Word Count: 5,202
Traveling through the forested hills west of the Great Smoky Mountains, I was headed to the newly ratified state of Oklahoma. An aunt I never knew I had passed away and it appeared I was her only heir. I was not even aware of her passing until seven months after she departed this world. She left me a house with a rather large swath of land which I planned to make into a farm once I arrived.
The air grew cold as the year came to its end, but I was happy just being out of the mountains before the snow began to fall. I was uncertain for several weeks of whether or not I would make it to lower ground before the mountains began to fill with snow. My horse and I were not equipped to handle such weather, and getting stuck up there through the winter would probably have been a death sentence for us both.
My original hope was to reach Decatur and ride out the rest of the winter there, but the weather was not that kind to me. I was still deep in the foothills when the snow began to fall. Two inches or so fell in the first few days, so I thought I was not going to have too much to worry about. The next day the clouds began to drop large, clustered flakes that greatly impeded my vision and accumulated on the cold ground quickly. In one hour, I saw more snow than in the previous several days.
By the time midday arrived, I was beginning to worry. I knew I was still several weeks from my destination, and I did not think we were going to be able to survive out here for that long. If I did not find shelter for me and my horse soon, we would be goners for sure.
Several hours passed and I managed to locate a crevasse between two gigantic stones that would at least shield me and my horse from the wind. I would have to try to gather some wood and get a fire started if we were going to make it through the night and into the morning. After tying my mount to a half-buried stone, removing the saddle and covering it with what blankets I could, I scoured the area for any burnable wood I could find.
At least on this front I was fortunate. Craggy trees filled the region and locating dry dead logs did not turn out to be as difficult as I anticipated. In no more than an hour I had enough wood stacked up to easily last me through the night.
Although this crevasse was open all the way to the top, only a minimal amount of snowfall made it into the crack to fall on top of me. I was sure I would not have to worry about the snow putting my fire out as I prepared myself a meager meal or while I slept. Losing my heat at either of those times could present serious problems for me.
Following what could scarcely be called dinner, I piled enough wood on the fire to keep it going easily through the night. The narrow canyon walls helped keep the wind from dissipating the heat too quickly, and the natural shelter stayed warm enough to keep us alive through the night. Propping my back against the hard stone, I covered myself with my bedroll as best I could before allowing myself to drift off to sleep.
I was not happy to see it was still snowing when I awoke, but at least it was not snowing like it was yesterday. Although still falling fairly heavily, the drifting snowflakes were much smaller than those blinding my vision yesterday. As I prepared my breakfast, I considered waiting in my stone sanctuary for another night, but I was afraid if I did the snow might pick back up again. Ultimately, I decided to press forward and hoped I would find another hospitable place to again bed down for the night.
Finding somewhere for my horse to graze turned out to be more difficult than I initially hoped. I knew finding foliage on which my mount could feed would be a challenge, but I was beginning to find it very difficult. More than two feet of snow fell from the sky yesterday and last night, and the entire landscape was blanked in white. Search as I might, I could not find anything more than a small snack for my horse.
The sun was not even at its peak in the sky when I felt the legs of my riding animal began to falter. I climbed off my old friend and tried helping him walk, but it was a futile effort. I was unable to find anything to feed my already hungry horse, and after the ordeal of over the last couple of days, it simply could take no more. He slumped to the ground, and trying to reassure him, I attempted to coax him back to his feet.
I could see it in his eyes; he was not going to make it any further. Drawing my rifle from its holster on the back of my saddle, I put the barrel to my old friend’s temple. With tears streaming from my eyes and freezing on my cheeks, I pulled the trigger and put my nearly two decades-long companion out of his misery.
Taking as much as I could with me, and with a broken heart, I left my old friend behind as I continued to try to find refuge from this terrible weather. When I initially set out on this journey, I worried I might get trapped in the snow in the mountains, but I never expected to hit such a brutal, early-winter storm like this. I tried to learn about the terrain I would pass through on my journey to my land in Oklahoma, and everything I learned told me this area received very little snowfall. Either the information I received was incorrect, or I chose a bad year to make this crossing.
Pushing through the snow took its toll on me rather quickly. Normally I had the stamina to walk from dawn to dusk, but trudging through this deep, heavy snow took much more energy to even move at a slow pace. I had no choice but to push myself onward. Stopping now would mean certain death.
I removed a strip of dried meat from on of my sacks and chewed on that as I walked. I was not able to soak the meat and cook out the salt used to preserve it, and it made me incredibly thirsty. The water in my canteen froze long ago, and I did not have the time to build a fire to melt any snow to drink. Consuming the meat as I went gave me the energy to push on through the still falling snow, that was at least until shortly before dark.
I thought I could make out several buildings off in the distance, but it was difficult to say for certain in the blowing snow. Using every ounce of energy I had left, I stomped my way through the deep snow dreaming of the warmth and comfort those buildings had to offer. The snow began to fall heavily enough to obscure my sight of what I hoped was a small settlement. Only minutes after losing my view of the structures up ahead, my legs finally gave out on me.
I strained desperately trying to bring myself back to my feet, but the effort was in vain. A warm sensation passed over me as I lay there waiting to freeze to death when I thought I saw a light approaching me. I was sure it was an angel here to take me to that land with streets paved in gold as I lost my hold of consciousness, and everything went black.
When I next became aware, I could hear several voices talking quietly. My head throbbed like someone struck my crown with a stone, and it was very difficult to open my eyes. I let out a grunt, and I heard the footsteps of two people quickly making their way to my side. Almost instantly I saw the silhouettes of a man and a woman standing over me before the excruciating pain in my head made me pass out once again.
The next time I awoke, it must have been daylight outside because the illumination was much brighter than the last time I awoke. I found myself lying on a straw filled mattress and covered with several blankets and a goose down comforter. This time I heard no other voices in the room. I called out feebly several times, but I did not think anyone heard me.
I was about to call out again when a small red-haired girl, probably no more than five years in age, came to the door. She stood there for a moment with her rag doll in hand staring at me with what seemed like a mix of fear and curiosity. As soon as I opened my mouth to ask the child for help, she ran yelling into another room of the building. Her loud voice caused my head to pound worse than it already was, but at least she caught the attention of someone who could come in and lend me some assistance.
Only moments after the young child ran screaming, a man and a woman entered the room. I assumed they were the same people I saw last time I awoke, but my eyes were so blurred and the lighting in the room was low, so I could not say that for certain. Honestly, I did not care who the people were so long as they could help me with some food and water.
“I see yer awake,” the man said in a thick Irish accent. “We were worrin about ya. You been sleepin since we found you day before yesterday.”
The woman, who stepped away for a moment returned with a kettle of hot tea and a large ceramic cup. I could see the little girl once again standing in the doorway clutching her ragdoll in both arms. In this extremely remote location, I doubt the girl got to see strangers much.
As the woman poured me a cup of the hot brew she said in an even heavier Irish accent, “It’s a good thing the boys come back from trappin when they did.” She handed me the cup and continued, “You would’a been a gonner for sure.”
Taking several careful sips of the tea, I found it to be very soothing on my sore throat. I gave myself a few moments before once again wetting my throat with the hot tea. I began to try to speak, but the young woman interrupted me.
“Just keep drinkin yer tea and give your throat a minute. Ya been sleepin for more’n a day,” she told me. “You need to be gettin some water in ya.”
As she said those last few words, the young Irish woman refilled my large cup with the kettle she still held in her hand.
“Me and the lads found you when we were comin back from checking our traps,” the man told me. “God must’a been lookin down on you. It was a miracle anyone spotted you through the snow.”
It was a miracle indeed. Once I put my mount and longtime companion down, I was rather resigned to the fact my death would come shortly afterward. I thought I was seeing things when I spotted the buildings through that blowing snow, but I was not even able to make it that far. Luckily, this group of men found me when they did as it probably would not have taken me long at all to die from the cold once my body collapsed under me.
“Thank-thank you so much for your hospitality,” I said through a scratchy but recovering throat.
“There’s no need for thanks, but you are welcome nonetheless,” the man told me.
“Where?..” I began to ask, but as if anticipating my next question, the man already started his answer before I could get past the first word of the question.
“Ya found yerself in the humble little town of Flannery Pass,” he told me. “By the way, me name be Eoin Muldoon. This is me wife Kayleigh. The little one that be peekin her nose in here is our daughter Shauna”
I introduced myself to the generous couple then inquired, “Am I near Decatur?”
“You poor son. Your way off the mark,” he told me in a kind and concerned tone. “If you want to get to Decatur, yer going to have to wait until the snow is done for the season. It’s at least a three-week ride on horseback in the summertime. You’ll never make it on foot here in the dead’a winter
“You can stay with us until you are good on your feet, then there is a boarding house down the road where you can stay after that,” the man told me. “I done talked to the lady runnin’ the boarding house, and she said you can stay’n catch your bill up when you pick up some work.”
I did not know what work, other than trapping, I could find in this town, but this man sounded confident I could find employment enough to at least cover my room. I was not a trapper. I was not really much of a hunter at all, but I was a quick learner.
It only took me three days before I was back on my feet and moving again. Up until my rescue, I managed to keep myself fed, but water was a bit more of an issue as I had no way of melting any snow. I found no rivers or creeks from which I could drink. The last water I consumed was when my old companion and I were hiding in the large stone crevasse. The nice lady rehydrated me with tea and soup in addition to the delicious meals she provided me.
Luckily, I was dressed in thick layers of furs and hides, and I was found almost immediately after I collapsed. I was not out there exposed long enough to lose any of my fingers or toes to frostbite. Although I was reaching a dangerously low temperature, this nice young couple kept me warm with the heavy covers.
By the morning of my fourth day with this family, I was ready to move into the boarding house. The room was quite small, but I did not need it for much more than the bed it contained. There were several desks throughout the building if the boarders felt like writing a letter, journal or anything else. The boarding house was much nicer than I expected after some of the places I stayed over the years.
I was ready to go out with the trappers that day, but Eoin insisted I take this day to get settled in my new accommodations. He assured me I could join them tomorrow as they planned on moving their traps to a new location, and they could use all the bodies they could get. I had money, but I needed to keep that for my trip from Decatur to my property in Oklahoma.
The sun shined the whole day, but it was not hot enough to cause any noticeable snowmelt as far as I could tell. Regardless, it was nice to feel the sun on my face after being trapped in the snow for nearly a week straight. I took some time to explore the small town before the sun began to set and the cold of the night began to creep in. It was a nice little hamlet set in the steep foothills near the mountain’s end. It did not take me long to discover I was the only non-Irish born person here, but I found everyone to be very polite and helpful. Although I never met any Irishmen before, I heard a lot of stories about them. Those stories all turned out to be false as I did not find these people barbaric at all. It was quite the opposite.
As I headed back to the boarding house for the night I noticed a faint light in the distant hills. I continued to watch the light in the distance as I walked down the snow-covered street and found it to be moving back and forth. Once I reached my destination, I stood by the building and watched the light after the sun dropped below the horizon. It appeared to be someone carrying a lantern, but all I saw it do was move from side to side like someone was keeping a watch over something.
I assumed it must just be someone living deep in the hills, and perhaps they were looking for something. Whatever the source of the light was, I was sure it was simply someone looking around the ground for something. I was not going to stand out in the increasing cold pondering what it might be. I needed to get to bed because Eoin would be sending for me an hour before dawn.
I thought we were only going to move traps they already had placed, but we were bringing more with us. Each man had a backpack to carry, two traps and whatever personal equipment they may have. We walked for almost an hour before we reached the running water, from there we walked upstream where the other men began to place the traps. Not knowing what I was doing, I helped the others in any way I could. It took us an hour to get all the traps set, then we headed back downstream where they already had traps placed.
We worked shortly past midday before we headed back to town. This was the routine I followed day after day for the next several weeks. I grew much better at becoming a trapper and no longer needed the guidance of others to perform the job correctly.
The people of the town were some of the most hospitable people I ever met. It did not take me long at all to land on a first name basis with everyone living in the township of Flannery Pass. They even invited me to join them for Mass, even though I was a Protestant and not a Catholic.
Night after night I saw that strange light moving in the hills. It was always in the same place and all it ever did was move back and forth. My curiosity grew each time I saw that lantern or whatever it was. I could not understand why someone would live that deep in the hills nor why they would pace back and forth every night shining a light as they did.
Finally, one evening as I sat and drank with the other men at the pub, I brought up the odd light in the hills and asked if anyone could tell me what it was. You would think I just gave birth to a hen because the room grew so silent all I could hear was the crackling of the fireplace.
“Yer flirtin’ with Devil askin’ things like that,” the eldest man in the town said after many awkward seconds.
I heard Irishmen could be very superstitious, but me asking that question seemed to put the fear of God in them all. With every set of eyes in the room on me, I found myself at a loss for words. I never felt so awkward in my life. They made me so uncomfortable with their stares, I was contemplating paying my bill and leaving the pub. Thankfully Eoin began singing a drinking song, and eventually the others joined in.
What could be up there in the hills that would scare the townsfolk of Flannery Pass so intensely?
One would have thought I just announced myself to be a witch by the way everyone looked at me. Unsure of how what I asked upset everyone so, I wished I could shrink away into nothing. I was so thankful to Eoin for drawing everyone’s attention away from me.
My curiosity over the light in the hills only grew as the nights passed. Eoin saw me standing out late one night observing the light, and he decided to approach me. I think it scared him for me to be staring at this light, but I could not help myself. I could not help but wonder who that could be carrying that light nor their reason for doing it.
When Eoin reached me, he patted me on the shoulder to distract my attention from that illumination off in the distance.
“Ya need to be leavin’ that alone,” he told me in a serious and concerned tone. “If you keep obessin’ over that light, you’ll be overcome by the will o’ the wisp.”
Turning my head toward the Irishman, I inquired as to what a will o’ the wisp was. He told me there were stories of them from back home his mother used to tell him when he was a child. The supernatural creature used lights to draw people into the bogs where they would never be seen again. No one knew what the wisp looked like because no one who ever ventured after one was ever seen again.
I nodded my head, gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and told him I would see him before dawn when we went back out to reset the traps. Struggling to fight the urge to turn and look at the light as I walked back to the boarding house, I began to wonder if there was something ghostly about this nightly luminescence. I did not believe it to be some ghost from the Emerald Isle, but whatever it was, it seemed to have a strong draw on my attention.
There were not too many places in Flannery Pass from which the strange orb could be seen, but walking from the pub to the boarding house was one of them. I found it excruciatingly difficult to not turn my eyes towards those distant hills, but I only frequented the pub one or two days a week. I was trying to save what money I did earn from the furs to purchase a new horse, saddle and the various other things I needed to continue on my journey.
After spending nearly two months in Flannery Pass, the weather finally began to turn to spring and I was ready to be on my way. As payment for my share of the furs, the good people of the town provided me with a mount and everything I needed to ride and tend to it. It was not my old friend, but I supposed we would eventually grow fond of one another. The horse seemed sturdy and healthy, and the man who presented me with the animal informed me it was three years old and still a little stubborn at times. It was a good horse nonetheless.
Almost everyone in Flannery Pass came out the morning I was to depart. They all wanted to say goodbye to me and see me off on my way. If I was not headed to a large estate in Oklahoma, I would have seriously considered becoming a permanant resident of this town. I never met such nice, generous and giving people in my life, and I would probably never see a town like this for as long as I lived.
My gaze turned to the hill upon which I saw that nightly light, and my curiosity finally got the better of me. During my stay in Flannery Pass, I studied the layout of the terrain well. Shortly after I made it out of view of the townsfolk, I altered my course and began to head deeper into the hills. I absolutely had to know what that beacon slowly moving from one side to the other was.
The superstitious people of Flannery Pass thought the light to be some sort of Irish ghost, but I shrugged off such notions. Although a small part of me thought whatever walked nightly with that lantern might be something supernatural, I was almost absolutely sure it was someone keeping watch over something at night.
After winding through the hills for about thirty minutes, I discovered an ancient stone road that seemed to lead to my destination. I could not get over the excellent construction of the road, which appeared to be made of blocks of granite. A majority of the road appeared to be obscured by vegetation and stones that rolled down from the hills over the ages. Enough of the road remained visibly exposed to allow me to stay on its course.
I traveled for almost an hour, and I was quite sure I was growing near to my destination. I decided to dismount my horse and lead it by the reigns instead. Quickly, I learned to avoid the patches of moss I saw growing here and there on the road. It was not anchored like the other vegetation, and more than once I nearly slipped and fell to the hard ground.
Ten minutes into my walk, my new horse began to appear acting nervous. At first, it only seemed a little uneasy, but after five more minutes of walking it began to pull against me. I did not know what had the horse so upset, but I decided to tie it to a tree and make the rest of the walk alone. As I attempted to lash the horse to a tree, it began to panic. Desperately trying to calm the animal down, I failed, and it pulled away from me. I stood there helpless as I watched my newly acquired mount running away. I could only hope it stopped before making it too far.
Wandering along the ancient road for almost another hour I finally rounded a large hill and caught sight of a massive wall built along side of that tall rise from which I continued to see that patrolling light every night since entering Flannery Pass. There were still a few more hills for me to navigate before I reached my destination, and I was unable to get a good look at the base of the wall. I wondered if I would have to climb the hill to reach the top or not, and I was happy to see a stone staircase leading up to the top as I rounded the final hill.
The staircase was windy and steep. The ancient stones were covered in moss, and I found it to be very difficult to climb. It was next to impossible to walk over the slick green moss on the steps, and I found myself having to clear a spot on each step before I was able to progress. This took an incredible amount of time, and I really began to regret my decision to discover the source of that eerie light.
By the time I reached the top of the ancient stone wall, it was getting near to being dusk. I had a clear view of much of the town of Flannery Pass from here, although I was too far away to see any people. It was really quite a beautiful view from here. I could see the majestic snowcapped mountains in the distance and the dark evergreen trees that covered much of the region.
Horror filled me from head to toe once I looked down at the base of the stone wall. Heaped at the bottom of the wall was a ghastly pile of bones rising at least twenty feet up the side. The human skeletons stacked on top of the mound of bones were bleached white and appeared rather fresh as skeletons go. Some of those toward the bottom I could see were in the process of turning to dust and being overtaken by masses of thorns.
I instantly regretted my decision to ignore the warnings of the people of Flannery Pass. I assumed their fears were nothing but old superstitions, but now I was beginning to believe their stories. The sun was beginning to dip below the hills, and I knew that light usually came out shortly after dusk. Now all I wanted to do was get away from here. Cursing myself and my curiosity, I turned around to leave and saw the most horrid, disgusting thing I ever witnessed in my life.
Already standing on the wall beginning its patrol was the thing that walked this wall every night for eons, guarding a civilization that no longer existed. This thing, this abomination standing before me wore no clothing, so I was able to see every disgusting feature of its unholy body. Different parts of its body were in various stages of decay, but that was not the most horrifying part. Its hands, its arms, every part of its body was taken from a different corpse of the unfortunate souls that were foolish enough to venture to this forbidden place.
Right there before me, the flesh golem grabbed its hair with its free hand and ripped its head free from its body. The sound was sickening, but the stench was even worse. Were I not in a state of shock at the moment, I probably would have vomited. The cursed being tossed its rotten head over the side of the wall and withdrew a sword dangling from its side.
I wanted to run, I wanted to get away from this thing as fast as I could, but for some reason all I could do was stand there and watch it stepping toward me. Now I believed Eoin’s story about the Will o’ the Wisp, because this thing seemed to override my will and would not allow me to flee. It stepped forward and raised its sword up high. With one quick swipe, it sliced through my neck like it was butter. Never dropping its lantern, the unholy thing pushed my body over the side of the wall to join the thousands of corpses who proceeded me as my head fell to its feet.
Putting away its blade, the abomination picked my head up from where it fell on top of the wall. Placing my severed head on its shoulders, the ghastly thing took in the beautiful scenery with its new set of eyes, my eyes. Until it rotted away, and this ungodly creature replaced it, my eyes, my face would watch over this region as it guarded this wall from an enemy that died out millennia ago.
Oh, why did I not heed the warnings of the people of Flannery Pass. What I blew off as simple superstition, I should have seen as wisdom and experience. They did everything they could to help me survive through the coldest of the winter for me to ignore them and walk straight to my own death. I guess the people of that small town would know of my fate once they found my horse.
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