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There was no doubt I chose the wrong time of the year to try to travel. I was six hours away from my home when it began to lightly snow. Within an hour that light snow became heavy, and before I knew it, I drove my Model-T right off the road. This was a brand-new vehicle, and I was quite sure I broke the front axle when I jumped the shoulder and careened right off into the ditch.
I could not see if there were any houses in the vicinity as the snow was falling so heavily; I could not see more than a hundred feet in any direction. The wind blew so heavily it caused snow to begin building up on my driving goggles, and trying to wipe them clean with my gloved hands was a futile endeavor. I had no choice but to remove the obscured goggles which exposed more of my face to the harsh wind. I tried to pull my scarf up as far as I could, but I still had to leave myself room to see, even if I could not see right now because of the sudden blizzard.
My first thought was to bundle up with the blanket in the back and wait with my vehicle. The problem was that, if someone did not come along, I would end up out here after dark. Abandoning my initial instincts, I decided to put on my overcoat, wrapped up in the blanket, and began walking. I was sure there were some houses around here somewhere. How far they were from here was something of which I was very uncertain.
Walking along the snow-covered road spurred my body to use energy which in turn kept me warmer than I would be in a stationary position. It seemed choosing to leave my car behind was the right idea after all. I could not imagine what it would feel like to sit there and freeze to death. At least moving I was better able to maintain my body temperature.
If anyone were to come along from behind me, they should see my car on the side of the road and be on the lookout for the missing driver. If they came from the other direction, they would see me before my car. Either way I felt confident my chances of survival were much higher if I stayed on the move.
It would have been a lot of help if the wind would stop blowing so forcefully. With the snow blowing as intensely as it was, it was creating drifts on and beside the road which made it very difficult to see if I was walking on the road or if I was about to walk off into the ditch. My initial thought when I set out on foot was to try to find a nearby home, but with as much trouble as I had finding the road, I worried I might overlook any driveways I may pass. Any houses set too far back would be impossible to see from the road.
Heavy gusts of wind carried blankets of snow that packed against my coat as it pelted me from the side. I knew my drive was going to be a cold one, so I dressed myself accordingly. I did not expect this snow to come on all the sudden like this causing such extreme white out conditions. If I was not so eager to show off my new car, I would have waited until the weather was a bit warmer to try and make such a long trip. I was overeager to show everyone the vehicle that now lay disabled in a ditch some ways behind me.
After trudging through the snow for more than half an hour, the wind finally began to ease off. The large icy flakes began to taper off as well giving way to a much smaller, much lighter snowfall. I was now able to see at a much greater distance, but that did not help me push my way through the now knee-deep snow. I doubted very seriously if anyone was going to come driving along this route with the snow being as deep as it was. My only hope was to find warm shelter somewhere until I could get my car fixed or at least find a ride back to the city.
When I rounded the peak of the next hill, I was elated to see a large two-story house far off in the distance to my right. The snow was as deep in the open field as it was on the road, so I decided there was no point following the obscured street. I left the road and took a diagonal path to the house. It took a bit of looking, but I found a spot in the ditch where the snow was no deeper than on the road. Crossing the ditch and leaving the road behind, I made my way into the field behind the trees lining the thoroughfare.
I somewhat began to regret my decision to leave the road and venture out into a snowy field. Following the road would take me longer to reach my destination, but at least it was relatively smooth. The ground underneath this snow was rough and uneven which made walking through it very difficult. At this point I was not about to turn around though, so I kept pushing toward my destination.
Clumps of white snow caked my coat and trousers. Thankfully I wore enough clothing to keep me sufficiently warm and to prevent my body heat from causing the snow to melt. Once I reached the house next to the forest-line, I could beat most of the snow free so my clothes did not become wet when I went inside. Hopefully the residents would allow me to stay until I could catch a ride from someone back to the city. If I could just get back there, I would be happy.
Forcing my way through the knee-deep snow, I almost fell several times when I stepped on a large clump of dirt, or my foot found a shallow hole in the ground. I cursed myself for even deciding to take this drive. The only reason I wanted to attend this family gathering was to show off my new motorcar, and now it laid disabled in a ditch.
Had I expected any snow, I would not have attempted to make this long drive. I knew it was going to be cold, but I had no idea there was going to be more than a foot of snowfall. I supposed that was what I got for wanting to be nothing more than a prideful showoff.
The sun was going to be setting soon, and when it did, I knew I could expect the temperature to drop fast. The house I now so desperately wanted to reach was clearly much further away than I initially anticipated. For a short time, I remained on the edge of a panic attack, as it did not feel like I was ever going to reach that domicile.
After nearly an hour pushing my way through the heavy snowfall, I arrived at my destination. I froze momentarily when I saw the condition of the land around the house. All the snow in the immediate vicinity of the house was completely melted away. That did not make any sense. It was still very cold outside, and the snow did not stop very long ago. Although everything around the house was clear, it still had a snow-covered roof.
I wanted to turn around and head right back to my car. There was something about this place that sent chills of fear down my spine. This was simply not normal, but if I did not find refuge somewhere soon, I knew I was going to freeze to death. I stood there for a few more minutes trying to decide what to do before I finally conquered my fear enough to approach the house.
My hands were too cold and clammy to remove my gloves, so I pounded on the door with the bottom of my fist. Several minutes passed with no one answering the door, so I pounded on it several more times. Still there was no answer.
I assumed no one was in, and the sun was now behind the trees. I could feel the temperature dropping quickly. I realized I had no choice; I was going to have to go inside the house and wait for the owners to come home. Stepping away from the door, I beat the snow off my coat and pant legs with my increasingly numbed hands. To my amazement, as soon as the snow hit the ground, it melted away and dried up almost instantly.
Nearly on the verge of tears, I pushed past my trepidation and walked back up to the door. Part of me hoped it would be locked, but I was not so fortunate. When I grasped the knob and turned, the door came open. The only thing making me overcome my fear of what might be inside was the certain death of remaining outside.
There was no one inside, much to my relief. The interior of the building was amazingly warm given the frigid temperatures outside. A small fire, the remnants of a once much larger fire, smoldered in the hearth, but nothing significant enough to keep the whole house warm. I did not see a tank for a furnace when I approached the house, but I suppose it could be on the other side.
Not thinking about how incredibly rude it was, I began slowly moving about the first floor of the home looking for any clue as to whom the domicile belonged. There were no books, newspapers or literature of any sort lying about. It was probably because my nose was so cold that I did not notice it at first, but I began to detect the aroma of something cooking in the kitchen.
With the stress of the whole ordeal, I did not notice how hungry I was until I got a whiff of whatever was cooking. It smelled delicious. Even though I knew the residents would probably be very angry, it was very difficult to resist the temptation of going in there to fix myself a plate to eat. I thought it best I did not enter the kitchen lest the urge to eat overcome my ability to resist.
The two oil lamps burning, one on a table and the other hanging from a hook, were clearly not sufficient to produce the amount of light in the room. As I scanned around the area, I noticed nothing in the room produced any shadow. A chill passed through me as I looked about the room for whatever created this excess level of illumination. Although nowhere near the lamps, the light seemed to be coming from the center of the building. I could not see into other rooms from here, but I could see there was light in the kitchen.
A few minutes later I believed I had the center of the illumination figured out. It made no sense to me how I could be standing in between the lanterns, yet my body produced no shadows at all. At least that is what I thought until I turned my gaze upward. I could see my shadow on the ceiling of the room, like the light was coming from directly beneath me.
How could that be?
The floor was not glowing; it was made from planks of solid wood. I did not get a chance to finish my thought; outside it sounded like two individuals just rode up on horses. I could hear one instructing the other to take the horses to the barn, and then I could hear the sound of heavy boots walking across the large front porch. In only seconds whoever it was would be inside.
Initially I intended to greet the residents and explain to them my situation, but too much about this house was not right. Something strange was going on here, and I really did not want to find out what that was. Walking toe to heel to soften my footfalls, I exited the main room and slipped into the kitchen. I hoped there would be somewhere in there I could hide until I could sneak back out again. I made it into the next room right as the front door began to swing open.
My heart pounded in my chest so hard I was afraid they might hear it. I tried to stifle my breath as I moved slowly to the far corner of the kitchen. Both to my relief and my dismay, I found a door that led to the basement underneath the house. The door was already slightly ajar, so I very cautiously stepped inside and pulled the door back to its original position.
The basement was illuminated by the same strange, eerie light that shone on the first floor, but down here it was much brighter. I again cursed myself for deciding to take a trip like this during such a cold time of the year, but I just had to try and be a showoff. Now I was trapped in a house even the snow was afraid to approach. My hosts were possibly good people, but there was something that felt sinister about this house and everything in it.
Before anyone came into the kitchen and found me, I began to slowly work my way down one wooden plank to another. I did not put the full of my weight on any one step until I was sure it was not going to squeak. Being mindful to bring my feet to rest on the side edges of the stairs, I hoped this would prevent me from making any noises the residents might hear.
I reached the bottom as I heard the footsteps upstairs move into the kitchen. Turning the corner, I was horrified at what was before me. In the center of the basement was a round table covered in a crimson cloth. Standing in the center of the table was what I could only describe as a transparent, three feet tall, sky-blue jellyfish. The abstract sculpture glowed with an unearthly, sky-blue light. Apparently, this was what was illuminating the first floor of the house as if there were no floorboards obscuring the terrifying radiance.
The strange luminant figure on the table was by far the least terrifying thing down there. The walls were decorated with cryptic symbols of some sort, and for their medium they used what were clearly human bones. I saw jawbones and teeth, rib bones, and finger bones. The only type of bones I did not see in this den of horrors were skulls. As put back as I was looking at the macabre sight before me, I had to step in and get a closer look.
The bones were on a series of threads being allowed to droop in some places and held firm in others. Some of the bones dangled by one end while others were threaded lengthwise. The threads of human bones overlapped and intertwined in a very calculated manner. This was how they created the ungodly runes covering the basement walls.
Did people die in the process of creating this horrible series of patterns on the walls, or did the bones come from the already deceased?
It was not until I spotted a shift in color in the twine holding everything together that I realized the thread was spun from human hair. The skill with which the bones were drilled, threaded and placed was beyond compare. Whoever did this clearly had a lot of practice and a lot of time on their hands. If it was not so incredibly ghastly, I would have a great appreciation for the display as the work of art that it was.
There were a few small windows, but they were up at the ceiling and only about six inches wide by four inches high. I was never going to fit through there, and the windows appeared to be the only openings to the outside. Realizing I boxed myself into a trap, my hands started trembling as I began to panic. Desperately not wanting to become a part of this hellish arrangement of human death, I looked around the room for somewhere, anywhere to hide. There was no external exit from the basement to the outside. I began to panic at the possibility those sadistic people upstairs would come down, and if they did, I would probably become part of their artwork. I had to find a crawl space or somewhere to hide. The intense anxiety welling up in me subsided a bit when I saw an old coal chute on the far corner of the room.
Listening intently to the footsteps above to make sure I did not hear them heading toward the basement door, I crept over to the opening in the bottom of the wall. The portal was approximately three feet by three feet which should be enough room to allow me to climb out. I could only hope there was no lock or anything on top of the lid that would prevent my escape.
Until now all I could hear from the floor above were muffled voices, but now I was in the corner of the basement I could hear them more clearly. An airshaft in the wall allowed me to hear what was being said. What was being said chilled my blood more than the frigid temperatures outside ever could.
Apparently, they found my vehicle sitting in the ditch a few miles from here. It was fortunate for me the snow picked back up after I came inside, so they did not see the trail I made through the field up to their house. Had they seen my trail, they would certainly know I was in their house right now. As it stood, they still thought I was outside in the cold somewhere. Two others were still out looking for me along the road. That meant I was not going to be clear even if I got away from this house.
My only hope would be to steal one of their horses to make my get away. I was never going to get anywhere on foot, especially since the sun set hours ago. On a rested horse I should be able to reach another house, preferably not one possessed by whatever malevolent force as this cursed place. I could only wonder if the people of this region were aware of the ghastly practices going on at this place.
My coat would make climbing impossible, so I removed it and draped it around my neck. There were several blankets I wished I could take, but that would be much too cumbersome for the coming task. It took me several minutes to get my body inside the soot filled chute and in a standing position. From here I was going to have to rely on my own strength to get to the top. Pressing my arms and feet in the corners in front of me and pressing my back and shoulders against the back wall and sides, I began to scoot my way up the coal shaft.
Movement was very slow going at first, but I quickly got the hang of climbing with my whole body squirming up this chute like a worm. How long it took me to reach the top I could not say as time seemed to have lost all meaning. Perhaps it was minutes, or maybe it was an hour. Fear, desperation, and the physical exertion of the climb all warped my perception of how long went by as I made my way up.
There was no sense of relief when I reached the top and found the cover was not locked, there was only more fear. Stealing a horse right now would probably be a bad idea if there were still two people out searching for me. I needed to wait until the others returned before trying to make my escape, otherwise I risked running into them. I could not possibly hold myself suspended above the ground in this chute until they returned. I was reaching the point of exhaustion already.
Very carefully I lifted the wooden lid above my head. The old hinge squeaked faintly as cold metal rubbed against cold metal. It was probably far from the volume required to alert the residents, but to me it sounded like an air-raid siren. I prayed silently as I stretched my neck and upper back so I could scan the surrounding area. I did not see any movement or lanterns swaying about, and I could see the barn rather clearly from here.
There was not much time to think about it, I could not hold myself up in this concrete shaft any longer. I decided my best option would be to climb out and hide in the barn under some hay until the others returned. The hay would not keep me warm, but it would keep me from getting so cold I would freeze to death. I could then steal one of their horses and make my escape.
Very slowly I pushed the creaky lid open and shuffled my body out of the constraining shaft. Keeping low, I ran to the barn door which was held closed by nothing more than a wooden bar on a hinge. The cold wood creaked when I pulled on the door, so I only pulled it open as far as I had to in order to fit inside. Once in the structure I pulled the door back closed and lowered the hinge.
The moon was bright that night and shone in through multiple windows on the side of the barn. After five minutes or so of adjustment time, I was able to see well enough to move about the area. I was thankful the horses did not become upset as I passed very closely to them. The beasts must be well trained. Hopefully they were not so well trained that they would resist my attempt to steal one of them. I did not want to think of what would happen in that case.
I did not realize the extent of the scrapes on my arms from my climb up the coal chute until I put on my overcoat. I could feel my flesh scraping against the concrete walls, but I did not think I scratched myself up this badly. My knees, back and shoulders hurt as well, but they were at least protected by some clothing. My hands and forearms were bare, and the rough sides rubbed my flesh like sandpaper. There was not a lot of time to think about that, and I got my coat put on quickly.
I saw there were three empty stalls which would have been terrible places to try and hide. When the others returned, they would want to put their horses away. As soon as they did, they were sure to find me. The hay loft was probably the best place for me to try and hide from them while also trying not to freeze to death.
I reached the ladder and began to slowly ascend, being very careful not to make a sound. That turned out to be an impossible task on this squeaky wooden ladder, but I tried to be as quiet as I could. Getting to the top and getting hidden was of the utmost priority. If I did not want to end up as part of that ghastly shrine, I could not let these people catch me.
When I finally reached the hayloft, I made something of an opening in the mounded hay and shimmied my way back until I could not move any further. Covering myself completely with straw, I hoped this would be sufficient enough of a hiding place to prevent me from getting caught. I was quite confident they would not be able to find me up here in the dark. In the daytime I would probably not be very well hidden, but all they had to use were lamps and lanterns. Those produced insufficient light to reach all the way up here to the hay loft.
I waited very impatiently for the better part of an hour when I began to hear voices outside of the barn. I was not sure if this was the others returning, or if it was the people I hid from in the house. Doing my best to slow my breathing, I remained as still as possible in my hiding place under the hay. My heart was beating so hard I could hear each pulse throb in my ears. Sparks briefly filled my eyes when the large wooden doors to the barn finally swung open.
Two people, young men from the sound of their voices, led their tired horses into the large wooden structure. I could not see much from the concealment of the hay, but it appeared one of them was carrying a shuttered lantern. It was bright, but not bright enough to illuminate the loft. When they began talking, I could hear them rather clearly. The subject of their conversation chilled me to my core.
Apparently, they thought they had me. The two young men found someone walking along the road through the snow and assumed this other man was the owner of the derelict vehicle. Because I was hiding, I could not see anything, but I heard them say they had this other man tied up and gagged outside. They intended to drop this man into the chute and then “get him ready.” I did not know what that meant exactly, but everything my mind conjured was something painful and horrific. I wanted to vomit when I thought of what was cooking in the kitchen.
Of course, I did not want to see this man die the death that would have been mine, but there was nothing I could do to help him. If these demented people were to find me, they would be ‘getting me ready’ too. I tried not to think of the probable scenarios that were to be this man’s fate. It was undoubtedly very selfish, but I was not going to allow them to use me in their unholy rituals. With them occupied with this other man, I would stand a much better chance of getting away. If I tried to help him, we would both die.
I waited for what I approximated to be half an hour after the two left and closed the barn doors before even attempting to move. I remained seated in an awkward position for too long and one of my legs was asleep. Getting down the ladder would be impossible until I could feel my leg again. Trying to move it around a little, I rubbed my leg with my hands in a hurried attempt to regain normal sensation.
As I waited for this spell to subside, I listened very intently for any noise outside. No more than ten minutes after the pair closed the barn behind them, everything appeared to be silent outside. When my leg once again felt like it should, I began an extremely cautious descent down the creaky wooden ladder.
It felt like I was climbing that ladder for an eternity trying to reach a bottom I secretly hoped was not there. Finally, as I took a step down, my foot landed atop solid ground. I stood there for several minutes doing nothing but listening. There was a window in the wall of the barn that would allow me to see the house if I moved a bit closer. I did not particularly want to look out the window, but I had to make sure it was clear before attempting my escape.
Very carefully, I took one small step after another until I could see the house. I was still going to have to work my way closer if I wanted to get a wide enough view to see the whole house. Terrified I was going to knock something over and cause a racket, I continued taking tiny steps as I groped blindly in front of me with my hands. When I was close enough to see, I looked around to see if I saw a body lying outside, but I suppose they already dropped the other man down the shaft.
No one appeared outside the whole time I was watching, which I estimated to be fifteen minutes, so I decided it was time to try to make my escape. I was a seasoned rider, so I did not think I would have any trouble getting the horse to obey my commands. Carefully making my way over to one of the more rested horses, I stoked its fur to gauge its reaction. The beast did not shy away from me, which told me it must be used to being around strangers.
I removed the saddle from the wall and proceeded to put it on the horse I chose for my escape. Everything seemed to be going fine until I tried to lead the horse out of the barn. When I walked it to the barn doors, the horse suddenly began bucking and making a terrible racket. I desperately tried to get the beast to calm down, but it was fiercely fighting against me. I knew the residents of that house would hear this and come to see what was going on. Abandoning the creature at the threshold of the barn door, I darted outside and ran around behind the building as fast as I could.
This far from the house the snow remained on the ground. I think that penetrating light was what kept the snow away from the house. That strange object in the middle of that table only kept the snow melted within a certain radius. The light could not reach the top of the second story, so the snow on the roof remained.
Not even sixty seconds passed before I heard voices yelling as the residents came running out of their house. As they ran toward the barn doors, I could hear them saying something about someone stealing and for one of them to run inside and get a gun. Over and over, I kept thinking to myself that I should have made my escape on foot, but I really and truly think I would have frozen to death only miles from this place.
As soon as they saw the geared-up horse waiting just inside the barn doors, these people would know someone was here who should not be. It would be extremely obvious someone was trying to steal a horse, and with the timing they would know without a doubt the would-be thief was still somewhere very close by.
I was at a complete loss as to what I should do. If I stayed right here, they would find me very soon. If I was to take off running, the one with the gun might see me and shoot me in the back. Tears began to stream from my eyes as I realized every option I had open to me would surely lead to my death. I did not think I was even afraid of death as I was what they were going to do with me after that. I wanted a good Christian burial; I did not want to become part of the macabre display in the basement of this country house.
Staying where I was, was certain death. Making a run for it was only probable death, so I decided to make a break for the tree line before anyone made their way behind the barn. Running through the snow was virtually impossible, and my whole body trembled from the absolutely terrifying situation in which I currently found myself. I probably made it two hundred feet at the most when I heard one of them yelling that they found me.
At this point I began to sob out loud as I continued my futile attempt to run in the deep snow. I did not want to die. This was like something that happened that a horror novelette, not something that happened in real life. It was impossible for me to conceive as to how someone could be so evil as to take pleasure in tormenting other human beings like this.
I heard the gunshot, but I did not feel it. Immediately after the loud bang sounded out in the night air behind me, my right leg collapsed out from under me. I tried to get back to my feet, and that is when I discovered the bullet hit me in the back of the knee and exited my kneecap. Crawling was impossible due to the depth of the snow, but I tried anyway.
My hunters were upon me in no time. I could hear them laughing, but the pounding in my ears was too intense for me to understand what they were saying until they drew closer. They were excited over having gotten two kills in one day. If there was any uncertainty as to my fate before, there was not any now.
When they finally came to stand over me, I could somehow see great age in those young faces. The pair appeared to be no older than in their late twenties, but there was something that seemed much more ancient about their demeanor. I was sure it was a delusion brought on by the terror they were putting me through. My desperate mind was searching for some way out of this situation.
One of them leaned down to me with a smile spread across his face. My terror reached a whole new depth when he began to speak. He was not talking to me, at least not at first.
“We’ll be able to age this one in the barn for a bit, let it tenderize some,” he said as he looked over his shoulder. His gaze then turned back to me and he continued, “There’s two things a person needs to live forever. We’ve got to have the energy, which I suspect you already saw.”
Searing pain shot through my shoulder as a cold meat hook dug in beneath my collar bone. As I stared into the face of the first man, the second came behind me and buried the butcher’s tool deep in my flesh.
Before he yanked me in the other direction by used of that large hook and began to drag me back to that house, the first man continued, “The other thing is the proper diet.”
I tried to reach up with my right hand to pull the hook out of my body, but it was a futile effort. With the hook in my left shoulder and a bullet hole in my right leg, the worst pain I ever imagined filled my entire body. The back of my jacket filled with snow as they dragged me along the ground.
“You see, people need certain kinds of meat to live. Five hundred years ago, we realized there is one kind of meat that is already perfect for human consumption.”
He continued to talk a bit after that, but I began to drift out of consciousness. I was still aware of the pain brought on by the cold metal in my shoulder and the hot metal that went through my knee, but a warm feeling began to wash over me. The bright moon became hazy and surrounded by a transparent halo. That beautiful sight was the last thing I would ever see. Fortunately for me, my life slipped away from me before they were able to drag me back to that house with the snow-covered roof.
Photo by Mikhail from Freerange Stock
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