The Village

Word Count: 5,282

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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