the back of the temple. It was a beautifully adorned room. Silken banners in red and orange hung from the top of the walls, falling a few inches short of the floor. In the center of the room stood an iron candleholder set in layers forming the unmistakable shape of a pyramid. I knew absolutely nothing about the customs and traditions of these monks, but I still felt like this ornament was very out of place. 

The venerable man stood quietly with his eyes closed. I was tempted to take a seat on one of the orange silken pillows that littered the floor, then I thought about Mom’s “not for sitting on” furniture. I decided it best that I continued to stand. The old monk must have been testing my patients because we stood there for close to an hour. 

I was just about ready to give up and walk out. Like he anticipated my thoughts, a younger monk entered the room. Taking his place by his elder, the new arrival bowed and began to speak. 

“The Master greets you to his temple,” the younger man said. It was as if he were speaking the thoughts of the old man. 

“You are a very unsettled man,” he stated observantly. “There is a pathway along life’s great journey that can lead you to the solace you seek.” 

With these words, the old man smiled and nodded his head toward me. 

“Can-can you make my nightmares stop?” I asked in desperation. 

The old man put his hand on the shoulder of his younger companion. As he did, the younger man said, “The only way to stop one’s dreams is to stop one’s life.” 

I could not believe what I heard. These were supposed to be peaceful, kind, and caring people. If I understood correctly, the monk was telling me to end my life. Did they want me to commit suicide? Like he said, the only way to stop one’s dreams is to stop one’s life. 

The old man shook his head as the other said, “You must learn to defeat your dreams, not end them. Your shoulders bear a heavy burden, be it of your own creation or not.” 

The old man waved his palm parallel to the floor. Nodding his head yet again, the old man signaled for the young man to continue. 

“Your answer will take you on a long journey. You will find what you seek in the land now called Arizona.” 

These men were being awful specific in their observations. It was like they already knew everything about me. That was an impossibility as I only entered the temple several hours ago. The old man then shuffled slowly out of the room. With him gone, the younger monk said no more. I tried to get him to clarify these cryptic answers. 

“Only the Master knows,” he said. “Study this room and it will give you your answers.” 

I became so frustrated, I could scream. I thought I would find peace here, but instead I found only more annoyance. Anger right then only served to stack on top of my fear of sleep. I was only standing in a room with silken banners of red and orange with a scattering of pillows on the floor. The only thing that really seemed to be any kind of a clue was the pyramidal candle stand in the center of the room. 

I walked a circle around the dark-iron stand being careful not to disturb any of the pillows on the floor. Nothing especially notable was to be found on the stand of light. I knew that these priests did not bring me in here just to jerk me around. They had a reason. My task now was to figure out what that reason was. I repeated that young monk’s last statement in my head over and over. 

With these cryptic words burned into my mind, I once again began to walk around what must have been an altar. This time, I did not pay attention to the candles. Instead, I watched the rest of the room as I moved. The flickering candle light fell on one stack of pillows in such a way it appeared to be the opening of a cave. It occurred to me then that the stand was not the clue. The clues were the images created by the light from that stand. 

With each step, I would stop and examine the room for anything else that might have been a sign for me. Instead of stepping over the pillows, I began to move around them. The frustration and anger I felt only minutes prior began to change to joy. As the room revealed more and more of its secrets, hope began to fill my heart. I think I was looking at a map. As I moved around the room, I began to see what looked like landmarks. 

I studied the room for hours. The longer I stayed in there, the more obvious the clues became. The sudden realization of how much time passed struck me. Finding my way back to the main chamber, I headed back through the door and into the street. I had finals in about six hours, and I had no sleep at all. I knew the few hours I could sleep would do me more harm than good. It was best I just stayed awake. 

Instead, I took a peaceful walk around the campus. I never realized how beautiful the grounds were. It struck me as quite magnificent. Some of the older buildings crawled with ivy, and the newest buildings were architectural works of art. Most of the time I spent at the university, I spent in class. When I was not on campus, I was in my small lonely apartment. I watched the sun rise in the east which illuminated the clouds with the most beautiful oranges and reds I ever saw. Despite my lack of sleep, I felt rested and free. 

With my mind free and clear, I did very well on the last of my finals. No demon plagued my dreams for three nights straight. It was not that very often that I had such peace during my slumber. I could not help but believe those monks somehow helped me with my terrorizing nightmares. Perhaps some prayer they raised up was heard by some higher being. Whatever the reason, I could not be more thankful for the rest. 

With my finals finished, I had a whole week off before my first summer session began. I sat in my apartment playing a game when the email icon popped up on my smart phone. I started to ignore it, but finally decided to check it. It was a good thing that I did because it was something miraculous. 

The email came from the human resources director at the closest NEVM office building. The email offered me the opportunity for a paid summer internship, in Arizona. The company was setting up a new office, and they wanted me to design their computer network system. 

I called the number from the email first thing in the morning. If I took the internship, the company offered to set up and pay for the following fall semester. In addition, the internship offered me six credit hours. This was too obvious a sign, so by no means would I turn it down. I would receive another email in a day or two with all of the arrangements. 

To my despair, my night terrors returned that very night. I awoke just before sunrise screaming and dripping with my sweat. My eyes darted around the room as if I were going to find something tangible, something unspeakable skulking in my room. As with every other morning like this, I found nothing that did not belong. 

I climbed out of bed and shook the dark thoughts from my head. I hit the floor and got dressed in my nicest clothing. I planned to return to the temple to thank the monks for their help. This time, I made sure I put on my whitest socks. I knew I would be removing my shoes when I entered the building. 

I wandered around for hours. I was sure I remembered where the place was, but an old run-down house occupied the address. Assuming I must be off by a street or two, I began to look for the temple. I walked all through the area for hours and found nothing like what I sought. I stopped one man out mowing his yard and asked him if he knew where I could find the place. 

The man seemed quite offended by my question. 

“We aint’ got no devil churches around here boy, just good Christian folk,” the man snapped. “You want to learn karate you better take yer butt to China.” 

I withdrew from the man like a frightened child. He seemed to be very serious about his statement. I was not about to argue, and I was not going to correct the cultural mistakes of his statement. I crossed to the other side of the street and quickly walked out of view of the racist old man, although that did not deter me from my search. I continued to walk the sidewalks of the community hoping to again find that peaceful sanctuary. I walked until blisters stung my feet. Finally, I removed the chafing shoes and made the painful walk to my apartment. 

The only explanation I could fathom was I simply scoured the area on the wrong side of town. The temple was quite large, and I do not know how I could have missed it unless I was in the wrong place. I so wanted to thank them for their guidance, but when I got home an email awaited me. 

NEVM made all the arrangements and I was to leave in two days. A stipend deposited into my account so I could buy luggage and new clothing. The ticket was attached as a PDF document. There was a lot to do and very little time to do it. 

I did a bachelor clean-up of my apartment and hit the department store at the mall. I found a set of luggage that looked perfect. It made me think of the business men who worked with my father when I was only a child. I purchased some very nice professional clothing and some lavish travel accessories. I spent the most on a pair of shoes. Father always said you could tell a lot about a business man by the shine of his shoes. I bought the shoes and designed the rest of my new wardrobe around them. 

The morning of my flight, I woke covered in sweat and swinging my hands before my face as if fending off an attacker. This was the first time I ever awoke this violently, and unfortunately it would not be my last. I jumped out of the bed and hid behind my dresser. Something terrified me, and its presence was all but tangible. I knew something else was in the room with me. 

I remained frozen for several minutes. I grabbed a stick I kept beside my bed and slowly made my way across the room. Although I could not see anything, I could feel something watching me. It was not my imagination. Something was in the room with me. 

Then I noticed my shadow. The room was dim and the light came at me from several directions. Regardless my shadow remained perfectly formed. I virtually saw its eyes staring into mine. It was darkness absolute. Nothing hidden by it could be seen. The wall, books, and my bed were cloaked in complete darkness. It remained this way for ten minutes. 

A loud truck flew past my apartment building, and the roar jolted me into attention. When I looked back to the darkness, I found everything looked as it should. The inky blackness that stared at me with its demonic eyes was no longer there. For the first time, I got a clear glimpse at the horror that haunted my dreams. I stood there for a while waiting for the thing to return. 

Eventually, I came to my senses and rushed to finish packing my belongings. NEVM sent a car to take me to the airport, and I still had packing to do. I quickly threw on some clothes and stuffed everything I could into my luggage and rushed out the door. By the time I left my apartment, the car was already there for thirty minutes. I supposed he was in no hurry since driving was all he did. 

I never really looked at my plane ticket until I checked in at the airport. The company paid for me a first-class seat. I never flew first-class before. I could not wait to see what it was like. 

My twenty-second birthday passed a few months ago, and I was glad to be able to have a few drinks. The flight attendant offered me some Champaign. When I found out it came free with first-class, I probably drank more than I should. I rarely imbibed alcoholic beverages; I made the journey to intoxication quite rapidly. The attendant must have noticed because she stopped offering me drinks and offered me food instead. 

I was not sure what went on next, but before long I reclined in my chair with a pillow and drifted off to sleep. Dear God, why did they let me go to sleep? I cannot say with any kind of certainty how long I slept before my dreams began. In the subconscious world, time made its own rules; the boundaries of the physical universe had no place there. 

For the first time, I remained lucid as my nightmare unfolded. I found myself standing atop a massive stone pyramid. It made me think of the pyramids found in Peru, but no stairs led from the bottom to the top. Dense darkness surrounded me and made it impossible for me to see the bottom. The stone appeared freshly cut, not like the eroded stones that comprised the Mayan pyramids. I did not understand how I climbed to the top of the monument, but I suppose in the dream world that did not matter. I was up here and that was all that mattered. 

Directly overhead, a full moon beamed down bathing the pyramid with its cool light. The direct angle of the celestial orb created shadows on all sides of the pyramid dropping one tier to the next. Only the very edges of the lower tiers were visible. I thought I could make out the lowest tier of the stone construct, but the ground upon which it rested hid in absolute darkness. 

Several hundred yards away, encircling me in all directions stood a single large craggy cliff. The canyon walls rose to stand hundreds of feet above me. From where I stood, I saw no way down and no way out. 

I stood there for the boundless time that dreams provide growing evermore fearful as the minutes progressed. The moon remained in the same position as I stood there glowing in all of its glory. The orb, like everything else, obeyed no natural laws. Its size was massive appearing in the sky, as large as the sun. 

In time, the moon began to eclipse. This process seemed to be following the flow of normal time. Whatever blackened the moon, it was not the Earth. Something very high in the sky positioned itself between the moon and me. Something not from the natural world, something sinister, choked out the light above me. 

My heart raced, and my pulse throbbed in my wrists. The terror I felt this morning intensified tenfold. As the moon became progressively obscured, I began to hear sounds below me. I forced myself to look down to see what created the horrific sounds. 

Something crawled up the sides of the pyramid. At the rate they ascended, they would be upon me in minutes. I knew they would reach me as soon as the moon disappeared from sight. My body trembled as I hopelessly searched for an escape. I continued the futile effort as I began to hear the sounds of rock crashing upon rock. The walls of the canyon broke apart and crashed somewhere down in the abysmal darkness. 

I lost all hope. If the crumbling cliffs did not crush me, the things climbing the pyramid would. My desperation came to an end. I resigned myself to the fact that I would die and set my soul to ease. Everyone and everything has an end. If this was to be mine, then so be it. 

Just then I saw a flicker of pale blue light underneath my feet. Embedded in the surface was a massive sapphire. Out of it a light shone as a heavenly beacon. I knelt down to touch it, but I never made it that far. 

The things crawling up from below reached me before my hand touched the stone. I saw them rush upon me, and I realized what I was up against. I recognized the beings enveloping me. The first time that I can recall seeing one was this morning, but I knew it was they who haunted my dreams. That thing of darkness that followed me out of my dream, that thing that posed as my shadow came from this world. 

The hellish beings rushed over me with such force, they sent me flying. Clearing the edges of the pyramid, these unknown things grappled me tightly dragging me down into the infinite darkness. All I could do was scream. 

Light once again came into view. I opened my eyes to see two flight attendants gently shaking me awake. Swears flowed from my mouth and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I tried to jump out of my seat in an attempt to escape my terror. The two male attendants bore down on me tightly. I screamed. I told them to turn around. Instead, they grappled me to my seat. 

Behind the two men, posing as their shadows, were two perfectly formed figures of absolute darkness. I could discern no physical features with the exception of the eyes. Those red eyes with the orange pupils stared directly at me. I could see a smile in those eyes. The next moment, the two forms sank through the floor of the airplane and vanished. 

I continued to scream in a desperate attempt to be away from these hitchhikers from the dream world. As far as I knew, these things were still onboard the aircraft. I shouted for someone to search the plane, to make sure those things were gone. The two men holding me would not release their grip. The more I insisted we were not alone on this plane, the tighter their hold on me became. 

I knew my claims sounded outrageous and insane, but it was the truth. There was nothing I could do to make these airline employees believe something otherworldly was onboard with us. They would never believe my claims that something demonic followed me out of my dreams. I would not believe it if I did not witness it firsthand. Realizing it was a futile effort to try to make these people understand, I allowed myself to calm down. 

After a few minutes, I pushed the panic from my forethoughts and began doing as the two men said. Once they were sure I would not resume my struggles, they released their strong grip on me. I allowed them to explain what I already knew. One of them explained that I was sleeping when I began to scream. When he told me I was having a nightmare, I wondered if he was stupid or if he thought I was. Either way, I allowed him to talk as my eyes slowly scanned about the cabin. 

The shadow demons did not reappear again during the remainder of the flight. One female attendant offered me another drink to help me settle my nerves, but I assured her that I was fine now. I think it was the alcohol that made me doze off in the first place. I convinced her that I only experienced a terrible nightmare, but now I was okay. I almost expected there to be a team of orderlies waiting for me with a straight-jacket when we landed and disembarked from the plane. 

Instead, I found that NEMV already reserved me a car at one of the better rental places, but I still had too much alcohol in my blood to be driving. I took a cab to the nearest hotel where I spent the night. I went back in the morning to pick up my car if I could only get back to sleep. I did not really want to go to sleep, but my body was literally exhausted. Besides, the thought of going to sleep and encountering these things again terrified me; I had to get some rest. I needed to be clear minded before I drove across the desert tomorrow morning. 

The thought of again fighting with these dark entities horrified me so much that it made me sick to my stomach. I was sure the alcohol did not help this any. I could not get the image of their red and orange eyes out of my mind. That devilish gaze burned clearly into my memory. I already ushered at least three of these beings from the nether reaches of the dream world into the physical realm. Who knows how many of the things bridged the gap from one reality to the next over my two decades of night terrors? Every morning I awoke screaming from my unholy nightmares, I probably brought some of these things across with me every time. 

I managed to purge these thoughts from my mind long enough to drift off to sleep. Those shadows apparently left me alone, because I woke up the next morning feeling rested and refreshed. After a nice steamy shower, I called the front desk to summon me a taxi. By the time I packed up and made it to the lobby, the car was already waiting for me. 

I took my time checking out when the associate suggested I might want to hurry. When the cabs around here waited for five minutes for the passenger to arrive, they turned on the meter and began charging for the time. I did not really care. I still had plenty of travel funds left from my travel stipend. I would not begin this morning in a stressed hurry. I felt calm and at peace, and I would not let something as petty as a running meter ruin that for me. I had a long road ahead of me. 

Once I returned to the airport to pick up my rental, I stopped off at a truck stop to get me a Styrofoam cooler, ice, bottled water and some snacks. According to my GPS system, I was looking at a little more than a three-hour drive. My flight half of the way across the country took only a few minutes longer than that. The long lonely drive was not something I looked forward to, but my spirit lifted a little when I learned the vehicle had satellite radio. I knew way out in the middle of nowhere to where I was headed, it would be very difficult to impossible to pick up any broadcast radio stations. 

I drove for an hour and only passed another car every ten minutes or so. I passed neither homes nor any other structures, but I occasionally drove by a dirt road leading off of the main. Where those went, I did not care. My directions stated I was to stay on this road until I reached my destination. 

The red of the desert became seriously monotonous and began to grate on my nerves. I did find some of the geological formations very interesting. Ten minutes later I spotted a mesa that snapped my thoughts back to that Buddhist temple. The remains of this ancient volcanic rock possessed orange and red stripes that reminded me of the alternating curtains in that pyramid room of the monastery. 

Only a few miles further along the road, I saw an odd rock formation that was reminiscent of the first stack of pillows to which I took notice. Immediately after this wondrous formation, a dirt road to my left appeared to lead out that way. I could not say what, but something within me knew I should take this detour and head away from the main highway. 

Ignoring all logic, I turned onto the rough, red dirt road. It surprised me how well the car took the off-road drive. I would not think that a luxury car could handle the rough and uneven terrain. 

I realized the gas gauge indicated only half a tank remained, and I seriously considered turning around. So that I could determine my precise location, I activated the GPS aspect of my phone. The weather popped up on my phone on its own, and my blood ran cold. According to the weather app on my phone, tonight would be a clear night and a rare lunar eclipse was to take place. Checking my location, I found I was in the perfect area to experience the total eclipse. 

The memories of that dream with the step pyramid rushed back into my thoughts like a raging river. The thought of what I might find scared me so much, my body went rather numb. My thoughts were interrupted when I found a cave entrance framed with giant, flat stones. Whatever I was supposed to find, I knew I would find it in there. I grabbed my flashlight and four flares out of the trunk. I decided to take a first aid kit that was in the trunk with the flares. I might hurt myself in the darkness in the crust of the earth, so some supplies may come in handy. The last thing I grabbed were my three remaining bottles of water floating in the melted ice inside the cooler. 

When I packed my luggage, I thought to bring the book bag that I normally used for school. I do not know why, but something inside me told me I should take it along with me. Now I was glad that I did. I placed everything, with the exception of the flashlight into the satchel and threw it over my shoulders. With that done, I began the hike up to the mouth of the cave. I could not believe how closely it matched the pillow formations of that strange temple. 

I guess I misjudged the size of the rock outcropping encasing the cave opening because the walk took much longer than I expected. By the time I reached it, I saw the cavern yawned open nearly twenty feet in height. 

I paused for several minutes contemplating what horrors awaited me within. Perhaps I was to face something much worse than the red-eyed shadow demons that used me as a transport from the dream world to this one. The thought that I may never exit this place once I entered made me vomit. My head swam with the idea that this could very well be the last time I ever looked upon the yellow sun. This could be the last time that I felt the life-giving warmth of its rays. 

I swallowed my fear and mustered every bit of courage inside me. Holding my breath, I took my first step into the solid darkness. Twenty feet into the stone corridor, the light from the sun provided me with no more help. 

When I turned on the flashlight, I was both grateful and disappointed. The bulb glowed very brightly. This allowed me to see well, but it also meant the batteries were going to burn out that much faster. 

Looking at the smooth decline before me, I pressed on deeper into the earth. The cave seemed too straight and too consistent in size to be natural. When I eventually hit a plateau, I knew why. Underneath my feet, I saw the floor of the passageway comprised of tightly fitting red stones. What made it even more unsettling was the fact that the stones were not uniform in shape, yet a slip of tissue paper could not fit between the seams. I brushed my hand over the crimson cobblestones and found the floor to be so smooth I could not feel where one stone ended and the other stone began. 

It became obvious I was not in a cave; I was on a road. A long forgotten ancient people, for whatever reason, built this road which continued deeper and deeper into the ground. Once I passed the first landing, I saw more signs this cavern was in fact an ancient road. The road stretched so deep into the ground that the light from the flashlight saw no end. 

Occasionally I saw a small grotto carved into the walls. They were probably pull overs for people to rest as they ascended or descended the steep sloping road. When I reached the fourth landing, I made a shocking discovery. Initially I thought the darkness played tricks on my mind. Carved into the walls at each landing was a small grotto. All of them were empty. This one was not. 

It contained remnants of what must be a wagon. Metal made up a majority of the drawn vehicle. The wooden wheels rotted to dust as had any ropes or yokes that may have held the beasts to the vehicle. The alloy that made up a majority of the wagon did not resemble any metal I saw before now. It almost appeared to be glass filled with metal flakes or glitter. I tapped my flashlight against it and I did not hear the clink of glass; I heard the ping of metal upon metal. 

My skin burned with stinging goose bumps with what happened next. The metal began producing an illumination of its own. It started at the point where I hit the wagon and spread to cover its entire surface. In what must be the front of the wagon, I saw two skeletons I could not identify. By the looks of them, they must have been some form of beasts of burden. Their form was somewhat bovine in nature with several marked differences. The skulls belonged to animals that no longer walked the Earth today. The legs did not end in hooves like most of the beasts of burden of modern times. Instead, four large feet terminated in six long toes closely resembling thick finger bones. 

The more I examined the strange skeletons, the less recognizable they became. I never heard of such skeletons having ever been discovered. I think I would remember something as strange as these. I finished my minor in paleontology, but nothing in my studies prepared me for the arrangement of bones in front of me. 

The wagon faced toward the downward slope, so I assumed the riders must have been traveling deeper into the cavern rather than heading out. By the looks of the burden animals, I shuddered to think what the driver of the wagon looked like. No real reason existed for me to expect to see the ancient remains of the wagon’s driver, but the thought petrified me none-the-less. 

After drinking half a bottle of water, I resumed my hike deeper into the bowels of the earth. By my own estimate, I was at least five or six hundred feet below the level of the opening. I could not tell how much further the road stretched as the level plateaus obscured the section of the tunnel that followed. I traveled every bit of a mile or two and, according to the timepiece on my wrist; I was already close to my third hour underground. I worried my flashlight would not last much longer. 

Conserving my batteries became a major concern, so I decided to give it some rest. I popped a cap off of one of the four flares. I threw it as far down the tunnel as I could, and then I walked down behind it. I reached the next level section and tossed the flare further still. Unfortunately, I barely passed the grotto of the fifth level before the flare burned itself out. The problem I now face was whether or not to ignite another flare or to turn back on the bulb of my electric torch. 

The sun shining on the surface world would set soon if it did not already. No turns or cross roads presented themselves; I thought the road would never come to an end. The corridor appeared singular and unending. 

Another flare and two levels further, I spotted what had to be the remnants of the person who drove the wagon I found earlier. The clothing on the body remained, but even from a distance I could see the flesh long ago turned to dust. At first, fear prevented me from approaching any closer. If the wagon animals were so strange, I could not fathom what their owner would look like. I wanted to avoid approaching anywhere the time bleached bones, but if I was to proceed, I had no other choice than to pass by the remains. Regardless, it terrified me to think of what the bones would reveal. 

My batteries continued to drain as I stood there motionless. That thought alone pushed me forward. If a long journey still remained before me, I did not want to be left in absolute darkness. I wanted to flee. I wanted to run back to the surface. I did not want to proceed any further, but I already came this far. I had to know what awaited me at the bottom of the road. 

Cautiously, I approached the body as if I expected it to stand to greet me. When I drew close enough, I saw that no skull remained with the rest of the body. I suppose it fell free from the neck of the corpse and long ago rolled further into the earth. All of the remaining bones appeared intact. 

The skeleton was much taller than that of a human. It had six fingers on each hand, but only three toes on each foot. With the exception of a few marked differences, the bones appeared relatively human. One of the major differences was that the bones appeared bluish-black in color. I initially thought it was a result of extreme age. Upon closer inspection, I found something infinitely stranger. 

The color came from carbon fibers lacing on the inside and outside of the bones. So well were the fibers incorporated, no doubt in my mind existed the fibers were a natural part of this person. Such incredible intertwining could not be done this well after death. Something with a skeletal structure such as this would be difficult to impossible to damage by today’s standards. By the looks of it, this individual died from exhaustion, dehydration, or starvation. 

Even more unusual than the skeleton were the clothes holding the bones like a sack. They appeared to be made from a mineral fiber like asbestos or something similar. I moved the beam of the flashlight down the tunnel for a moment, and noticed something very abnormal. The clothing worn by this ancient humanoid proceeded to emit a light of its own. I do not know if the crystalline fabric trapped the rays of my flashlight or if it reacted to the light and now produced its own energy. 

I spent more time examining this eons-old corpse than I should. Once I finally went on my way, after drinking the rest of that bottle of water, I turned off my flashlight and sparked up another flare. I placed the empty bottle next to the wall. The burned-out flare lay on the path a mile or so back. In the case I never made it back to the surface, I left some indication of my passage into the earth. Perhaps one day someone will find these artifacts and know I was here. 

I tossed the flare further down the road and it moved slightly out of view. The burning flare rolled out of sight, probably because it rolled past another landing. Although it was not directly visible, the red light the flame produced was still in view. My eyes adjusted quickly to the decreased light, and it became much easier to see the walls, ceiling, and floors of the tunnel. 

I spotted a cylindrical object shortly after the next landing. From a distance, I could not make out what the object was. I assumed it must have been a container of some sort left by the beings that once used this road. When I drew closer, I realized I was looking at a skull. The skull was obviously not human. Just like the beasts of burden a level prior, the skull did not resemble anything I ever saw or heard of before in my life. 

The skull did not display the white bleached appearance of the bones of any normal being. Under the red light of the flare, the carbon fiber laced skull appeared to be solid black. My stomach churned, and I struggled to push the fear that flooded my heart and mind. Fighting my instinct to run, I quickly approached what remained of the head of that long dead being. 

Kneeling down, I picked up the skull and used the hissing red flare to illuminate its face. My eyes fell upon a face that was strangely familiar to me. The cylindrical skull with the elongated face was a spitting image of the megaliths of Easter Island. Those giant, timeless stone faces were obviously carved in the image of beings such as this one. 

Carefully I sat the skull back on the ground. I stood it up so that the fleshless face stared down the tunnel. I thought about the first flare and that plastic bottle I left behind. If someone did find these in the future, they would know that I was here, but they would have no idea of who I was. 

I removed my wallet from my back pocket. Next to the skull, I placed my driver’s license, several green bills of American money, and my wallet. Now, if anyone else did discover this pathway into the depths of the earth, they would know who I was and approximately when I was here. 

I took one last look at the time, and then I removed the battery from my watch. The hands of my time piece stopped ticking displaying the exact time I turned it off. By my estimate, the moon would begin to eclipse in another hour or so. Somehow, I knew I must reach the bottom of this road soon or the consequences would be dire. 

Quickly, I downed another bottle of water and dropped it to the floor. This third flare burned dimly and would be out within minutes. I struck the fourth flare and threw it down the road before me. I did not know how much longer this road was, so I increased my pace to a jog. I had no idea of how much road I had left in front of me, so I did not want to waste any time finding out. 

By this time, I walked every bit of five miles. Keeping in mind the rise over run equation for a slope, I was more than an half a mile underground. That was about the height of the canyon walls that appeared around me in my dreams. I knew I must be close to the bottom. 

At my increased pace, I covered much more distance in a shorter period of time. If my dreams were any indicator at all, I should reach the bottom very soon. As I trotted down the sloping tunnel, I picked up that last flare and continued to toss it to illuminate the road before me. 

With my flashlight in hand, I ran as fast as I could without falling. Instead of a sense of relief, a sense of accomplishment; when I finally reached the end of the road, I came to an abrupt halt. Petrified with fear, I saw the road opened up into an unsupported stone bridge. I saw no bottom, no ceiling, and no walls. The only thing within range of the beaming flashlight was that single stone bridge. 

When I finally approached, I saw the bridge carved from the very same bedrock stone as the subterranean road. It began just inside of the tunnel, one single long piece of stone leading me onward. The stone around the bridge was carved away, leaving only the path before which I stood. 

Swallowing my terror and ignoring the churning in my gullet. I ran; I ran two or three hundred feet and the bridge came to an abrupt end. With the span of the bridge to my back, I shined the flashlight over the edge. Tears welled up in my eyes as I observed tier after tier of twenty feet high levels stacked below me. I stood atop a giant stone step pyramid, the same pyramid from my dreams. 

I jolted and nearly crumpled to the ground when I began to hear the sound of rock crashing upon rock. I turned to flee, but the bridge was what created the noise. The bridge fell apart and crashed on the consecutive levels of the pyramid. As I watched my escape crumble to the floor, I heard the sound of stone cracking above me. The massive cavern around me was about to collapse and I was stuck at the top of the only structure in sight. If the domed earth above me fell in, I would be crushed under thousands of tons of rock. 

My tomb began to fall in on me and I could now see the bright cool light of the moon. The ceiling broke apart and crumbled into nothingness. It seemed whatever force drove me to this location prevented me from being pulverized underneath the collapsing cavern. Stone and dirt fell in directly above me, but before it reached only a hundred feet above me, it faded away like as many puffs of smoke. When the roar of the quaking bedrock above me, all that remained was a singular cliff a half mile high encircling me. 

The Earth began to move between the sun and the moon, but there were still a good ten minutes before the eclipse would be complete. Under the bluish light of the full moon, I saw much more of the structure upon which I stood. Level after level progressed into an unending darkness below, the pyramid rising out of a seeming abyss. On the lowest tier visible, I saw movement. 

A hoard of the dream shadows climbed out of the inky blackness below. It was exactly as in my dream. I watched that darkness that hitchhiked with me from my sleep climbing the ancient pyramid. Desperately I searched for some way to save myself as the formless red-eyed demons ascended the structure. The moon plunged into darkness as the Earth’s shadow obscured it from the life-giving sun. Panic so intense it made my blood sting whipped me into desperation. I wished I could remember something from my dream that gave me even the slightest glimmer of hope. 

A warm sensation washed over me when I saw a blue sapphire beneath my feet begin to glow. I stood baffled for a moment, and then I remembered the gemstone from my prophetic dreams. I reached down to touch the heavenly light, and a small alter rose out of the highest level of the pyramid. The sapphire rose in the small stone pillar until it was nearly even with my ribs. Reaching out with my left hand, I pressed my palm to the gleaming jewel. 

Suddenly, the tiers of the pyramid began to glow with an unearthly light. First the lowest level of the pyramid illuminated, and then each consecutive tier ignited with the mystical glow. My hair stood on end from the static now filling the air. With eight levels under me still to activate, I felt an intense heat begin to grow. With each successive tier filling with the holy energy, the static and temperature increased exponentially. 

As the levels illuminated, it tore the forms of the climbing demons asunder. The ethereal dream creatures were obviously no match for the energy produced by the pyramid. Unfortunately, the heat became more than I could bear, and I removed my hand from the blue sapphire switch. 

The light radiating from each tier of the stone structure instantly ceased. I watched as the red eyes of more of the intangible entities of darkness resumed their rush upward to me. Once again, I pressed the palm of my hand to the clear blue gem. Again, the pyramid started the initiation process. As before, the tiers of the ancient construct filled with energy one by one. Although I could see the lowest level of the pyramid, the ground around it seemed to swim in an inky blackness. Perhaps it stood upon no surface at all. Perhaps it rose through the earth from another world. 

As it did previously, the shadow beings were being eradicated by the radiating tiers of the pyramid. I could feel every atom in my body vibrating from the intense energy. With only four levels remaining cold inert stone, I noticed the hair falling from my head. Blisters appeared on my arms and I felt the rest of my skin burning from the heat. 

When only two tiers remained, my body was so weak I could barely remain standing. Sparks filled my eyes and my mind grew cloudy as the energy of the structure took its grueling toll on me. The pain was excruciating, and it took everything in me to hold my hand upon the blue stone. 

Finally, the tier upon which I stood flared up with the otherworldly energy. The radiation blinded me as fluid seeped from the charring blisters covering every inch of my skin. At my feet lay the hair that once covered my head and the soles of my shoes melted out from under me. My hand now began to show exposed bone and muscle tissue. Never did I imagine pain could ever reach this intensity. 

Throughout my life I suffered in terror. These shadow ones tormented me every time I slept, using me as their conduit into this world. It was an invasion, and I stopped it. 

My heart stopped and the flow of blood to my brain ceased. I met with my destiny. I saved the world and no one would ever know. I thwarted the invasion, they were coming to take back a world that once belonged to them, and all I had to do was keep my hand on that dead man’s switch. 

 Copyright 2019 ©

Myself

Word Count: 3,177

Infinitely more realities, alternate universes, or perhaps other dimensions some may say, exist than the human brain could possibly imagine. It boggles the mind trying to grasp the idea that there exists an infinite number of infinitely sized universes. Theoretical physicists were only beginning to scratch the surface in their understanding of the nature of reality. 

I wish I knew nothing. I wish I could be as ignorant as the rest of humanity. Others cannot see the things I can see, and I envied their blindness. Countless generations ago my ancestors were blessed with the knowledge of and ability to see these other worlds. They called it a blessing, but I called it a curse. 

When I slept, I did not dream. Instead, surreal visions of places unknown dominated my sleep. I saw hellish worlds, worlds of bliss and worlds very similar to my own. Each morning, as soon as I awoke, I recorded my visions in a ledger. I kept my ledger and a pencil on the night stand because I wanted to make sure I documented the perplexing visions before they faded from memory. 

Until I was thirteen years old, I could not see these other dimensions all the time. When I did, I had absolutely no control over what worlds would appear to me. It took years of practice to master my control over what I did and did not see. 

Some of the beings from these other dimensions overlapped my universe enough that they could slip through. Some of these beings intermingled with the Earth Terrans while others remained hidden. Certain beings wanted to cause harm to humanity, some were benevolent, and others remained completely indifferent. 

I was first able to see these other realities immediately upon reaching the age of six. It was this way with all the males in my biological family tree. Before my ability blossomed, one of my uncles mysteriously vanished; it was assumed he crossed the threshold of an alternate universe. We had a hell of a time convincing the authorities and my uncles’ acquaintances that nothing sorted occurred. Fortunately, his wife passed away prior to his disappearance, so there was no need to concoct a cover for his absence there. 

Such things occurred every so often with the men in my family. Sometimes one of us slipped through the boundaries between realities and became stranded, unable to return. When there was no wife involved, it made the disappearance much easier to cover up. Any sons understood because we all shared the gift. Daughters were another story. When daughters were involved, things became much more difficult to explain. A more elaborate ruse had to be concocted in such cases. 

Some of my bloodline thought it was their responsibility to police immigrants from one universe to another while others believed it was their place to rid our world of them altogether. Many chose to work with the aliens to our universe to the mutual benefit of both. Countless discoveries were made when the wiser men of our family used the knowledge gained from an alternative reality to make this world a better place for the natives. 

My father broke a long-held rule among the males; he chose to explain our fantastic gift to my mother. Initially things did not turn out well at all. Mother believed he was insane. She left and tried to take me away from him. Mother did not want me to hear, or God forbid believe father’s outlandish tales. I do not know how, but father somehow convinced my mom he was telling her the truth. I am glad because I would be lost when my second site began. 

I can remember that first glimpse through reality as if it happened yesterday. It was a beautiful early Autumn day. Father took the dog for a walk and insisted I come with them. We lived in a scattered community; thick forests congested the areas in between small clusters of homes. A trail worn from decades of use began in our backyard and continued on for miles. It was on this route that we always walked the dog. 

Because the tree coverage was so dense, there was very little undergrowth obscuring the ground. Leaves and pine needles created a barrier which hindered weed growth. This allowed a clear view deep into the forest. 

Shortly after we entered the woods, a sudden case of vertigo washed over me for several moments. Eventually, as my head began to clear, I could feel my father’s strong hands holding me erect. I suddenly became aware of our dog barking, and I heard another dog barking back. No not back, they were barking in unison. 

When my mind cleared enough for me to stand on my feet unaided, I turned my gaze toward the source of the excited shouts of the second dog. Initially I did not know what to think. I was looking into a mirror. At least I felt like I was looking into a mirror. Fifty feet to the right of the trail, I saw another man, boy and dog. 

I did not remember any other walking trails until this one splintered into multiple paths another half mile from here, so I wondered what the others were doing out here. Another few moments later I realized these others paralleled all of our moves exactly. Their clothes were of a different fashion from ours, and the dog was of a different breed. Despite the minor differences, the others were exactly like us. 

My whole world crashed in around me. I did not know if they paralleled our moves or if it was us that mimic theirs.  Were the dogs barking at one another or was it the same dog barking in both places. I tried to ask my father what I was seeing, but he told me to be quiet and pay attention. 

“Be patient my son,” he said. “Try to calm your thoughts and watch closely at everything around you.” 

The reflections of ourselves appeared to be having the same conversation. I was looking across the threads of existence to another universe for the first time, and so was the little boy I was watching. Initially I saw nothing except for that one peculiar scene. My father tried soothing me, explaining I was in no danger, but fear of the unknown gripped me tightly regardless of any assurances. What I saw could not be real, yet there it was. Father saw the others as well but showed very little reaction to them. 

Rubbing his hands on my shoulders, he began to hum. Something about the melody was very soothing and washed my fear and anxiety away. Again, he told me to be silent, quiet the thoughts in my mind and pay attention to my surroundings. An hour passed and I still saw nothing besides the other versions of ourselves. 

Apparently the other me must have seen what he was supposed to see already. The nearly identical versions of us stopped imitating our movements and resumed their walk in the forest. Finally, with the aid of my father, I began to see more than what was there. The trees of the forest faded into almost nothing, and I saw a large number of massive stone structures. They reminded me of the pictures I saw in a book about ancient Egypt. I still saw the forest, but it was nothing more than a vague ghostly image. 

Father asked me what I saw as I scanned across the odd civilization. At first, I ignored him. What I saw commanded all of my attention. When he asked me again, I softly told them what was displayed before me. Something about this revelation pleased Father tremendously. 

I told him of the beings in the city. In no way shape or form were they human. They were like giant, towering amoeba. Their leathery thick, green skin was almost totally transparent. Rather than nuclei in the center there were only what could be called brains in their amorphous bodies. 

There was no doubt the creatures were intelligent. They did after all build the city of polished granite and marble. At least I thought it was granite and marble. I was not sure if the same minerals existed in this reality as were in mine. 

They had no sensory organs in any normal sense of the word. Occasionally two of them partially merged in what I thought was an exchange of information. I could’ve gotten caught in awe of this place if father had not roused me to my senses. 

I looked into his eyes and saw the pride. Over the next several hours, he explained the nature of my second sight. He told me bedtime stories about people who could see people from other worlds, but until now I thought it was fiction. This was the conversation when I learned only the men of my family had the second site. He told me this gift never manifested itself until the male was six years old. 

The vast majority of males in my family could only see into the immediately adjacent realities. My father was overcome with joy when I described the scene that played before me. Occasionally men in my bloodline are born with the ability to see much-much deeper into the string of pearls, the threads of all that is. My sight was powerful. I was a member of this very tiny minority. 

He explained what I saw was an alternate universe occupying the same space as hours. I was only six, so it was close to impossible for me to wrap my arms around it at all. It did not make sense to me how something else, somewhere else could be where we already were. It was utterly baffling. 

During the following years, Father taught me how to control my ability. He could not fathom what it was like to see as much as I, so it was difficult for him to teach me to deal with it. Still, he did help me control my gift enough to preserve my sanity. 

Father was one of the family members who believed in working in cooperation with the others. Initially I followed the same path, but that would later change. My father only saw those at the threshold of our universe and the next. I could see much deeper and trusted the others less and less as I watched them go about their daily activities. 

According to my father, I could cross physically into any reality I could see, but I was too terrified of what could happen if I did. I never made use of this ability at Father’s request and because of my own crippling fear. Whether it was actually possible or not, I was too scared of becoming stranded in a universe that was not my own to find out. The air could be different, or the ambient levels of radiation could be much higher. I did not know if I would be able to adapt to new environments, and Father was unable to answer me this when I asked. The two universes he could see were virtually identical to our own. 

In time I learned to project myself mentally. This could -accurately be referred to as an out-of-body experience. I dared not attempt to move across the threshold in my physical body, but when I projected myself through the ether that connects the whole of existence, I was not perceived by those in the other realities. I felt much safer leaving my body at home and doing my exploring as a ghost. 

I attained years of knowledge in a very short time. When I moved across one universe from my own, time slowed in my universe from my perspective. The further I moved from my own universe; the more time stood still back in my own. This allowed me to spend years studying the vastness of reality without wasting any of my own years. 

In most universes I found only infinite chaos with no definable laws of physics. Among the dimensions remaining only a small percentage supported life as we understand it. The ones I did find occupied usually had inhabitants with a level of violence the same as our own. There were some a little more and some a little less violent than humans. 

I took a special interest in the world of the green amoeba-like beings. Theirs was the second universe for me to see besides my own, and it was far away from my own. I could spend years there, and only a few minutes would pass for my body at home. 

These amoebas, who I came to call “the Grand,” were by far the most peaceful species I encountered in any universe I visited to date. I spent hundreds of years in their universe watching and studying them. When one Grand encountered another, they began a several hour-long ritual of saying hello. They were never in a hurry, and I never once saw one of them commit a single act of violence. It was as if violence was a concept unknown to them. The reason this was such a favorite place for me to visit was because of how blissfully peaceful it was. 

The architectural design of the Grand was absolutely awe inspiring. Blocks weighing tens of tons, all cut in oddly irregular shapes fit together snugly like pieces of a puzzle. I was never sure of their motivation for this, but nowhere in their architecture could one find anything with a right angle. With all the time I spent there, the reason for this is something I have yet to discover. 

Their cities were absolutely awe inspiring. No two buildings looked alike, but despite the vast array of designs there was a sense of uniformity about them. Very few of the structures had roofs, which made sense in this world. 

I never once saw it rain. The weather was always extremely consistent. For hundreds of years the weather remained exactly the same. A thin and even layer of cloud covered the sky, thin enough to allow the large blue sun to shine through. 

A system of underground catacombs equal to the size of the city above ground were a part of every metropolis of the Grand. This is where they did the things they considered to be the most private and sacred such as mating, eating and sleeping. 

The mating ritual of the Grand could include a number of individuals at least two or more. In specially designed chambers, the Grand join together to create what was essentially a massive multi-celled organism. This took anywhere from a few weeks to several years depending on the number involved. Genetic material is traded, and soon after separating the Grand will each sprout a bud. After several years of carrying and nurturing the bud, the growth falls from the parent and becomes a new Grand. 

I made the decision to stay out of the catacombs after my first few visits there. I realized it was a place they considered sacred and private to them. Being the gentle creatures they were, I really felt I should respect their traditions and beliefs on the matter. 

Initially I thought the maze of structures were composed of granite or marble. When I had enough time to look at them closely, I could see the stone resembled Jasper more than rough granite or smooth marble. 

I never thought Jasper could be formed in such large sections; that was, if it was truly Jasper. It occurred to me long ago that the geological properties existing in my home reality may not exist here. That always made me wonder how diverse the laws of physics were from one reality to the next. For this reason, I was ever so happy I left my body safely in my bedroom, in my house and in my own universe. 

It was in my 17th year when I saw the first signs of the invasion. The denizens of the amoeba world enjoyed the peaceful life of harmony with all other life native to that reality. I found great solace when I visited that slow-paced civilization, enjoying the casual and serene ways of life. On this world there was no pain, no frustration, there was no negativity of any sort. 

As I observed several of the Grand carving away at a stone to be used in a newly constructed building, the gentle atmosphere of that beautiful tranquil world congealed into massive storm clouds. The Grand did not know what to think as they watched the dark clouds billow forth from nowhere. 

Such a strange sight was never seen on their world, and I found myself to be as shocked as they. Bolts of deep-red electrical discharge blasted from the black clouds, and wherever it struck the ground it left large smoking craters in its wake. Nothing could have prepared me or the Grand for what happened next. As the smoke from the glowing hot craters cleared away, I saw the forces of the attacking army. 

Thousands of soldiers, some of them bipeds, many of them not, gathered from different realities rushed outward killing every animal-like life-form they encountered. A dimensional vortex, an aperture between worlds remained in the center of the smoking craters. Soldiers poured through the gateways in what seemed like endless numbers. 

The vast majority of the army appeared to consist of a hoard of creatures that had the look of a wild man from the waist up, but a body resembling that of a dire wolf from the waist down. These vicious creatures slaughtered without compassion or remorse. Others appeared reluctant to engage in the slaughter, but participated nonetheless. 

Although the Grand greatly over towered the invading army, they had no means of defending themselves. Violence was a concept with which they were completely unfamiliar. Attempting to flee was not even a thought they considered as this was an unknown idea to them. The innocent and peaceful Grand were slaughtered because they did not know what else to do. 

I could not believe what I was seeing. I watched these benevolent beings for centuries of their time. No where else in the strings of reality did I find a species this peaceful. They were being slaughtered and there was nothing I could do to help them. I watched on in sadness and horror as the army slaughtered every last living being they encountered. 

Out of sheer instinct, I brought myself in for a closer look. One man was obviously the leader. Everyone appeared to be taking orders from him. I willed myself over to him and instantly knew that there was no hope for my world. This army would move from one reality to the next led by an extremely powerful psychic. The man who commanded the slaughter of the peace and tranquil Grand was instantly familiar to me. I was looking at a face I saw many times before. I was looking at a mirror image, an alternate version of myself. 

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