Short Stories of the Horror and Bizarre

Tag: Aetet 4

That Thing in the Woods

Word Count: 4,299

Because of one careless person, hundreds of square miles of beautiful forest were now charred and black. Someone was carelessly burning leaves near a dead tree, cinders blew onto the tree and in minutes it was on fire. The rotting, insect infested trunk lit up like a torch and fell into the forest setting the dry leaves covering the ground ablaze. Having had no rain for more than a month, the anhydrous autumn leaves quickly spread the flames. The fire spread so rapidly there was nothing he could do to stop it. Within fifteen minutes ten acres were on fire. 

Underbrush no longer existed in most of the area as the vast majority of it burned away completely in the forest fire that raged through the region one week ago. The news and other media warned people to stay out of the forest for the next several weeks as fires could still be burning. Rather than heeding their warning, I ventured into the timberland anyway. I wanted to see how extensive the damage from the fire actually was. 

My backyard bordered the large forest, but firefighters were able to battle the blaze enough to keep it from reaching the houses in our neighborhood. The trees along my fence remained undamaged, but only thirty feet away the trunks were black and soft ash covered the ground. I was sure our house was going to be destroyed when the authorities finally made us evacuate. It was a relief to my whole family to find out our home remained intact. 

There was a distinct possibility of burning cinders even a week after the inferno ended. To avoid burning my legs, I wore jeans and my hunting boots along with a denim jacket. Hopefully, that would be sufficient to protect me from any rogue cinders drifting about the air or being stirred up from the ground when disturbed by my feet. 

Luckily for me, the weather was rather cool that day, so the heavy clothes were bearable on that late autumn morning. The sky was clear, and there was very little wind. Regardless, I still took some things with me like two canteens of water and a cloth to wrap around my face if the wind were to begin blowing and stirring ash into the air. Normally, I could find my way around the forest simply by looking for familiar landmarks. Being the fire may have destroyed many of those landmarks, usually oddly shaped trees and such, I decided it to be prudent to bring a compass along with me as a precautionary measure. 

Checking first to see if either of my parents were home from work yet, I saw the coast was clear, so I set off into the blackened forest. Following a five-minute walk, I reached the peak of the hill behind our neighborhood. I was dumbfounded to see the devastation that crawled through the area; I could not believe what I was seeing. 

The entire valley, with the exception of a few fortunate spots here and there, was charred and scorched black. As I gazed over the seemingly endless devastation, I could see small plumes of white smoke still rising gently into the air. It was clear there were things still burning out here, and I was going to have to be mindful of possible dangers. It was difficult to comprehend how all the things in the forest I developed a familiarity with since I was a small boy no longer existed. If not so shocked, I probably would have cried. 

Once past the initial shock of seeing the wilderness that was my childhood playground in such appalling shape, I set out across the valley. From the top of the far ridge, I could see for at least ten miles when the trees were thick and full. After seeing how bare this valley appeared to be, I guessed I would probably be able to see much farther than normal. 

Even though things did not look like they once did, I was still able to follow one of my regular walking paths through the smoldering forest. I could see one of those white plumes of smoke billowing from the ground not too far ahead of me. Initially my intention was to try to steer clear of it, but when I noticed the smoke seemed to be rising from a hole in the ground, I decided to take a closer look. 

Smoke was indeed rising from a large hole in the charred earth. As I slowly made my way closer, I wondered if I was about to look into the gates of hell. When I was about three feet away from the smoldering cavity, I felt the ground beneath my feet begin to sag. Carefully taking one small step after another, I backed away from the smoking hollow and the collapsing ground surrounding it. 

It finally dawned on me what happened here. This was once a large stump I used as one of my landmarks to help me navigate the forest. Underneath the ground, the roots of the old stump continued to burn creating the creepy smoke that made the opening in the earth look like a gateway to the underworld. 

It was no wonder why they were still warning people not to come out here into the forest. It was very possible the ground underneath me could have given way, and I would have fallen into the cavity, however deep it was. There was probably a fair chance the earth around the hole could fall in and bury me alive in the smoldering pit. I knew from here on I needed to try to avoid any areas where I saw smoke ascending from cavities in the ground. 

Continuing along my way, I kept my sight on the far edge of the valley. Like the giant stump, I imagined a lot of my landmarks no longer existed. I did not typically use the trees since so many of them looked so much alike. Instead, I used things like large fallen logs, that giant stump, and other obstacles on the ground which were easy to see from surface level. Most of the trees remained, but all the old dead wood on the forest floor along with the underbrush burned away completely. I did not need landmarks now since I could see through the blackened tree trunks all the way to the far ridge. 

As I walked between the charred, leafless trees I still had a difficult time comprehending the scope of the devastation. Things I was familiar with, places I frequented since first being allowed to play in the woods were gone. It almost felt like my childhood burned away with the forest in which I spent the majority of my waking time. All this destruction because one person did not have enough sense to burn leaves at a safe distance from an old dead tree trunk. 

I really did not want to think about this, but I could not help but wonder how many animals were unable to escape the blaze and burned to death. It made me want to vomit. Sure, I was a hunter. I killed all sorts of game animals in my time, but we always ate what we killed. I never shot anything just for the fun of it aside from cans and other inanimate targets. To think about all the poor animals that died in this fire amplified the magnitude of the devastation in my mind by tenfold. 

Many of the hardwood trees still had branches, although the smaller limbs burned away. The pine trees looked like giant black spikes protruding from the ground; their needles and limbs completely burned away, but the thick bark shielded the living cores. It was a haunting sight indeed. I had hopes at least some of the trees would survive. The hardwood trees would probably come back, but I did not think as many of the pines would recover. 

Finally, I made it to the top of the far ridge. I could not believe my eyes. As far as I could see was nothing but burned timber. I took a few drinks from one of my canteens and continued my journey. There were a few houses not too far from here, so I decided to head in that direction. Most of the phone lines were still down. I never got a chance to talk to any of my friends to see how they fared in the blaze, but I did not hear of anyone getting hurt or dying. That kind of information spread quickly in a tight knit community like ours, therefore I was confident there were no human fatalities. Regardless, I wanted to go check to see for myself if they were okay or not. 

As I walked across the ash covered ground, I noticed something glimmering in the bright late-morning sunlight. Curious, I went over to see what it was. It looked like a transparent gelatinous blob of some sort. Since I could not pick up a stick to poke the object, I decided to give it a tap with the toe of my boot. It was solid whatever it was. 

Getting down close to the object, I got a much better look at it. It was a soda bottle someone left littering the forest at some time. When the inferno raged through the area, it was evidently hot enough to melt glass. Not really thinking about what I was doing, I reached out to pick up the deformed bottle. Even after a week the glass was still hot enough to cause my hand to sizzle when I made contact with it. 

Abruptly tossing the molten bottle back to the ground, I quickly poured some of the water from my canteen on my throbbing hand. Simply by looking at it, I could tell my left palm was going to blister. My skin charred white in two places, and I could visibly discern the change as my palm began turning red. 

Retrieving the cloth I brought to protect my face if the air became too ashy; I wrapped it around my burnt hand instead. Normally I would be able to pick one of several plants to help ease the severity of my wound, but alas the fire destroyed everything growing at ground level. There was nothing left with which to medicate my palm. 

Given my injured status, I pondered over whether I should go ahead and turn back or not. After a few minutes of musing over my options, I decided to roam on a little further. I did not think my hand was so severely burned that I needed to seek out medical attention; it would do fine enough for me to tend to it when I finally made it home again. Explaining the injury to my parents would be difficult; that’s for sure. 

Continuing my trek through what was once a full, thick forest, I veered away from my course when I saw something else gleaming on the forest floor. Whatever this thing was, it was much larger than the molten soda bottle I burned my hand on earlier. The closer I got, the better I was able to get a look at the object. 

The thing appeared to be made from some sort of metal, copper perhaps. I remembered this location because of a huge mass of vegetation that accumulated over the decades, and I was sure this object is where that ancient heap of vines and other plants once rested. All these years we played around that mass, we never stopped to consider there might be something inside of it. The fire burned away the concealing foliage exposing this artifact that was hidden for who knows how long. 

It was large. Three feet of the irregularly shaped object with its faceted-like surface protruded from the blackened earth. I could not guess as to how much of the relic remained buried. It was indeed made from some sort of metal, but of what kind I did not know. It almost looked like glass filled with little flakes of gold and platinum, but when I tapped it using my canteen it made a distinct metallic sound. 

I did not feel any heat radiating from this strange object even when I got up close to get a better look. I could not see any seams to indicate this was formed from multiple components, but I was sure it sounded hollow when I tapped it with my metal water vessel. As I walked in a circle around the mysterious object, I noticed some strange symbols or chevrons on the sides and front face. These symbols were very faint and could only be seen when I was standing at a certain angle from the sun. 

Wanting to feel the relic with my own hand, I first poured a bit of my canteen water on it to see if it steamed or sizzled or anything. I already burned one hand; I did not want to burn the other. The water harmlessly rolled down the object until it reached the base and absorbed into the ashen soil. Repeating the process, I received the same results as the first time. The thing was not even hot enough to affect a thin stream of warm water. 

Getting much closer to the object, I wanted to look at the metal as closely as I could. Never in my life had I seen or heard of any metal that looked like this. It appeared to be uniform in color, although the smooth surface was very sparkly. From the proper angle, I could see the shine of the metal seemed to take on a slightly varying tone, which is what created the obscure symbols on the thing. 

Very cautiously, I reached my hand out, quickly touching the object then withdrawing my hand. I did this a few times before I maintained contact for a second or two. This did not seem possible. Even days after the fire burned out, that glass bottle stayed hot enough to badly burn my hand, but this alien thing in front of me was cold. The blaze that ripped through the forest burned away the centuries of plant growth that covered the strange object. If that thing was metal, as it appeared to be, I would think it would still be at least warm to the touch. 

There was no scorching on the frigid artifact protruding from the ground either. Even if it did not heat up enough in the fire to warp the metal, there should still be black soot and smoke residue built up on its surface. Instead, the thing looked like someone finished polishing it only moments ago. I could not imagine how something could stay in such pristine condition after having suffered through the inferno that destroyed so much of these rolling hills.  

I probably spent at least an hour examining the peculiar artifact before deciding to try touching it again. When pushing it over with my foot did not work, I knelt down and tried lifting it. Since I could not use my left hand, I pressed the inside of my forearm against it and using my right hand, I tried lifting it. A surge of energy passed through my body, and I fell backward onto the ground. 

It did not seem like I lost consciousness, but when I touched the object, it was around ten in the morning. When I stood back up after the jolt of energy, the sun indicated it was closer to two in the afternoon. Already having burned my hand and receiving a shock from that unusual metal object, I decided it was best not to push my luck any further. I could come back and examine the object further when the forest finished smoldering. 

Something did not seem right. Feeling very disoriented, I began to experience a churning in the pit of my stomach. I continued a little further before I realized I was walking in the wrong direction. The valley ridge was behind me, and I should have been heading towards it. Whatever that shock I received was, it must have seriously knocked the sense out of me. Even with most of my landmarks gone, I still knew this area very well. I did not understand how I could walk in the wrong direction for nearly twenty minutes. 

Making my way back to the cryptic artifact, I continued on until I reached the valley ridge. When I stepped over the top of the hill, I grew dizzy and confused. I walked this route many times, but there was undoubtedly something amiss. An emergency room visit may be prudent after receiving that strange jolt of energy. Nothing seemed right ever since I tried to pull that artifact from the ground. 

Stopping to drink the remainder of the first canteen of water, I looked around for any remaining landmarks nearby. I saw nothing that looked familiar anymore; the fire destroyed virtually everything on the ground except for the trees. While most of the trees looked like they would recover from this disaster, the same could not be said about the dead logs, tree stumps and underbrush. 

I was happy to finally reach the other side of the ridge, because my home was not far beyond there. Cresting the hill, I could see our house a short distance away. I continued to get those overwhelming feelings of confusion and dizziness as I had since making an attempt to lift that cryptic artifact. As I came down the hill, I noticed something that stopped me dead in my tracks. I was indeed looking at my house from behind, but it did not take me long to realize everything was inverted. Everything was there like it should be, but it was all reversed. 

Could that mysterious object I found have shocked me so bad that I was seeing things backwards? 

That might explain the confusion, disorientation and how I managed to walk in the wrong direction for nearly half an hour. It was difficult for me to accept this possibility because everything otherwise appeared in perfect clarity. I would think if that thing jolted me hard enough to make me see things backwards, I would have issues with blurriness and double vision. 

This could not be happening. I must still be unconscious on the forest floor dreaming up this whole thing. This simply could not be real. Everything was exactly as it should be, but as a mirror version of itself. I would swear this was a dream if it were not for the pain I felt in my hand, my right hand. 

My whole body began to tremble as I was overcome with panic and anxiety. Holding my hands out in front of me, I could see there were no blisters on my left hand anymore, and my right hand was wrapped in a cloth to help protect it. It was not only everything around me that was a mirror image; I was a mirror image of myself. 

What could be going on here? Did that mysterious artifact I found in the forest do something to me that scrambled my mind, my memory? 

No, it could not be. Apart from the intense trepidation I was now experiencing, I felt otherwise normal. I could not believe that my brain could be zapped so hard it made me remember everything in reverse without otherwise somehow affecting me. 

Was I in the wrong place? Was it possible the artifact was some sort of key or doorway that sent me to a world that mirrored my own? 

That made more sense to me than to think I was just crazy enough that I remembered everything backwards. That strange metal that was frigid to the touch was like nothing I ever saw or heard of before now. Those runes, chevrons or whatever they were must be some sort of instructions or a warning perhaps. I needed to get back to that object and use it to return to my own world. 

Turning around, I ran back up to the valley ridge as quickly as I could. I did not want anyone to see me because I was afraid they would figure out I was an alien to this world. Once I crested the ridge, I knelt down for a moment to catch my breath and take a few sips of water. 

Trying to take into consideration everything was the antithesis to what I knew, I started down the ridge and into the valley. Making my way back to the relic protruding from the ground might not be as easy as I initially hoped it would. 

As I was walking back across the blackened forest valley floor, I encountered a small bit of fortune when I came across the path I made through the ash covered ground earlier. Now I did not have to try to think backwards to find my way to the artifact. All I needed to do was follow my tracks across the valley and over the far ridge. 

I looked up toward the sun to get an idea of the time. According to the position of the blazing orb in the sky, it was close to eleven o’clock in the morning. It was positioned at two in the afternoon when I got back to my feet, so that meant even the sun moved in the opposite direction in this world. In that case, it was sometime around one o’clock in the afternoon. 

I thought four hours lapsed between my touching the artifact and regaining consciousness. Now I realized no time passed at all. The sun moved, as I knew it, from two hours before noon to two hours after noon. 

I still wanted to tell myself this was a terrifying dream, but I knew better. It was not only the pain in my hand that made me believe this was real. The bitter taste in my dry mouth, the smell of the burned vegetation all around me, and the vividness of the scorched forest indicated this was all without a doubt real. 

The excursion seemed so much longer than it did earlier, and I was pushing myself at a faster pace. I wanted to get back to the artifact and try to get back home, back to the world in which I was born. The distress of the whole situation made the journey seem much longer than it was. 

Both a sense of relief and of dread passed over me as I saw the strange object protruding from the ground. Although everything in this world was a reversed image to my world, the relic in the ground remained exactly as it was when I first found it. I tried reading the symbols hidden in the shine of the metal again, but they meant nothing to me. None of them was even close to something I could recognize. 

Standing in front of the thing for at least ten minutes, I pondered over what to do. I was sure the thing would activate if I wrapped my arms around it like I did the first time, but I had no assurances at all it would send me back to where I belonged. 

Carefully I tried to position myself in front of the artifact just as I did before. The problem was I was not thinking about it then, so I could not remember exactly how I approached it the first time. Doing the best I could to copy my earlier actions, I wrapped my arm and my hand around the object and pulled. Again, a surge of energy coursed through my body which again threw me to the ground. 

The very first thing I did upon regaining my senses was to raise my hands before my face. To my unending relief, the burn and bandage was once again on my left hand. The sun was where it should be in the sky, and the forest was still a charred disaster. I was not sure if I was back in my own world or not, but it felt right enough. Nothing about that other world felt right at all, but this place did. 

Heading back toward my house, I knew it would almost be dark by the time I got back. I was being careful as I walked since it was becoming difficult to locate the smoldering cavities in the ground. Walking through here was dangerous during the bright of day, but it would be downright treacherous in the dark. 

Arriving at the valley ridge behind our house, I saw everything looked like it was supposed to look. Before going any closer, I examined the houses and lawns of the neighbors, even going so far as to make sure the bicycles in the back yards were the right color.  

I made a futile attempt to level my breathing and stop the trembling in my hands, but the anxiety was simply too much to suppress. Looking at the back of my house, I could not help but wonder if this was really my house, or simply another reflection of it in the universe. My feet felt like lead as I tried to push myself forward to what was hopefully the comfort and safety of my own home. I climbed atop some milk crates to look inside the window to see if it was indeed my family inside. 

Before looking into the window, I had to wonder. If this was not my native universe, was I ever going to find my way back home? Would it do me any good to return to the forest and continue trying to properly activate that thing in the woods? 

Copyright © 2023

Views: 5

Shadow in the Corner

Word Count: 4,879

I was the proprietor of a very prosperous antique shop just a short ways outside of Nashville, Tennessee. The store itself was almost an antique. I purchased the establishment twenty years ago from someone who owned it for fifty years before me. He inherited the store when his elderly uncle passed away who maintained the business for decades before that. I managed to get most of the antiques I sell for next to nothing, which made my store a very profitable one indeed. 

There were so many people out there who had absolutely no idea of the value of some of the things they owned. Many country folk had furniture and household items that seemed old and worn to them, but their antiques could bring me loads of money from the right customers. Uneducated people were my best prey. I could buy many things for pennies on the dollar when people were unaware of what they really had. The trick was to never allude to the true value of an item. If I did this, people would expect to receive that much money from me for it. I had to turn a profit, so I was deceptive and made them believe their things were only slightly sellable. 

Periodically I turned the management of my store over to one of my more trusted employees while I went off on one of my antiquing tours. I recently received word from a couple of pickers with whom I was familiar that they found some artifacts neither of them could identify. They called me so that I could go and have a look at them myself. 

When I entered the destination into my GPS device, it looked like I had a ten-hour drive ahead of me. That was if I drove nonstop until I got there. If I left at 5:00 am, I should make it to the location by 3:00 pm. I knew to expect serious heat and humidity, so I brought along a cooler filled with plenty of bottled water. Sunscreen and mosquito repellent were essentials in that region. In addition, I brought a duffel bag filled with a week’s clothing, toiletries, and a first aid kit. I also loaded several worn pieces of luggage filled with the sort of clothing one might find typical country rednecks wearing. 

I had several sets of forged ID’s. These and the proper attire allowed me to fit in and appear to be more like the people from whom I purchased my antiques. Playing different roles seriously affected my profit margins for the better. When people felt a connection, it was easier to work out a discount, and the bigger the discount was, the more money that ended up in my pocket. Over the years I learned to imitate various accents from around the country, and this allowed me to talk the part as well as look the part as I cheated the locals out of their valuables. 

My drive took me near Tunica, Mississippi and its multitude of casinos. What a waste, I thought. These people go and throw away their hard-earned money in these gambling dens. It was like they could care less if they had any disposable income or not. That was not for me, not in any way shape or form. I worked hard for my money and, I would rather go to Hell than to throw it away at a casino. 

My ex-wife used to spend my money like there was a well in our back yard full of an infinite amount of cash. Before she left, we fought almost constantly over our finances. We fought so much over finances that it finally ended our marriage. I thank God I had her sign a prenuptial agreement before taking our vows. Otherwise, she would have left with half my money or more. She tried suing me several times, but all she did was waste our time and her money. 

I finally got my SUV loaded before the sun rose over the horizon. By the time dawn broke, I was already on the road for thirty minutes. Shortly after I crossed the Mississippi state line, I began to see Spanish moss in the trees. As I drove further, the hanging plants draped over the tree branches more and more thoroughly. The stuff was everywhere, and it increased the darkness produced by the shade of the trees by threefold. 

Spanish moss always gave me the jitters. It filled me with the sensation of driving through a dark and haunting forest. The masses of the light green, stringy plant looked to me like giant cobwebs. I always expected a hoard of monstrous arachnids to swarm out from every direction and engulf my car. No matter how many times I drove through this region of the country, I never got over the eerie creepiness I felt when traveling through there. 

I found the roads of Mississippi to be rather hilly, and in some places the highways were in serious need of repair. Were I not in my SUV, I would have bounced up and down on my seat like a petite woman on a roller coaster. Caught up in my thoughts, I lost track of time. Before I realized it, I crossed the border into Louisiana. It was like suddenly journeying to another world. The hills and pine trees of Mississippi gave way to endlessly flat land with only a scarce tree here and there. I was unable to see very far into the distance because the intensity of the humidity produced a visible haze. 

I passed fields of corn, cotton, and even watermelons. I never knew that watermelons grew on vines, but I supposed that made sense. They were obviously too heavy to grow in trees. Quite frequently, I passed dirt roads leading off into the fields. Several of the dirt roads were actually marked as state highways. I saw highways in bad shape, but never made of dirt. There was not even any gravel on some of the roads, just the iron-rich red clay. 

For some reason my GPS device suddenly stopped showing me where I was. The little blue dot indicating my location was still in the center of the screen, but the map showed no roads anywhere near my current location. For a moment I thought of turning around, but I was sure to find a service station or something where I could obtain directions to my destination. 

A sense of relief washed over me when I saw a small billboard that read, “Grandma’s Antiques and Broken Cookies.” To be honest, my curiosity of the broken cookies roused my anticipation and wonderment more than the idea of browsing the antiques. I never saw a billboard advertising broken cookies before. I passed several signs advertising the place, each time displaying the number of miles remaining to the destination. I wondered more and more what the signs meant by broken cookies. 

I reached the establishment to find it was a beautifully restored plantation house. The building was in immaculate condition, so I figured it was probably restored fairly recently. The grounds were covered with a vibrant green grass, and several moss filled trees dotted the landscape. Rose bushes lined the front and side of the building and displayed beautiful blossoms of yellow and red. The parking area was a large gravel plot located just off the main drive of the house. 

The large, wooden front door was wide open, so I walked in without knocking. The downstairs vestibule was converted to a reception area. A couch and several chairs formed a conversation area to my right and a television viewing area to my left. Engrossed in a romance novel, a late-middle aged woman sat behind a desk. I did not want to startle the woman, so I tried to make a little noise as I approached. 

“Well hey there darlin’,” the lady greeted me kindly. 

For her age, she was quite an attractive woman. I thought her amazingly beautiful blue eyes gave her an angel-like quality. 

“Howdy, my name’s Margret,” she said kindly as she placed her book behind the counter. “How can I help you?” 

I explained to her where I was trying to go. She informed me I was far off the path. 

“See, the problem with those satellite gadgets is they don’t know all the back roads,” she explained. “Ata you leave here, your gonna’ go nineteen miles to da junction ‘a dis road and the highway. Hit L0014, at’ll be on your right. Turn ata way and you’ll be there in a hop, skip, and a jump.” 

Before I turned to leave, I had to inquire as to the nature of the broken cookies. 

“They’re just that,” she replied. “We make one big cookie in a sheet and break it into manageable pieces. They’ve become something of a novelty in these parts.” 

I do have to say I was a bit disappointed when I found out they were literally broken cookies. I cannot say what I was expecting them to be; the name was rather straight-forward. It stood out as odd on their billboards, which I supposed was the whole point. I could not help but wonder how many people stopped here simply because of the unusual advertisement. 

After purchasing a generously filled bag of broken cookies, I thanked the kind lady for her assistance and turned toward the exit. 

“You might wanna’ consider waitin’ till sun-up,” the woman said, almost sounding as if she were warning. “Most people around here are going to be hitting the bed soon.” 

Part of me thought she was only saying that to get me to rent a room for the night. Another part of me took her very seriously. I did not think she was trying to scam me, as she seemed like a very sincere woman. 

“Whilst you’re stayin’ here, you’re more than welcome to browse round our antiques,” she added to seal the deal. 

I decided to accept her advice and procured a room for the night. I drove almost for twelve hours, and I could really use a shower and a comfortable bed. I did not see any problem waiting until morning to reach my destination. I anticipated the room would be rather expensive, but it was no more expensive than a halfway decent motel in the city. 

“How’s about we give you room twenty-two. There ain’t anything on that side to make noise and it’s got a heavenly view,” the woman said. “My boy’ll bring your bags to yer room for ya. When you’re freshed up, maybe ya can come down’n browse the store.” 

I thanked the woman for her generosity, took the key, and made my way to the second floor. It amazed me when I saw the room. I expected it to be nice, but it was truly incredible. It was the kind of room I would expect from a four-star hotel and not at half-star hotel prices. 

Not even five minutes later, the bellboy arrived with my bags. He bore a striking resemblance to the woman downstairs. It was obvious he was her son, nephew, or possibly grandchild. 

I gave the nice boy a ten-dollar tip and inquired as to where I might find a hot meal. 

“Oh, well, we ain’t got no menu. But Grandma can fix up just ‘bout innithin,” he said with a strong southern drawl. “Ya jus’ gonna’ hata order soon though. She don’t like stayin’ up no later than nine.” 

Such Southern hospitality. People up north were never this polite and accommodating. In a B & B, the boarder ate when the food was ready, not the other way around. It sounded like the woman downstairs would prepare me a fresh meal on the spot. 

“Well my boy, you probably know your grandmother’s cooking better than anyone,” I said. “What would you suggest?” 

Without hesitation the lad gleefully said, “I’d pick the lamb wit beans’n rice. A bowl of Momma’s gumbo’d go great wit dat. Aint’z hot’z dem Cajuns make it, but it sho is good.” 

I asked the boy to bring me the meal he recommended and tipped him four more dollars for his kindness and hospitality. 

“Yon’t it now?” 

Trying to act kind, I told the boy that I did not want to rush them. I would take the meal whenever it was ready. He said he would bring it up to me in thirty minutes or so. I could not believe it. For these prices, I was even getting room service. With the right marketing strategies, this place could be a Mecca for travelers in the South. These people seemed perfectly content with what they had. There were only four other cars and a rental truck in the guest parking lot. I did not see how they could possibly make enough money to keep this business up and running. 

Dinner was fantastic. The soup that was called gumbo in the North was nothing like thick stew this woman made. It had to be one of the most exquisite things I ever ate in my life. Like the boy said, the gumbo was hot but not sufferingly so. The beans and rice with the stewed lamb could go for top dollar in any elegant restaurant. 

After I finished the delectable meal, I decided to head back downstairs and browse through the antique collection. The study and toreador of the house were converted into the antique shop. The first object to catch my attention was an obscure artwork that I only ever saw in a book, a very old book. The tome describing the item was so old it was written in a very early English. 

The item consisted of a mass of thin metal bars comprised of a variety of metals. The bars twisted, split, intertwined and again converged with one another. It was a depiction of an ancient god that possessed no corporeal form. Therefore, it was sculpted as things twisting, combining, diverging and reemerging. I tried to stow my excitement as I picked up the object to examine more closely. From what I saw, this was the real deal. This thing was thousands of years old, and these people had it on display with a collection of other, mundane objects. 

This was the find of a lifetime. The family only had it marked for two hundred dollars. There was no doubt that I could resell it for thousands of times that amount. As I searched around some more, I found that almost everything in the shop was underpriced. Some of the things were ridiculously underpriced, so much so that I was confident I could make a great profit from them. 

I found a jasper obelisk standing a little more than a foot tall. The edges were lined with pure silver and dotted with a color sequence of tiny gems. The metal capping the top was very strange. It looked like gold at first, but upon closer inspection I realized it was something altogether different. It almost looked like quartz filled with tiny flakes of gold and platinum. 

Inscribed on all four sides of the obelisk were small, strange hieroglyphs. I knew by their obscurity that the obelisk was four thousand years old at minimum. The type of jasper from which the obelisk was carved was completely mined out even before the birth of Christ. 

I suddenly jumped when I thought I saw something moving behind the stands of rare items, but when I turned my head to look, I saw nothing. I wanted to try to get a look behind the display cases to see whatever it was. Unfortunately, I could not get to it without overturning some of the tables. I was sure it was probably just a play on the shadows, an optical illusion of sorts. Nothing could move back there without at least bumping the tables. 

The last thing I found made me want to erupt with excitement. It was a carving grossly mislabeled as a Chinese bird figurine. The object resembled a glider, the type of glider so popular in the 1980’s, but the aerodynamic design would even be an improvement on today’s predator drones. This thing was incredibly ancient, yet whoever created it had to have a deep understanding of aerodynamics. 

I could see that it was painted over many times, but I was sure of what I was looking at. Another object such as this one was found sealed in a sacred chamber in Egypt. Another was found in a recently discovered pyramid in India. Now I stumbled on a third. 

I continued to casually browse. I did not want to let on to my excitement over these finds. I examined the artwork of twisted metal bars and acted like I thought two hundred dollars was too much to pay. In reality, I knew that I could get millions for it. Finally, I brought the three items, along with some other worthless pieces, and started to the reception desk. 

Through my peripheral vision, I thought I saw a man moving behind the tables in the far corner of the room. Again, when I turned to look, I did not see anything. There was no possible way someone could be back there. The tables were pushed up against the wall. No one or nothing could fit behind there. I watched for a few minutes but saw nothing but the stationary shadows alongside the display cabinets. 

A very polite gentleman, who turned out to be the nice lady’s husband, told me he would pack the items securely and have them ready for me in the morning. As I walked up the stairs to go to my room, I passed another man dressed in business clothes someone would wear forty or fifty years ago. I greeted him with a hello, but he did not respond. 

The older man sitting at the desk said in a quizzical tone, “Hello.” 

I did not know why he thought I was talking to him, but I was tired and was looking forward to climbing onto that large comfortable mattress. I went on to the second floor, got to my room, and hit the bed hard. Bizarre dreams disturbed my night. I did not sleep well at all. I could not remember what my dreams were about, but there seemed to be an ever-present darkness stalking my slumber. I woke up feeling extremely paranoid and nervous. 

My purchases were safely packed in corrugated boxes stuffed with tissue paper waiting for me to pick them up. I asked the man if he would mind helping me carry the more than a dozen boxes to my SUV. He called his son and the two of them lifted up some boxes. The father walked out of the exit first, but then that rude man from last night walked in the door. I almost fell trying to avoid running into the man. 

“Watch where you’re going,” I said to him rather snidely. 

“I’m sorry,” the boy behind me replied. 

I turned to look back, but I saw no one except for the young boy. The man that so rudely pushed his way past me was nowhere to be seen. I thought maybe he went into one of the antique shops as soon as he entered the building. Still, it did not make sense for the lad to respond to me if he saw the man in question. 

The two loaded the packages like professionals, taking great care not to break anything. I gave them each a twenty for their help. What I recognized as appreciation was in fact their eagerness to depart with the three extremely valuable items. I always prided myself as being a good judge of character, but these people had me fooled. 

After the boy brought my bags down to my vehicle; I packed up, thanked the family, and set off on my way. I adjusted the rear-view mirror so that I could take one last look at the kind family. I saw the father, the mother, and the son all standing there. Just to the right of them was that strange dark man with the old hat. I rubbed my eyes and looked again, and the man was gone. 

I am not one to believe in ghost stories, but this guy was really making my skin crawl. I saw him three times, but no one else apparently saw him. Even in this bright daylight, the man appeared to be shrouded in shadow. 

I got back onto the main road and started my journey back home. I did not even continue to go on picking antiques. This find would bring me more money than anything I have found to date. These items were going to make me extremely rich. 

I reached up to adjust the mirror properly and found myself filled with indescribable terror. The shadowy man was sitting in my back seat. I slammed my foot on the brake pedal as hard as I could. Thank God for anti-lock brakes, or I would have probably gone into a skid on this old, worn highway. 

As soon as my vehicle came to a halt, I grabbed my knife from the center panel. With one fluid motion, I flicked the knife open and spun around to put the blade to the man’s throat. When I turned around, no one was there. 

Now I was a logical person. I saw the man last night and twice this morning. Those sightings I could probably rationalize away, but there was no way I could explain what just happened. The only possible explanation I could conceive of was my difficulty sleeping last night and the nature of my dreams were making me see things. 

I was so happy when I finally reached home late that evening. My driveway was such a welcome sight after driving those southern roads. I thought I saw that man once more during my drive. He was sitting at a bench in front of an old gas station. I knew there was no way he could have gotten that far ahead of me, but I was so sure it was him. 

Most of my load I left inside the SUV for the night. The only things I brought in were the three priceless items and one of my old suitcases. I planned to lock the rest of the things in the garage in the morning. For now, the alarm on my vehicle would warn me if anyone tried to steal anything. 

I found no rest that night. I felt something drawing me to the packaged objects I left sitting by the doorway. Eventually I could no longer resist this nagging urge. Moving as quietly as I could, I made my way out of the master bedroom and down the wide staircase. I froze when I thought I heard something below. I swore I heard someone walking around on the squeaky floorboards in the dining room. 

Of the antiques I personally collected, swords were one of my favorites. Beside me on the wall hung a centuries old katana, what most people call a samurai sword, and I cautiously removed it from its stand. Sliding it from its padded scabbard, I went sword leading, making my way down the stairs. I was very mindful in taking care to avoid the squeaky boards. Before I reached the last step, the sound in the dining room stopped. 

At first it seemed nothing was out of place. I could hear nothing, not even someone’s stifled breathing. I turned on the lights and my body almost melted in horror. The three boxes still stood by the door, but all of them were opened. All three of the artifacts were arranged on the dining room table. 

The objects were placed in a triangular shape with the face of each pointing to the center. All the obscuring paint on the mislabeled bird was gone to reveal the jasper figurine underneath. Now I could see that the surface of the glider was covered in those ancient hieroglyphs. I also noticed something I somehow missed before. The warped bars of metal comprising the piece depicting the formless god were engraved with long thin rows of the strange hieroglyphs. Without previously looking at them very closely, I thought the thin lines were no more than added decorations. 

After checking the door to see if it was secured and a thorough search of the first floor, I turned the lights off in all but the living room and the stairwell. I had an intense sensation that someone was staring at me from behind. I turned to look into the dining room and saw something move in the darkness. 

Brandishing my antique sword, I slowly made my way back into the dining room. Approaching the doorway, I reached over and turned on the lights. When the lights came on, they were much dimmer than usual. I thought it might be an electrical problem, and then I noticed a ghastly shadow blocking their glow. 

In the far right corner I saw that dark man. That shadow specter that followed me was now standing in my house. I held the sword up like a baseball bat and demanded he tell me who he was. 

“I am the one who dwells in-between,” he said with a slight northern accent. 

The cryptic response in his raspy voice meant absolutely nothing to me. I stepped forward and brought my sword up as if to swing it and insisted the man tell me who he was. 

“Who I used to be matters not. I am he who dwells in-between,” the shadow man repeated. 

I warned him not to move and shifted the shiny blade so that I could hold it in one hand. My cell phone was in my bedroom, so I reached over and picked up the receiver for the landline. Instead of hearing a dial tone, the phone produced nothing but static. Buried in the static, I could hear a chorus of voices speaking in a garbled tongue. Absolute terror finally took me. My bones tingled and my skin stung. Bursts of light filled my eyes and my soul cowered down to the very deepest of my being. 

When I hung up the phone, I must have taken my eyes off the ghostly man. I looked up, he was right in my face. I swung the sword and hacked a hole in his hip. He did not move at all. I took the sword in both hands, made a two-step backward and ran the blade tip first through his chest. 

Right before my eyes, this man who haunted me began to age rapidly, decaying in only seconds. Before his face was too far gone, the rasping voice said, “Thank you. Now it is yours.” 

The man’s body instantly crumpled into a pile of white dust on the floor. His aura still stood there, and he gazed at me with his heavenly blue eyes. The shadow man nodded his head as if to show me his appreciation and vanished in a wisp of vapor. 

After he was gone, and after I came to my senses, I realized I dropped my valuable sword on the kitchen floor. I knelt down to retrieve it, never taking my eyes off of that awful pile of dust. I must have missed the grip of the sword and I reached again. I could not feel the hilt of the ancient weapon in my hand; I could not even feel the floor. I looked down to see my hand pass through hilt and floor alike. 

Ethereal images of things not there before began to appear. Everything real around me became transparent and murky. The only thing that stood out, the only thing that looked real to me were the shadows. It was into these shadows that I felt myself drawn. I was somehow trapped in a space between spaces, a place that was part of no world but touched upon many. 

Standing in the ghostly image of my house was an obelisk twenty feet high and eight feet wide at the base. A massive door of gold, silver, and that strange metal I saw in the antique shop stood tall on one side of the structure. Also on this obelisk were the same hieroglyphs I saw on the items I purchased yesterday. 

This time I could decipher the writings. Without even knowing what language this was, I was as easily able to read it as I was English. As panic built up inside me, I wanted to turn and run, but where was I going to run. My world was now nothing more than an ethereal specter. 

From this time forth, it was my duty to make sure the door to this massive structure stayed closed. The hieroglyphs gave no indication of what was imprisoned inside the mineral obelisk, but I could not let it out. If the being, force or entity trapped within was ever released, it could bring about the destruction of every world with which this ethereal purgatory connected. In order to enable me to do this, I had to take the place of the former guardian and become that terrifying shadow in the corner.

Copyright © 2018

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Snow Covered Roof

Word Count: 5,993

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
Copyright 2023 ©

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End of the Road

Word Count: 7,100

Nobody believes me. I know everyone thinks I am crazy, but if they saw the things I saw, they would be as terrified of the world as I was. People walked around every day in blissful ignorance, unaware of the evil ceaselessly surrounding them. The townsfolk called me agoraphobic, but it was not the open space that caused my crippling trepidation. I was afraid of what inhabited that space. Demons of darkness walked freely among the people and took joy as they caused pain and misery to everyone they could. 

Most of the world called the misfortunes that happened to them “bad luck.” There was no such thing as luck. Every time someone tripped and fell, every time someone shut their hand in a car door, every time a human was involved in some sort of accident, it was caused by the direct actions of these entities only I could see. Why I could see them and no one else could was something I never discovered. Being ignorant of the horrid, heinous entities all around them, other people looked at my ability as a mental illness. I looked at it as a curse. 

It was sometime when I was a little girl that I began to see these things, these sinister beings roaming the earth. It seemed like so long ago since I last saw what it looked like outside. I had not traveled past the boundaries of my own home in more than ten years. There was too much outside waiting to do horrible things to me, and I could not go out there to willingly expose myself to them. 

Before sequestering myself inside I learned the otherworldly entities stayed away from quartz. When my second sight first began, I discovered I could see the vibrations emanating from certain crystals and precious stones. It did not take me long before I noticed the ebony monstrosities avoiding this one specific mineral. I thought perhaps, in high enough concentrations, the vibrations from these transparent stones caused the dark creatures pain. 

I could not say for certain why they avoided the clear crystal, but I took full advantage of the knowledge. There were quartz crystals in every single corner of my house. I even had them in the corners inside the closets, cabinets and pantry. Stones occupied the corners of every window and the top of the blinds obscuring them. 

The local shopping market delivered my groceries to me every Tuesday and sometimes on Saturday. The owner’s son usually made the deliveries. He was a very nice caring young man who would spend an hour or so talking with me when he came by. I did not care for the owner bringing me my things because he always dropped off my delivery and abruptly departed. Sometimes I felt like he believed he would catch “crazy” from me if he stayed around me for too long. 

Both the grocer and his son knew I hated opening the door. When they arrived and knocked, they allowed me time after unlocking it to get safely away from the opening to the outside world before they entered. I was always afraid that, without the door being closed, one of those malicious interlopers might break the boundaries of the quartz to reach in and get me. There was no way I was going to allow an opportunity for that to happen, and even if they could not get me, I could still see the ghastly nightmares lingering right outside. 

The only other time I ever had visitors was when I needed to call on a repairman for something. On very rare occasions I got a visit from my doctor, but besides that the rest of the time I spent in my house alone. I inherited the large, seven-bedroom home from my grandmother when she passed, along with a substantial sum of money. Those beings of darkness that wander the streets would have surely killed me by now if it were not for what my grandmother left me. 

My house was the second largest house in our lightly populated and widely scattered town. I lived at the end of a long road a little more than a thirty-minute drive through the forest from town. Although there were many houses on this road, no one who lived here ever paid me a visit. They all thought I was insane, and I guess this made them afraid of me. I was the one person they should not be afraid of, but that was fine. More people coming to my house would mean the door would have to be opened more often, and I already wished I never had to open it at all. 

I found many things to occupy my time. I loved knitting, even if I did not have anyone to knit for. All the bedrooms and the four bathrooms in my home were decorated with blankets, doilies and other colorful displays. Reading occupied a lot of my time. I only read books. Magazines, newspapers and anything else with current news caused me too much anxiety. I stuck with the romance and western novels. Science fiction, fantasy and mystery novels I avoided because all they ever did was intensify my apprehension and fear. 

Every so often the grocer’s son would take a list of books I wanted him to purchase for me to the bookstore. He sometimes performed other tasks for me besides bringing my groceries. I always compensated him very well for his time, fuel and gave him money for the books. He was a good kid. If he thought I was paying him too much for the task, he would only accept what he thought he deserved. He was the only person in this world I would turn my back to without fear. 

The young man started delivering my groceries to me when he was sixteen years old, but now he was a high school graduate. He was taking a year off before going to college to save up some money, so in a little over a year I would not have him around anymore. Panic overwhelmed me at the thought of being all alone again. I felt like my world was crashing down at the idea of him not being here. My hands began to tremble, and a few tears ran down my cheek as I tried to calm myself down. 

Even if the grocer did send someone else to deliver to me, would he go to the bookstore or run other errands for me? Would he ever take the time to talk with me? 

I tried not to think about that. It was time for me to eat dinner, so I headed down from the second floor and made my way to the kitchen. The kitchen was originally designed to be used for a large family, but now I was the only one left. I probably did not use ninety percent of the equipment and could not say with any certainty if any of it still functioned. 

A sudden and hard knock on my door startled me so bad I fell to the floor. I was not expecting anyone to come to my house again until next week. My stomach turned and my focus narrowed into a tight tunnel vision as fear gripped me. It felt like electricity was coursing through my body as I tried to pull myself to my feet. Once I was again standing, I reached out and grabbed a small cluster of quartz crystals and hugged it tightly. 

Four more raps at the door came, and I fled to the nearest hiding spot I could. Running into the pantry, I carefully shut the door behind me. Moving as far from the door as I could, I kept my protective crystal bound tightly in my arms. I cowered away for at least thirty minutes after that second knock before I finally mustered enough courage to exit the walk-in pantry. Peeking around the corner of the kitchen, I took a good look at the door. It was still closed, the chains were latched, and the wooden plank was still barricading it, but I could not tell if the deadbolts and the knob were locked from there. 

I hid behind the wall for another ten minutes then cautiously crept forward toward the solid oak door. Once I could see the latches were all turned to the locked position and the chains were all in place, I forgot about cooking dinner and ran upstairs to my bedroom. I locked the door and quickly climbed into my bed. Still shaking from the fright, I balled up against the headboard with my knees pulled up to my chest. Tugging my comforter over me, I covered everything but the top of my head so that I could still see the door. 

After some time, the adrenalin from the fright of hearing that unexpected knock at the door wore off, and I drifted off to sleep. I slept until my alarm clock went off the next morning. After going through my wardrobe looking for something to wear, I headed to the ground floor to prepare myself something for breakfast. I never ate dinner last night, so I was very hungry. Before proceeding into the kitchen though, I had to go into the hall to make sure the door was still locked and barred. Satisfied the portal was well secured, I ate a bowl of cereal as I cooked myself some eggs and toasted some bread. 

Still feeling uneasy about the unexpected knock at the door yesterday, I decided after breakfast to check the windows around the doorway. Every window had glass containing chicken wire, iron bars on the inside and outside, blinds, curtains and finally a wooden stand holding a quartz crystal formation. 

I was extremely diligent not to look past the blinds. The thought of seeing what was lurking right outside, waiting to take revenge on me for avoiding them all these years terrified me to my core. As long as I stayed inside and kept quartz crystals everywhere, they could not get me. I knew they hated me for that. They wanted to pay me back for all the years I stayed out of their reach. 

I felt the bars to make sure they were still firm and intact. After checking the bolts in the wall holding the bars in place, I gave them a strong tug to make sure they were not loose. I could feel the glass through the curtain, but I could not check the bars outside. That was usually one of those kinds of things the grocer’s son did for me. 

The whole ordeal made me very uneasy. My hands were trembling again from anxiety, and I was feeling a bit faint. I poured myself a glass of water, got something to snack on and retired to the library. The library contained more books than would fit on the shelves, and I read every single one of them. Reading was the one thing that truly helped take my mind off of the horrors outside. I could get wrapped up in the fantasy of a romance novel and temporarily forget about all my troubles. 

It was nice to imagine a beautiful open prairie filled with tall waving grass and wildflowers, the sun shining brightly overhead. I would love to sit under a tall shade tree while enjoying a cool breeze. I wished places like that existed in real life, but I knew the truth. There was evil walking around everywhere, and for whatever reason no one else could see it. 

The one place I felt safest was in the library. It was in the center of the house, so I was as far away from any exterior door or window as I could be. I was the most surrounded by quartz crystals in here than anywhere except my bedroom right upstairs. In my library I could fully relax and for a short time forget about all those things that furiously wanted to get inside my house. 

Tuesday arrived, and I was looking forward to seeing the young man who delivered my groceries. He normally came between two and three in the afternoon, but by the time three o’clock came, he still had not arrived. I wondered what could be taking him so long; it was not like him to be late. 

Finally, a few minutes before four, there were three hard knocks at the door. Instantly, I knew something was not right. That nice young man who delivered to me always knocked four times. I stopped my advance toward the door, stepped over to the kitchen, and grabbed a blade from the knife block on the island counter. Picking up the nearest piece of quartz, I started backing my way into the library. 

There were three more solid raps at the door. Nearly jumping out of my skin, I dropped the stone onto the floor. I managed to maintain a firm grip on the knife though. The stone was going to have to stay there because I was not going to throw myself off guard by bending over to pick it up. 

Suddenly I heard someone call out my name. I recognized the voice to be that of the grocer. Once again I heard a knock, and again the grocer called out my name. 

Eventually I answered him and asked him what he wanted. He told me he was here to deliver my groceries. I wondered if this was really who it sounded like, or if something was trying to trick me into letting it in. The grocer should not be delivering my things. He had not delivered my things to me for a long time. His son was always the one who drove my groceries out to me. 

“Do you want your things or not?” he asked in an obviously agitated tone. 

I eventually made my way to the door, removed the wooden bar, unlocked the handle and deadbolts, unlatched the chains and hastily ran over to the staircase. Once I was far away from the door and ready to run up the stairs if need be, I hid the knife I was still holding behind my back and told the gentleman to come in. 

Sure enough, it was the owner of the local grocery market. I cringed as I saw the dark entities crowding around him right outside the doorway. The grocer walked past them completely ignorant of their presence. As he was bringing in the brown paper bags, I asked him if his son was sick today. 

“No,” he replied. “He was approved for a scholarship at the last minute, so he’s going to be heading off to college in a few weeks. He came by the other day to tell you the good news but said you didn’t answer the door. He assumed you were asleep.” 

My head started to spin when he gave me the awful news. The grocer continued talking for a bit, but all I heard was a hollow ringing in my ears. I became dizzy, almost losing my balance. I threw my hands out to grab onto the railing, and in doing so I tossed the knife in my hand to the floor. 

The grocer was visibly disturbed when the ten-inch chef knife fell from my hands, bounced down the steps to the hardwood floor and slid clearly into his view. I did not know what I should do. If I went after the knife to pick it up, he would probably think I was going to try to stab him. 

Should I try to explain to him what I was doing with that long blade in my hands? 

I never got the chance. I was so befuddled; I could not get a sentence out before he quickly told me to have a nice day and excused himself from my presence. He did not even pick up the money I had waiting for him on a table where I always put it for a delivery. Before I went back to lock and bar the door, I waited for a few minutes right where I was to make sure he was not going to come back in. Once I heard his car pulling out of my loose gravel driveway, I ran over to the door and put the wooden bar in position. After that, I secured the other various locking mechanisms. 

I wondered what the grocer was going to do. He was clearly bothered by the sight of the knife falling from my hand. Since he did not take the money for the delivery when he left, it was clear the man only had one thought on his mind. He wanted to get out of my house as quickly as he politely could. 

My entire body began to tremble as I descended into an outright panic. I desperately did not want other people to come to my house, people I did not know. I was shaking so bad I almost collapsed to my knees, but I managed to support myself temporarily utilizing the coat rack adjacent to the door. As soon as I was steady enough, I ran to the library and locked the door behind me. Feeling that was not enough, I braced the knob with a chair and put a chunk of quartz on the seat. 

Climbing into my favorite reading chair, I pulled my knees up to my chest and cried. As I pondered what was going to happen, I began downright sobbing at the prospect of strangers showing up to my home. I got so scared when the grocer knocked at the door, I did not even think to put that knife away before first letting him in. He delivered my things to me for years, so I hoped to everything that was holy he would respect my privacy and leave me alone. 

Reaching over to the table next to me, I removed a bottle of sedatives from the small drawer. Picking up a glass of water I had in here from earlier, I quickly swallowed the small pill and waited for it to take effect. I was seriously considering taking another one, but the pill started to help me calm down half an hour after I took it. 

The minutes passed by agonizingly slow. The soft ticking of the intricately designed wooden clock on the wall behind me sounded as if it were only ticking a few times each minute. I stayed huddled in my chair for hours, but I never heard anyone else at the door. Normally, I could still hear when someone knocked, even locked up in the library. 

When I finally did get up, I found I was rather groggy and a bit off balance. Making my way over to the door on the west wall of the library, I listened with my ear against the door for a few moments before unlocking it. Exiting my reading room into the hall, I rounded the corner and began to make my way up the stairs. Between the sedative and the scare, I did not think to pick the knife up off the mahogany hardwood floor. Instead, I made my way to the second floor and headed straight for my bedroom, which was located directly above the library. 

I turned out the lights, leaving only one dim lamp on. If I did not leave some kind of light on, my room became pitch black. Without any windows in this room, no light made it in from the inside. Once I removed my clothes and got into a nightgown, I climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep. 

The next morning, when I was bringing my breakfast dishes back to the kitchen, a knock at the door startled me, making me scream and drop the dishes in my hands. Broken fragments of ceramic lay scattered about the floor as I realized I recognized the knock. It was the nice young man who helped me so much over the last few years. 

What would he be doing here now? 

Perhaps he was coming back to tell me himself that he was going to be headed off to college. I picked up the larger plate fragments and dumped them in the trashcan. There was another knock at the door, and then the grocer’s son called out my name. 

I did not want any visitors, but I was happy to see him. He was such a good young man. I went to the door to remove the bar and open the locks when I heard another vehicle pull into my driveway. Something was definitely amiss, and I immediately backed away from the door. He knocked several more times, but I did not answer him. 

I slowly and quietly backed my way to the staircase, beyond which was the west door of the library. The grocer’s son quit knocking, and only a few moments later someone much more heavily fisted began pounding on the door. It was the sheriff. He was asking me to let him come in to talk to me, but I did not answer him either. Instead, I went into the library, locked the doors, barricaded them with furniture, and climbed into my reading chair. 

I hummed a few tunes to myself as I picked up the novel I was in the process of reading. I continued to hum to help drown out the sounds of the people banging at my heavy wooden door. Twenty minutes elapsed before I finally heard the wonderful sound of silence. I did not think they were ever going to leave me alone. 

All my hope for humanity died when that young man tried to deceive me into opening my door. He was so good and kind to me over the last few years; I could not believe he would try something so sinister. That young man was fully aware of how leery I was of strangers, and he worked as their pawn to help the so-called authorities get into my home, my sanctuary. It turned out he was not the good kid I thought he was. 

Several days passed and no one returned to my house. I did not know if the grocer was going to deliver to me any more after the knife incident or not. I was sure he was in on the deceit his son and the sheriff tried to perpetrate. He was probably outside with the rest of them as they tried to trick me out of my home. 

If he stopped bringing my groceries and other items, I was eventually going to run out of food along with a lot of other things. I was so confused, and I felt another panic attack coming on. I took a sedative from the table next to my reading chair and walked upstairs. I walked all the way to the third floor to my childhood bedroom and sat amongst my old toys. They brought me a small measure of comfort, but that was all. The porcelain dolls and stuffed animals did not reassure me like they usually did. 

Four days passed, and no one returned to my house. My grocery delivery was supposed to be tomorrow, but I was completely oblivious as to what I should expect. I did not know if the grocer would come, or if he did would he come alone. His son was going off to college in a few days, and I imagined I would probably never see him again. 

If the sheriff came out with the grocery delivery, what was I supposed to do? 

I could not let them in my house, but I could not go forever on the vegetables I canned during the late spring and early summer. I had meats of various sorts in the freezer, but by my best guess that food would feed me until the end of the year when it was cold and snowy. 

It was about an hour before nightfall when I heard a vehicle pulling into my driveway. I recognized the sputtering engine of the truck belonging to the young man involved in the subterfuge to fool me into letting strangers into my home, my sanctuary. A few moments passed then I heard a light knock on the door. Immediately after that he called out my name. 

“I’m so sorry ma’am. I didn’t want to do it, but they made me,” he said through the solid wooden portal. “If you will let me in, I brought you some groceries, some books and a few other things. 

When I did not respond, he said, “I’m alone. I promise.” 

Something in his voice led me to believe he was telling the truth. Making my way over to the door, I removed the wooden bar and undid the other locks. I went over to the stairs where I normally went when letting someone in then called out for him to come in. 

When the door swung open, I could see him carrying a brown paper bag. Another rested on the ground. Picking that one up as well, the young man carried the bags to the island counter in my oversized kitchen. Excusing himself, he went back outside to grab some more. In total he carried ten paper bags into my house. Normally my deliveries were only five, six bags at most. 

The young man apologized repeatedly for his deceit a few days past. He told me the reason and it filled me with unequivocal trepidation. The grocer told the sheriff about the knife, and said he was worried I was going to hurt his son. They wanted to make me attend a competency hearing to determine if I was a threat to myself or others. 

No one else understood me like this young man did. Everyone else thought I was crazy, but he knew that was not the case. Whenever we talked, he did his best to understand me and why I am the way I am. Even after I told him about the shadow creatures that roam the world, causing misfortune to people, he did not treat me any different than before. I did not know if he was playing along with me or if he really believed me. Regardless, he treated me just like anyone else. 

He could not stay long. No one knew he was here, and he wanted to go before anyone realized where he was. The fine young man took the payment for my things, said a long goodbye and closed the door behind him. I ran up behind him and put the wooden bar back across the door and secured all the various locks. 

What was I going to do? 

I could not stay inside my home if I did not have anyone else bringing groceries out to me. It might be possible for me to convert the sunroom into an arboretum so I could grow my own vegetables inside, but that would mean opening my door to contractors and their crews. I never realized how dependent I became on the grocer and his son in order to survive. 

I had not been outside in over a decade, and I was not about to go outside now. I ran the situation over and over in my head as I put away the groceries. One of the bags, instead of containing food, was filled two-thirds full with books. Most of them were clearly used books, but I did not care. Several were books I already owned, and a couple of them were outside my preferred genres. It almost looked like the young man quietly took up a collection for me from some of the other townsfolk, perhaps from some of his friends. 

I greatly appreciated the efforts of the grocer’s son, but I did not know how much good it was going to do me. He brought me enough groceries to last three additional weeks, perhaps more if I rationed my meals carefully. There was still going to come a point when I would need more groceries and other supplies, and I did not know how I was going to do that without allowing in people I did not want inside my house. 

Maybe it would all blow over. If the grocer was worried about his son, he was leaving in a matter of days. I never made any threats to anyone, and I certainly did not pull a knife on the man as he delivered my things. I merely dropped the knife I was already holding when he came into my house. 

The anticipation was crippling as I waited for the normal day of my grocery deliveries. I did not need groceries at the time, but that was information I was not going to tell anyone. If they knew I did not need anything, they may put two and two together and figure out the grocer’s son was here. 

Tuesday arrived, and I was on pins and needles all day. I tried to go about my usual routine, but I could not get my mind off what might happen. I did not know if the grocer would even come, and if he did, I did not know if he would bring anyone with him. When the day was approaching late afternoon, I sat on the large staircase and waited to see if anyone was going to knock on the door. I remained seated on the steps for an hour and a half before I finally heard a knock at the door. 

Even though I was expecting this visit, it still brought sparks to my eyes and made my skin crawl to hear him pounding on the door. My stomach wrenched as I moved close enough for him to hear me. I called out loudly and asked who it was, even though I knew it was the grocer. He answered back and confirmed his identity. Next, I asked who else was with him, but he assured me he was alone. 

I was filled with intense consternation at the thought of letting the man in my house. I did not think I could trust him like I could his son. I would not be surprised if he had the sheriff with him, and I could not look out the window to confirm he was alone. I knew he would not wait forever though, so I had to make a decision fast. 

Suddenly a thought occurred to me. I asked him if he could take them into the garage and leave them there. That way he would still be bringing the groceries into my house, but I was not giving him access to the interior of my home. I did not like going in the garage, but I would rather do that than step outside to get my groceries. 

To my surprise and relief, he said he would be happy to oblige. I told him I had the payment for the delivery last week and for this one, and I was going to place it outside the door that led from the house to the garage. He seemed fine with this, so I was inclined to believe him when he said he was alone. It looked like this was all going to blow over after all. 

I felt so relieved after today’s delivery. I was sure they were going to try to trick me into letting the sheriff into my house, but they did not even attempt to get in. Maybe the grocer realized I was not trying to hurt anyone and had the sheriff back off. 

I slept easy for the next few nights. With the sheriff and the competency hearing off my mind, I was once again able to relax inside my own home. By the time the weekend was over, I read three of the books the young man brought me. The books he gave me outside my genre I added to a box of similar books upstairs. 

Monday came, and I was feeling much better than in the previous weeks. I woke up that morning refreshed, hungry and full of energy. After getting dressed, I headed downstairs to the kitchen to fix myself something for breakfast. I decided since I was feeling so well this morning, I would cook myself something special. Eggs benedict were my favorite, so I decided to dirty up a few pots and make some. That was something I had not cooked in quite some time. It was a delicious breakfast and a great way to get the day started.  

I only finished cleaning the kitchen a few minutes before I heard a vehicle pulling into my driveway. I anxiously held my breath until there was a loud knock at the door. 

“Ma’am, it’s the Sheriff,” a voice called through the door. “I have a warrant to take you to the courthouse ma’am.” 

A few seconds passed and the sheriff said, “Ma’am, I know you are in there. I have a warrant to take you to see a judge for a competency hearing. I got the warrant a couple of weeks ago, but I waited to serve it on you today, so I did not have to keep you away from your home any longer than necessary.” 

What the grocer’s son told me was true. I had to go in front of a judge and prove I was not crazy. I was not crazy; the problem was the vast majority of people were too limited in their perception to see what was right in front of them. As I stood frozen, trying to think of what I should do, there was another knock at the door. 

“Ma’am, please,” the sheriff said. “If you won’t come out, I am going to have to force my way in. I know that won’t be easy and quite frankly I have no desire to damage your lovely home.” 

Oh, how I so desperately hoped this was all going to blow over, but it looked like I was going to have to leave my home one way or another. If I did not go willingly, they would eventually extract me forcefully, and that would probably cause me to lose the hearing without a doubt. Finally, I answered the sheriff and asked him how long we were going to have to stay gone. 

“The hearing is in three hours, so we don’t have to leave right now. We can wait another hour if you want. I don’t know how long your hearing will take, but the courthouse closes at five o’clock. It won’t be any later than that.” 

I asked him if I had to open the door and let him in right now. He told me no, not if I did not want to. The sheriff said he did not mind waiting outside, but in an hour I was going to have to open the door. I agreed to his terms and told him I would unlock the door in one hour. 

Pacing back and forth in the hallway, I began to weep. Salty tears ran down my cheeks as I thought about what was outside waiting for me. I was not sure if I could actually go through with this. He was not just asking me to leave my house, he was going to take me into town. Butterflies churned in my stomach and my head felt as if it would float away. Although it only seemed like I paced around for a few minutes, the sheriff knocked on the door and told me the hour was up. 

I said I would be there in a moment, while I stood as if my feet were glued in place. Shifting my feet one inch at a time, I slowly crept my way to the door. The thought of what was waiting for me out there scared me more than anything else in this world. If I did not go, they would force me out and probably hold me at the hospital or something until I had the opportunity to see a judge. 

Who knows how long I would be separated from my sanctuary then? 

I picked up and put a few pieces of quartz in my pockets, and I always wore a necklace and bracelet made of the crystal. I prayed these trinkets would be enough to hold those entities of darkness at bay. I knew they resented me for discovering how to hold them back, and I had very little doubt they wanted to get back at me for it. 

My hands trembled violently as I removed the heavy wooden bar from the door. Clumsily I dropped the wooden plank to the floor causing enough noise for the sheriff to hear it. Before I could try to begin unfastening the other locks, he asked me if everything was alright. I told him I was okay, that I was only trying to get the door unlocked. I unlatched the chains, but I could not bring myself to release the deadbolts still holding the door secured to the wall. 

I began crying over the thought of what awaited me just outside the door. I know the sheriff thought he could keep me safe, but he was blissfully unaware of the evil beings all around him. Feeling my legs growing weak, I turned and leaned against the door I was too terrified to open. A few minutes passed, and the man outside called for me again. 

“Ma’am, are you coming out?” he inquired. 

I told him I could not do it. He assured me he would be with me the entire time, and I had nothing to worry about. Fighting through my tears and quivering lips, I told him there was no possible way he could give me such a guarantee. 

“Please, just come out,” he said. “I promise I will do everything in my ability to keep you safe, but you have to come out.” 

Reaching up and grabbing the doorknob tightly, I used it to help me get back to my feet. Struggling to get past my crippling fear, I unlocked the deadbolts one at a time. All that was left was to unlock the doorknob and expose myself to the evil outside. 

Why could they not leave me alone? 

They did not know about the things outside waiting to make me suffer for holding them at bay for more than a decade, but I did. Finally, I turned the lock on the doorknob and gripped the knob so hard my knuckles turned white. I begged the Sheriff one last time not to make me leave my house, but he continued to insist. 

Turning the knob I held firmly in my hands, I slowly pulled the door open. There stood the Sheriff in his uniform surrounded by at least a dozen of the wretched demons. Their black shapeless forms defied the light. Their bodies did not reflect the light but instead absorbed it, so they appeared as nothingness. 

Seeing the shapes surrounding the man, I began to scream and fell back into my house with my eyes closed tightly. He was quick to react and was on the floor holding me almost immediately. I know the Sheriff was a good man, and he had no desire to hurt me. I wished others could see these beings of the netherworld, but if they did the world would probably cease to function. 

Helping me to my feet, the lawman told me I did not have to look. He gently put one arm around my shoulders and held my hand with the other. One small step at a time, he led me out the front walkway over to his vehicle. The things could not touch me because I was protected by my crystals, but I also knew without looking they were trying to figure out how to get me. 

It felt like hours before we finally reached the sheriff’s large pickup truck. He was very kind and patient with me, which is a courtesy I did not think I would receive if I made them force me out of my home. After helping me into his vehicle and buckling my seatbelt, he closed the door and quickly ran around to the other side. 

I was very familiar with the sound of a vehicle driving on my loose stone driveway, so when we hit the paved road, I knew where we were without looking. I knew where we were, but I looked up anyway. I was used to hiding from the world, not shutting my eyes to it. When I glanced up, I saw one of those things standing in the road. It was reaching up with, for lack of a better word, its hands, and it was in line with the sheriff. 

They could not harm me directly, so they were going to hurt me by killing the man driving the truck. I could not let that happen. Not thinking about myself for once in my life, I unbuckled my seatbelt and grabbed the steering wheel. The sheriff did not have time to react before I took hold of the steering wheel and pulled hard in my direction. 

The creature came only inches away from hurting the man who was only doing his job, but thanks to me opening my eyes in time he was still alive. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about me. I swerved the vehicle away from that horror and kept it from getting the sheriff, but when I pulled the vehicle to the right, I drove us straight into a tree. 

The truck stopped at the tree, but I continued forward at our driving pace. Without my seatbelt to hold me in place, I crashed through the windshield and rolled down the hood. Striking my head and upper torso against the tree with incredible force, I shattered my skull and ribcage before the inertia sent me spinning to the ground. Those things gathered around my mangled, lifeless body sharing a sense of glee at my demise. They reveled in the knowledge they finally caused the death of someone who kept them away for so long. 

I was pronounced dead on the scene. Because of my actions a man was still alive, but no one would ever remember it that way. There was no way anyone could know what really happened. In this little town spread throughout the forest, everyone would forever speak of me as that crazy lady at the end of the road.

Copyright 2023 ©

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Beautiful Island Cove

Word Count: 6,007

The salty aroma of the briny water filled the warm air of the small coastal city. The white granite stone buildings hanging on the face of a steep slope formed a crescent wrapping around the sandy beach of the island cove. Fishing boats were returning to the port later than they did for many generations as the catches seemed to be growing thin. The hope was casting their nets further out would allow the fish population closer to the island to recover. The city’s dense populous was very dependent of fish and kelp as staple foods. 

Tenements built along the hillside allowed very little room for any form of lawn or garden, and the steep slope would make tending to them a difficult task indeed. The narrow rectangular homes were one to three levels in height, built with adjoining walls, and most of the shorter homes had more houses constructed on top them to maximize the usable living space. There was no flat land, apart from the beach, within miles of the sandy, rock-walled cove. Riding animals up and down the steep and sometimes slick cobblestone streets could be perilous. The safest and most efficient way to get around town was on foot. 

Trails led from the top of the hillside all the way down to the wharf, winding through large breaks between the homes left to allow for such paths to exist. Most of the walkways consisted of stairs either artistically etched directly into the bedrock or constructed from the granite stone that made up much of the island. Granite worked well as the grainy surface helped grip the leather soles of shoes and provide traction, but after centuries of use, the stones wore smooth in places. Certain sections could be outright dangerous on rainy days, especially if someone did not know where the slickest spots were. 

Although not part of the original design, wooden handrails were added to some of the more dangerous sections after several fatal falls happened two winters in a row. In the heavy rains of the cooler months, the trails could become difficult to navigate. Virtually everyone in the city was either a carpenter, mason, fisherman or metal worker, so constructing the handrails only took one summer. The process of grooving the stones so they once again provided strong traction took much, much longer as there simply were not enough people to spare for such a daunting task. 

For all the time I was alive, I can remember them working on the surface of the ancient stairways. The first time I obtained monetary employment was only a month before my eleventh birthday, and that was working carefully on the stone steps with a small hammer and chisel. Many my age did this kind of work, which taught us the value of determination and the satisfaction of seeing our work completed. By most children’s thirteenth birthday, they no longer worked in the community but instead obtained an apprenticeship with one of the city’s many artisans. 

My skills with the chisel and hammer showed great promise, and I was offered an invitation into the stone mason’s guild. For the first six months, I worked with a small crew replacing some of the old stairs that were too far gone to be repaired. I wanted to build dwellings and carve artwork from stone, but I guess I had to work my way up first. By the time we finished the new section of stairs, it was a work of art in its own right. 

Together we added designs and patterns both as a safety measure and to enhance the beauty of the area. Each step displayed the individual craftsmanship of each worker on the crew. The patterns allowed for additional grip and for more efficient water drainage during the rainy season.  

I was sitting at a short wall where my friends and I gathered together after dark one day for a brief period of socializing before we returned to our homes. I typically worked from dawn to dusk six days of the week, but I did not complain because my family desperately needed the extra income. My father fell ill the previous winter and was unable to perform his duties at the shipyard. The money my mother and sister earned on woman’s wages was simply not enough. Being that I was gifted with such talent when it came to working with stone, I earned a few more coins a week than most people at my level. 

After I returned home, I decided to stay outside a bit longer and enjoy the night air. I was not yet sleepy, and the cool breeze blowing up the hill from the sea felt wonderful on this late summer night. I sat on the wall that held the level of our family lot a few feet above the cobblestone street. The moon was almost full, and its reflection danced gently on the relatively calm waters of the cove. This was a sight I always enjoyed. The overall beauty of this aesthetically splendorous city on the hillside and the magnificence of the ocean made it worth all the work it took to live here. 

I noticed a faint glow emanating from the water near the center of the cove. Initially I thought it was no more than the light of the iridescent moon dancing on the water’s surface, but this faint blue glow remained unwavering in the water. It was obvious whatever this was glowing in the water was rising from the depths as it continuously grew brighter and brighter for several minutes.  

Although it got close, I was sure it never reached the water’s surface. I saw no rippling to indicate it did. Many times I heard the tales of the fishermen describing extraordinary creatures that produced their own incandescent display, but I never saw anything like it myself. On occasion I found a dead gelatinous sea creature washed up on the beach, but those were exceedingly smaller than what I was seeing now. To give it my best guess, I would say this illumination in the waters of the cove was nearly an arm span in width. 

Stunned and unsure what to think, I watched the thing in the water begin moving toward shore. Initially it moved very slowly, but it picked up speed as it headed toward the shipyard. At top speed it probably moved as fast as a skilled swimmer in calm water. After several minutes it disappeared under the concealment of the fishing boats that filled that section of the cove. I continued to watch for anything out of sorts for another ten minutes without seeing anything more before finally heading off to bed. 

The next morning the whole town was abuzz with talk of two fishermen who went missing some time during the night. The men were working long after dusk aboard the deck of their boat, and neither man returned home. They could not be found anywhere, which was abnormal on its own, but what sent chills down my back was what they found on board the ship. Although there were a few things knocked over and in disarray, there did not appear to be any significant sign of a struggle. All their clothes, all their belongings they had on them at the time were found in two piles aboard the deck. It was as if the men simply vanished, and their possessions dropped right where they were. 

Immediately upon hearing about what happened, I headed straight for the Constable’s building. Having worked so much on the city’s staircase system, I was very familiar with all of the pathways. I knew which paths, alleys or roads to take to get to my destination as fast as possible. More people than usual for this time of day were out on the streets because word of the macabre incident spread quickly. I was at the Constable’s office within thirty minutes of hearing what happened. 

I was shocked to find a crowd surrounding the doorway. Apparently, I was not the only one to witness that strange glow in the water last night. At least twenty people filled the law-enforcement official’s office, and three dozen more waited outside. I waited for a long time in an attempt to have my experience put on record, but when it started getting closer to mid-day, I decided they had enough accounts. There was probably nothing I could tell the authorities that those other witnesses did not, as I did not see anything beyond a strange illumination in the cove. 

On my way to my current worksite, I began to worry. Not once since I first began to work chiseling grooves into the granite stairs was I late for work, and I arrived very late today. I worried about losing my good standing in the guild for my extreme tardiness, but I was not the only one who did not make it to the work site on time. These disappearances in the shipyard had the whole city upset, scared and wondering what could be capable of doing such a thing. 

We did not get much work done during the remainder of the day. Everyone was talking about the two missing men and the strange light seen in the water. Fear quickly tightened its malign fists over the whole city as speculation led to rumors causing the story of the incident to change and magnify as the day went on. Those of us who arrived to work today tried to keep in the loop for what we hoped to be an update on the news. 

By the time the day came to an end, we heard so many different stories of what happened in the cove last night, I did not know what to believe. I knew once nightfall hit, we would hear no official word from the town criers at least until sometime the next morning. I could not think of one time in my life when the town criers went out at night. 

Our entire work crew was performing sluggishly the next day. They, as did I, stayed up late last night watching over the cove for any strange lights. Most of the city was up watching for something abnormal to appear, but the entire night passed without incident. We tried to get as much constructed as we could, but we were far from meeting our mark when the day came to an end. We had to push ourselves hard for the next few days to get caught back up to schedule. 

Several days passed without a statement from the Constable or any news from the town criers, and the population began to grow agitated with the lack of official information. Endless rumors already spread regarding the disappearance of the two fishermen, and now rumors were beginning to circulate regarding the city officials’ apparent silence on the matter. The Constable obviously picked up on the extreme tension building among the city’s residents, because he sent the town criers out the next day. 

The criers did not tell everyone what happened to the two men as we all hoped. Instead, there was a brief mention of the happening and then reassurances of the precautions being taken to ensure this incident did not repeat itself. Armed men were patrolling the cove and someone was posted to the lookout station at the top of the hill ready to sound the labraphone to alert the population of any danger. When sounded, the horn echoed through the cove waking anyone who was not already so. Torches lined the beach to aid with visibility at night, and the oil cisterns at the top of the hill would be lit to help illuminate the entire city. 

Needless to say, the public was not happy with the announcements. Everyone hoped for some answer concerning the details of the aberrant disappearance of the two fishermen. Although not happy with the news, the people of the city were glad to finally get an announcement of some sort. Knowing this was better than knowing nothing at all. 

Officials asked for any men of fighting age to take their turn patrolling the beach or manning the lookout post with its massive horn. The long horn was carved from the trunk of a single tree, and when blown created a nearly deafening roar that was easily heard all throughout the city. No one was required to volunteer, but according to the criers, the city wanted to muster together as many fighting men as possible. The time for organization was now before something else happened and not after it was too late. 

I still had little over a year before my fifteenth summer, so I was not allowed to join the fighting men. I did however sign up to cover several shifts at the lookout post. The building was still sturdy and the interior was in order. It was so long since the post was used though, dust coated every horizontal or diagonal surface in the structure. I was rather relieved my time to serve as lookout was still a few days away. Those before me should have it cleaned by the time it came my turn to watch. 

Tension laid across the city like a wool blanket. Everyone was afraid of what might come out of the water and what it might do to us. The fishermen were extremely reluctant to go out into the open ocean to practice their trade, but they really did not have much of a choice. Fish was our primary source of food. A few shepherds tended to flocks in the long valley on the other side of the island, but they were primarily raised for their wool. We could not turn to them as a primary food source. 

The fruit trees on the island provided a hefty bounty, but it could take days to gather enough to return to the city to sell. Some fruits lasted a week or two after being picked, but some only lasted a few days. For the gatherers these could bring in a very generous profit, but the chance of the fruit spoiling before it could be sold made such an option very risky. The safest way for them to make a steady income was to sell the fruits taken from the trees rather than shrubs and bushes. 

Without the fish, there simply would not be enough food to sustain the people of the city. The boats went out with extra crew armed with harpoons and spears in case whatever took those first two men tried to take them too. This fear and paranoia went on for several more weeks, but when the four-week mark from the day of the incident arrived, people began to relax again and let down their guard. 

Five days later, a few hours after dark, I was working my third shift at the watchtower. No one saw anything glowing in the water since the night of the incident four weeks ago. At this point it was getting to where people were not expecting anything else to happen. That turned out to be nothing but false hope. 

There was another man with me, and we talked about whatever we could think of to keep ourselves awake. I was sitting at the massive window in the bunker when I suddenly noticed what I thought was possibly glowing under the water. After a few seconds I saw two more spots. Immediately I screamed for my partner to blow the horn. He sat there for a moment as if he did not believe me, and I shouted at him again to sound the alarm. 

Frantically he scrambled to the mouthpiece of the gigantic instrument and began to blow. The sound was so loud, it was deafening from where I was standing. I covered my ears with my hands, but that did not provide much protection. Not once in my lifetime has anyone blown the labraphone for any reason, so I was not expecting it to blast as ear-stingingly loud as it did. 

I could not hear anything, but I could see the men gathering on the beach with their weapons in hand. As my companion continued to sound the booming alarm, people began coming out of their homes and gathering in groups. Some carried harpoons and spears while everyone else carried whatever they could find. Residents collected at specified places creating large crowds in multiple locations throughout the city. 

When the deafening roar of the labraphone came to an end, and my hearing began to return somewhat, I could hear others blowing smaller horns. It was not really necessary, but the tones helped boost the morale of the people of the city in anticipation of whatever was about to happen. 

My companion in the watchtower assured me he would be able to keep blowing the massive horn a few more times, so I grabbed my hammer and scurried down the hill to join some of the others. All the able-bodied men, and some of the women, from this part of the city gathered in the street not far from my home. Ready to do what I had to in order to protect my city, my home, I joined the crowd and found who had taken charge. 

From our current position, we could all see the light in the cove moving toward the beach this time. A dozen armed men, some of them also wielding shields, awaited the arrival of this dreaded intruder. When the gelatinous creature reached land, it slithered its way across the sand toward the nearest group of men. Outside of the water, the transparent mass outshined the torches lining the beach only twenty paces from the first row of buildings. 

Several of the men threw their harpoons at the abomination from the ocean’s depths, but they did not seem to faze the creature in the slightest. Instead of causing the creature harm, the transparent blob rapidly dissolved the harpoons leaving it behind as rust when it moved on. The creature suddenly stopped where it was and became motionless. Everyone thought it was probably unable to survive outside the water, and the men on the beach halted their retreat. 

Everyone watched helplessly in horror as the thing from the sea lashed out a tendril that engulfed the closest man’s legs. Before he had time to scream in terror and pain, his body converted into a transparent gelatinous mass. The creature absorbed the gel that was once a man and left all the man’s clothes and possessions lying in a heap on the ground. 

The other men on the beach threw their weapons at the amorphous creature in a futile attempt to injure the horrible thing from the deep. After disarming themselves, the men turned in a desperate attempt to save their own lives and ran as fast as they could. Two of the men were not fast enough, and the creature lashed out with several tendrils which converted their bodies to a gelatinous mass as it did with the first man. 

At this point the entire city was in a panic. People rushed into the narrow streets trying to make their way up the hill. Never before did the city ever need to be evacuated, so it was not constructed with this need in mind. Residents slipped on the cobblestone roads, and the panicked mob behind them did not stop to help them up. Dozens of people were trampled to death as the terrified crowd tried to make their way up the hill. 

I was helping my mother and sister get my father out of the house so we could get him to safety when I saw several more circular lights moving in the cove. People were screaming and fighting with one another as they tried to force their way up the streets and pathways. The pathways were even worse than the winding streets since they were constructed at a much steeper slope. 

I could not see the first creature to wriggle its way onto the beach any longer. I thought perhaps it headed back into the water, but then I saw a bright green glow coming from between some of the buildings closest to the cove. Whatever these things were, it was clear they had the ability to survive outside the water for short periods anyway. 

I knew of a pathway that was rarely used, and I hoped I could get my family to it and out of the city. We only had to get Father two tenements further up the hill, and then I was sure we could get him and ourselves to safety. To accomplish this, we were going to have to fight our way through the crowd until we could turn off onto a rarely used road where we could make our detour. 

A population that worked together so well for countless generations was now shoving and elbowing each other in a vain attempt to get just a little further up the hill. If everyone would only calm down, the exodus of residents would go much smoother. In their panic though, the normally cooperative people were ready to kill to get a few feet further ahead. 

Struggling to move with the flow of people while supporting my father was extremely difficult, and at times was almost impossible. My mother was in front of him so he could support himself by holding her shoulders while I walked beside him with my arms wrapped under his. My sister remained wedged between me and my mother. 

More of the creatures made it to shore and were overtaking the panic-stricken people closest to the cove. We could hear the people screaming, crying out in absolute terror for help as the glowing entities reached them and began to “feed.” Their voices could even be heard over the crowd surrounding us, then suddenly the lower section of the city fell silent. 

I felt a small sense of relief when we finally reached the smaller road. There were not many people using it because in this section of the city the road sloped downward a bit, and everyone was trying to push their way upward. This road was almost exclusively used by laborers, so not many people knew their way around here like I did. Now only passing the occasional terrified citizen, we were able to get my father to the closed pathway. 

No one was using this pathway at all because it was barricaded in most sections. Since this was the pathway on which I worked for the past six months, I knew it was almost totally complete. There would be a few places that would present us problems, but at least we were no longer having to fight the crowd of residents fleeing for their lives. 

The pathway between the rows of tenements was steep, which normally would not be a problem. After years of walking up and down steep hills, paths and staircases, one grew accustomed to it. My father’s poor health and weak physical state made what would normally be an easy task into a very difficult one. 

I stayed above and helped lift father up the path, and Mother and my sister stayed behind him to provide support. We reached a particular section that allowed me a wide view of the city. I could see at least a dozen places aglow with that eerie green light, which meant there were at least a dozen of those things already in the city. I could see more lights in the still water of the cove that were making their way to shore. 

For gelatinous creatures clearly out of their element, they were closing in on us quickly. If we did not pick up our pace, they would eventually catch up to us. I had my father wrap his arms around my neck while my mother and sister supported his legs. This allowed us to move a little bit faster, but I was not sure it was going to be enough. It was not long at all before this became too difficult to continue doing. 

I had no choice but to have to stop for a moment to catch my breath. Even if it was only going to be a few seconds, I had to stop because of the pain this was causing in my back. This was when my father said the words I did not want to hear. Father said there was no choice but to leave him behind. Without him we could escape. 

I told him I was having none of that; I was getting him out of here. 

He smiled proudly at me and said, “I had a really good life. I have a strong son who is growing into a strong man. Protect your mother and sister.” 

With that he pulled away from me and lunged down the stone staircase. I could see him break his neck on his second tumble as it suddenly moved in ways it should not. I yelled; I yelled at him and for him. There was absolutely nothing I could do, and I cursed myself for not holding on to him tighter. I was supposed to be helping him get out of the city. I was not supposed to allow him to fall to his death. 

My mother began crying hysterically, and I could not get her to listen to me. It gave me no pleasure at all to do so, but I had to give her a firm slap on the cheek to get her to finally settle down enough to pay attention to me. My father charged me with one last task, and I was not going to dishonor his memory by failing. I did not care what I had to do; I was going to get my mother and sister out of here. 

It was obvious by the increasing light the creatures were closing in on us. Since I could not see them directly, I did not know how many of the gelatinous horrors now occupied the city. I could tell, though; by the number of streets illuminated that many more came out of the water to join the ranks of this invasion. 

I got my mother and sister up the ledge and we were again running up the stairs. I stayed in the rear so I could protect them, although I had no idea what I would do if we did encounter one of these things. After seeing how that man’s harpoon skewered harmlessly into the sea monster’s transparent body, I did not believe there was any weapon I could find that would hurt these things. 

I tried to block out the terrified screams coming from the main road winding through the city. So many people were fighting each other in a race to get over the top of the hill, it made my stomach turn. Those creatures were consuming people one after another, and the people were killing each other trying to get away from them. 

Eventually our pathway came to an end in front of a row of large stone tenements. We had two choices before us. We could go to the right which would take us to the main road connecting the top of the city to the port, or we could take the alleyway to the left where we would find another ascending path in about forty yards. 

I knew the main road was out of the question as everyone in the city tried to force their way through the crowd. The only real option was to turn to the left and head for the next path. We only had three rows of buildings left until we reached the top of the hill. Fleeing from the top would be much easier than climbing up the pathway to get there. We were only a few steps into the alleyway, and I could see down the path where my father died was one of those things rippling like water as it oozed its way up behind us.  

Only a second later a group of people emerged screaming from between two buildings on the path I was trying to get my mother and sister to so we could finish our climb. Another one of those horrors from the deep was not close enough to them that I could see it yet, but its haunting green iridescence announced its presence. We were going to reach the pathway before the others, but I held my mother and sister back. I knew in their panicked state, this group would have thrown us aside in their attempt to get ahead. I decided we were safer behind them than in front. 

The gruesome monstrosity appeared between the buildings just as the group made its way past us. The abomination lashed out with an oozing tendril and struck the last one of the group in the back. I clearly saw the look of terror on the man’s face as he was only ten feet away from me. His body literally became transparent and colorless right before my eyes, and then the beast from the ocean absorbed his mass through its tendril into its body. 

Suddenly the glowing monster began to quiver and vibrate, slowly at first but with increasing speed. I rushed my mother and sister up the stairs as I did my best to keep an eye behind me. Even though I was unable to stare at the thing, I could see enough to know what was happening. The creature’s gelatinous body started to divide. That was how they were overtaking the city so quickly. After they absorbed enough mass, they divided and multiplied. The more people they consumed, the more of the ungodly things there were. 

Another family came scrambling from behind the next row of tenements calling out for help. There was nothing I could do to help them, and I had my own family to worry about. They did not make it to the steep pathway until we already made it to the next row of buildings. That was not soon enough, and the two new creatures down below caught up to them.  

We heard their screams, their terrified screams for help, and then they suddenly fell silent. I knew they were dead without looking. I knew in only seconds the creatures would consume the bodies, and if they did not reproduce, they would be coming up for us in no time. I could only hope the fact there were six people in that family would slow their progress even a little. 

With only one row of buildings left between us and the top of the hill, I could feel the freedom like I could feel my own pain. I knew the creatures were close behind us, and I looked for anything, and may the gods forgive me, anyone I could throw to slow their progress. The only thing I saw worth grabbing was a lantern someone discarded next to the path. 

Quickly I turned and threw it behind me before resuming my climb. There was a loud steady hiss, like wet wood placed in a fire. Sure I did nothing but anger the thing, I waited for that transparent tentacle to grab me from behind. We were almost to the very top when I turned to see what was happening. 

Both creatures lost their luminescence and were instead now burning with a low blue flame. I started screaming to anyone who could hear, anyone who would listen that fire was their weakness. Some people heard me, igniting and throwing what they could. Some were throwing lanterns and torches at the sea beasts, but it was not enough. We could not get enough of a spread on the flames to hold the creatures back. 

There was only one thing left we could do. I, along with a dozen or so others, picked up a log that was to be used for lumber and began to pry the base of one of the cisterns off the ground. The flaming cauldron was full of oil which would cover the ground if only we could turn it over. Several of the glowing horrors were almost within striking distance of us when the large apparatus began to tilt. Oil splashed from the rim of the cistern and set the ground before us ablaze. Reeling back from the flames, the creatures ceased their advance. This gave us the time to fully turn the huge clay container over until it began to roll down the steep hill. 

The black earthen cistern did not break when it fell to the next level like we expected, but instead began careening down the pathway that brought my family and I up to the top edge of the city. As it rolled, the massive vat threw burning oil all over the buildings setting row after row of tenements ablaze. Confronted with the flames, the monsters from the ocean began to retreat. 

The creatures that did not retreat quickly enough were ignited upon contact with the boiling hot, flaming oil. A second cistern rolled off its base as another group followed our lead. Within minutes our entire city was engulfed in flames.  

We watched helplessly as the gelatinous blobs returned to the sea, and our city, everything we had burned. I never would have imagined turning over the cisterns would cause such damage. I thought the fire would remain mostly confined to the top row of buildings since I did not expect the massive clay cauldrons to roll down the pathways as they did. The flames reached heights I did not think possible. The heat grew intense fast, and we had to retreat down into the valley on the other side of the hill. 

We remained deep in the valley until we saw only small plumes of smoke rising from the cove face of the hill. Families huddled together, some crying and some in a total state of shock. Everyone had difficulty coming to grips with the entire situation. Nothing so tragic ever happened in the history of our culture, and the surviving residents tried to cope with the horrific events as best they could. 

The fires continued for three days. The blaze did not stop until there was nothing left but the boats in the harbor. The stone walls of the buildings were charred and black but remained mostly intact. Beyond that there was nothing left. Not even half of the residents made it out alive. The rest were consumed by the alien invaders or trampled to death by other citizens as they tried to flee in the chaos. 

By the time the fires ended, there were no bodies left to give a proper disposal. So many people died. It was staggering, difficult to comprehend. Our friends and families fell victim to the illuminated horrors and the consequences of mass hysteria. We could not bear the pain of rebuilding our once glorious city. Almost unanimously the population of the island decided to leave the home our ancestors lived in for centuries, and set sail for a distant island chain. 

We loaded enough livestock for breeding when we arrived, and any nautical equipment that was not destroyed in the fire. Taking every boat we had, we said goodbye to our home and set sail. Our beautiful, sculpted city was now nothing but a hollow shell of blackened walls.  

With great sadness and heavy hearts, we left behind all we ever knew. The reason for the sea creatures’ assault remained a mystery to us. It never occurred to us that, when we over fished the waters, we were depriving anything else of sustenance. We were not attacked out of anger from the gods, or an invasion of gelatinous monsters. It was our fault. We depleted the waters of the giant schools of fish that once swam here. All they were doing was protecting their food source. Because of our ignorance, we had to say goodbye forever to our beautiful island cove.

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