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Writer's pictureS.S. Fitzgerald

Hero's Downfall

Dan rose early. A light sprinkling of rain left an early morning dew that still dripped off the leaves. Mist still gently lingered, trying to fight against the subtle easing of the sun rising and piercing the canopy. Dan stood on the porch of his newly erected cabin, watching the mist recede under the sun’s rays. It was peaceful and calming. But his bones still ached, rigid to their memories.

                His bones still remember. A chill of worry slithered up his spine whenever he saw wet conditions. It was 1803, and the war had been over for twenty years, but his body couldn’t let go of the lessons. When he served under ‘the devourer of villages,’ the man who had become their first President, wet, misty conditions were dangerous. Powder for the muskets would get damp and fail to work when the enemy was right before them. It had almost spelled disaster for them several times. A moment stood out among the others. The Iroquois had sided with the British, prompting General Washington to order General Sullivan to devastate the Iroquois settlements.

                As General Sullivan put the Iroquois lands to the torch, a British contingent received word and was on the move to attack the Continental forces. Dan was tasked with intercepting the British. Wet misty conditions that morning, eerily similar to the weather he watched, had soaked the powder on both sides. Few volleys were fired, and with no other choice, the two sides clashed. Bayonets clattered, as wood and metal met flesh and bone. Decimated, his Continental militia stood victorious over the dead. Many of Dan’s men had been cut down. Those who remained were wounded, or vomiting from the exertion the melee had left. Dan himself had not escaped unscathed either. He had been slashed across his chest, stabbed in the left leg, and he was missing his left pinky and ring finger by the second knuckles each. They were vulnerable, and the world knew it, the enemy knew it.

                Dan spied a second contingent re-routing towards them. They would never escape, they certainly could not fight. It was quick thinking, and it was a lot of luck. He rallied what was left of his men and rose with their colors. At the crest of a knoll, he gave a hearty call. “We got’em now boys! It’s the last of them!” Dan’s voice carried across the misty field, followed by the war cry of his remaining men. By the grace of God, it had worked. The pasty faces of their attackers were slack and ghostly white. Without a quick turn, the redcoats retreated, fully believing they were against a vastly superior force.

                Dispatches made him a hero. He never fought the title, he also never accepted it. He was lucky, was all.

                Content that it was time, Dan headed on foot out into town. It was not a long walk, and he saw no reason to mount his horse for such a leisurely trek. Passing his fence off his property, he bordered a small farm belonging to the Landru family. It was just a father with his three boys. Dan had only shared a few words with the father. The boys mostly kept to themselves.

Further along the trail, it became the road, and he passed the recluse of the town. It was three homes that all were cursed with misfortune. Dan had inquired from one of the shop keeps about the reclusive woman that still occupied the center home. The shop keep explained to Dan just two years before the turn of the century, a man named James Bugden had lived in one of the now dilapidated homes. James had been visiting his neighbor, who had lived in the third home. There, James took a fatal plunge off the secondary story balcony. Many still whispered that the men had been arguing prompting, Jacob, the owner to push James to his death. With no witnesses, there was no reason to doubt Jacob’s story.

The fatal story could have ended there, but Jacob’s house was now the recluse’s house. Jacob was seen less and less in town after James’s death, but when he came into town, his mouth was full of tales. Jacob Tanner there was a demon that stalked the forest at night. Curious, men joined him to search the surrounding hillsides for the monster, but nothing was ever found. Jacob became more and a more recluse, and his stories became more fantastic about beasts that roamed the town at night, and stalking monsters in the forest. Curious newcomers would sometimes humor the man, but such outings did nothing but bring more shame to Jacob. Had it been shame of a guilty conscience, or a man sick of mind, no one could tell. Bleeding the man with leeches had not helped. Jacob’s adult daughter had to move from Philadelphia to live with and care for her father. Now only she was seen in town, and it was only to purchase the necessities. The young woman’s name wasn’t even known by the shop keep, who had shared the details with Dan.

The third and final house was abandoned just as James Bugden’s house was. The property had belonged to a Gabriel Martin as recently as 1801. Gabriel was a shoemaker and well liked from what Dan was told. That was until Gabriel started whispering that he, too, saw the apparitions roaming the town late at night. A distasteful joke, many residents of Sinner’s Pass thought, with Gabriel being a neighbor to the reclusive Tanners. Gabriel was apparently adamant he was seeing children, but possessed children whose eyes were like black pits that consumed light, and deer like creatures in the woods that consumed flesh. Few had any interest in humoring Gabriel. In isolation, the town was awoken one morning to Gabriel breaking into the chapel. He had already destroyed all the windows and was attempting to dismount the crucifix when the men subdued him.

The shop keep explained it took five men to wrestle Gabriel to the ground. Gabriel raved that the church was a breeding ground for evil and was luring them all into damnation. The local sheriff had chalked Gabriel’s twistical behavior to drunken behavior. Gabriel had spent a night locked up and most were content to accept that until Gabriel came back even more devious. Townsfolk found Gabriel trying to light the town ablaze with hay he had laid out. It was pure luck they grabbed him before the flame could take hold. Seeing as Gabriel was too dangerous, they hung him the following day.

Dan shook his head at the thought of the three properties. Aside from the tainted three, Sinner’s Pass did not differ from most towns he had seen in the new states. There had been some early issues with the Indians, but a stern hand taught them not to try the small town. Otherwise, it was quiet, and quiet is all Dan wanted for his budding family. Judith was to arrive today, and Dan was intent on meeting her carriage in town. It was a hard decision to leave her behind to find their homestead, but she was pregnant. It was agreed that neither wanted to risk a birth in a small town without their home fully erected yet.

The town was fully up and moving. Dan waved at the owner of the general shop as the door swung open. Along the road from the south, clopped the heavy hooves of horses pulling a carriage. There were game trails in the north, but the mountains became too tight for safe passage for wagons. All heavy movement had to come from the south, crossing a river, slowing flow into Sinner’s Pass. But the wait for Dan was finally over, and he could taste the sweet, relaxing life on his lips as the red carriage came to a stop before him.

Dan hurried his steps, eager to assist his wife out of the carriage, but the door opened before he could reach it. Instead of his swollen wife, something more beautiful stepped down. Judith stepped out and clutched to her chest was a small bundle of joy.

“Judith!” Dan exclaimed. His embrace of her was only stunted by the ginger care that she was carrying his child in her arms.

“Dan,” she said warmly. “I wanted to surprise you. He came early, and I didn’t want to spoil the union with a letter. Meet your son, Adam.” Dan saw the sleeping, pudgy little face. He could feel the pride swell warmly upon his cheeks, and it took everything not to cry right there in the streets of the town.

“He looks just like you.” Dan commented tenderly.

“Really? I only see you,” Judith said warmly. “Come, show us our home to complete this jollification of our day.” Judith looked off into the early morning sky. “Oh, red sky in morning, sailor take warning. Looks like we’ll get some weather.” Judith pointed to the red glow on the horizon.

“Who told you that saying?” Dan asked.

Judith glowed. “Dock hands just before leaving. They said it’s a sign of a brewing storm.”

“Good thing we aren’t sailors.”   

Dan paid the coach and paid two boys to carry the baggage to their house. Within the hour, they were settled as Judith admired the home Dan had built for them. It was cozy, and enough for the three of them. They had a root cellar, the main floor, and a second floor with their living area.

Judith rocked Adam in her arms as she peered out the front window from the second floor. “It’s everything we dreamed of.”

“It will never be enough for you, but it’s a start.”

“Dan, who is that?” Judith was looking outside at a woman carrying a bucket across the far field. A sullen woman, with dark hair and a dirty tunic.

“That’s Ms. Tanner. She cares for her father, who has become simple.”

“Poor thing.” Judith trailed off. “Was it an accident? Her father, becoming simple?”

“I’m not familiar with the details,” Dan said as a half-truth. “I hear her father is not a kind man anymore.”

“Poor thing,” Judith said as if she were talking about a puppy and not a person. “We should invite them for supper. I am sure she would like to know a lady is nearby to be friendly with.”

“I see your heart of gold has only grown since we’ve been apart.”

The next morning, Dan woke early to begin work on setting his fence. He was setting the first post believing he was alone in the dark morning. A crawling feeling tickles the back of his neck, forcing his eyes up. A thick mist floated through the field under the gathering dark storm clouds. Movement always caught his eye. That drew his attention first, shifting. It the haze there was a warm red glow. His thought was a fire, perhaps a lantern, but it was far too still to be a fire. A boxy body of darkness shifted, carrying the glow within it. A sharp peaked head of a deer mounted the thing.

“Dan?”

Dan looked back in terror at Judith and then back to the trees. The deer was gone.

“Dan? Is everything alright?” Judith called again.

“Yes, yes, just saw an animal is all.” Dan squinted. In the distance, he couldn’t see anything.

“Come break your fast. I want to go over and meet Ms. Tanner, see if she would like to join us later.”

After breakfast, Judith did as she said and went off to the Tanner residence. Dan went back to the fence. The sky had grown darker with the impending storm. Dan scanned the misty field towards the trees, looking to see if the creature had returned. The mist was still thick, unusual for the late morning. With the mist a renewed sense of dread crept through the air like a suffocating fog, seeping into his very bones. The old soldier in him said to leave. He harshly shook his head, hoping to quell the sensation, yet it lingered, like a sore on his tongue.

They were fortunate that the rain never settled in on them, but the clouds had stayed, threatening to release their contents at any moment. When supper finally came, Dan returned from the field to see the table was already set. Adam was sound asleep nearby, and at the end of his table sat the dark, tangled haired Ms. Tanner.

  “Good day, Ms. Tanner.” Dan greeted as Judith brought out her savory meat stew. Ms. Tanner did not acknowledge Dan’s greeting. A sharp glance at Judith, Judith just nodded warmly to sit. “It smells amazing, Judith. I have to say I don’t know if I missed you or your cooking more.” Dan said, taking his seat.

“I wanted something to really warm the soul.” Judith answered.

“Ms. Tanner, you father didn’t want to join us?” Dan asked to engage their guest.

“He’s been ill.” Ms. Tanner’s eyes flicked to him. Dan’s heart tripped at the dark globes that were the woman’s eyes. Under her unruly brows, it was like looking at a rabid animal.

“I think you can take the excess with you.” Judith answered. “Maybe the stew will help him get to his feet.”

A long silence settled among the three. Dan couldn’t pull his eyes off the wild woman, but finally she dipped her head down. “Mayhap.”

“Dan, would you lead us in grace?” Judith asked.

Dan clasped his hands together and bowed his head. He started grace, yet he couldn’t resist peeking from the corner of his eye at Ms. Tanner. Ms. Tanner didn’t move. She kept her head down and waited for the prayer to end. The dark shadow that her long hair cast hiding whatever her face may be doing.

Following grace, Judith dipped into her meal with eager. Ms. Tanner slowly sipped from her own bowl. Dan eyed the woman suspiciously.

“Ms. Tanner, what brought you here?” Judith probed to give conversation.

“My father.” Her voice was flat and without interest.

“That’s noble of you, caring for your father,” Judith added, “I hope if anything ever were to happen to me that Adam would be as kind.”

“Just don’t do it here.” Ms. Tanner added as she brought another spoon full to her mouth.

Judith glanced at Dan and then went to her bowl. “Dan, how is the fence coming along?”

“It’s almost complete. I wasted some too much time looking for that odd deer I saw this morning.”

Ms. Tanner’s spoon clattered against her bowl, ripping their eyes onto her. The woman’s eyes were glassy, her cheeks stretched gaunt in terror. “What did the deer look like?”

Dan wanted desperately to look at Judith, but feared taking his eyes off their guest. “It, was large. Very dark. The weather made it difficult to see this morning.” Dan shrugged it off. The deer had only been a startling start. He had sought it out of curiosity, and tried to shrug off the animal.

“It was one of them.” Ms. Tanner whispered, fearful the creature was listening. Her seriousness made Dan’s blood run cold.

“One of who, dear?” Judith asked.

Ms. Tanner’s hands came up trembling. She eyed her own shaking hands. She patted the air to calm herself more than either himself or his wife. “I c-c-came to care for my father because his mind had made him funny. He s-s-saw things, terrible things. I thought it was just the sickness. But, I see them too. If you see them for too long, they begin to whisper to you. They whisper in your most intimate moments, their thoughts and secrets. In the heart of this haunted forest, the trees whisper dreadful secrets.”

A skeletal cold grasp seized Dan. He felt himself pulled tightly to his seat. “You mean, like ghosts?” Judith asked with a worried chuckle. The glance from Judith told Dan Judith thought it all to be a joke.

Ms. Tanner slammed her small fist on the table. Both Judith and the bowls jumped at the impact. Adam woke and began to cry. “It’s real. A-a-a-all of it is real. They know you more than you know yourself. Sometimes, sometimes they tell you what they think of others.”

“I think it’s time you go.” Dan said, getting to his feet.

“But you saw one of them!”

“I saw a deer.” Dan snapped back. “Now, please, leave.” Dan said over Adam’s cried.

Ms. Tanner turned and saw herself out as Judith rushed to Adam. “Do you think she’s sick, too?” Judith said over shushing Adam.

Dan watched out the window as the woman faded into the night’s darkness. “I don’t know, but I think we should avoid her.”

As night settled in, their small room was filled with the soft breathing of Judith and Adam asleep. Dan couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes. His mind was wired from their evening with their neighbor, and the gripping truth Dan knew. Something about that deer had been wrong. A glow had come from the chest of the beast, soft, but it was undeniable.

Dan slithered out of bed, careful not to wake Judith. He peered out the window. The moon’s cool white glow cast night shadows that danced with an eerie malevolence, whispering secrets that chilled the soul. Storm clouds still lingered high above. It was odd how the light seemed to come from everywhere, yet nowhere. No moon was visible, yet still the light reached the ground. He looked along the tree line, hoping to catch a glimpse of the monster again. He scanned the area twice and was about to turn back when a soft glow peeked out from the far left field.

Dan held his breath. Through the mist and night light, a muted orange glow shuffled through the brush. At times, dipping and disappearing, then reappearing for a moment. Dan leaned against the window, wishing he had the telescope of his service days to see the beast now. It was coming out to the field. He simply had to wait and it would reveal itself.

The light wandered out into the field. Dan clenched his teeth, the pressure straining against his molars. Not a monster, but a robed figure came out. The person held a lantern out as they dragged something long and wet behind them. Dan watched the hooded dark figure trek across the field and headed for the three cursed homes. The figure disappeared behind the center house, the Tanner residence.

                Seconds passed, and the muted orange glow could be seen briefly through one window of the Tanner’s place, and then was quickly extinguished. The hour was late. Dan could only think of nefarious things one would be up at such an hour. “What are you doing?” Dan muttered to himself.

                “Dan? Is everything alright?” Judith whispered through a sleepy haze.

                “Yes, couldn’t sleep,” Dan whispered back as he crawled into bed.

                Dan didn’t sleep through the night. Each time he closed his eyes, he saw the odd beast. He tried each time to convince himself it was just a deer. That there was no glow, but then the image would come back. Gaunt legs, a dark body, a sharp face with a thin hazardous rack, and the glow emitting from within.

                “I should bring a pale up with how the weather is looking.” Judith said, rising in their bed. Dan had lost track of time in his thoughts. “Are you feeling alright, dear? Your eyes are red.”

                “I didn’t sleep well,” he confessed.

                “Stay in. Watch Adam for me? I won’t be long. I just want to beat the weather.”

                Dan sat up and looked, saw the sky had darkened even more. It was oddly well lit for how menacing the clouds appeared. The glow was… otherworldly. “I’ve never seen weather like this.”

                Judith straightened her collar. “It reminds me of play lights.” Judith compared. Judith had been a patron of the theater and had seen many plays compared to the two that he had ever attended.

                “Are you sure you want to go? I don’t mind doing the hauling. You’ve been traveling for so long.” Dan’s mind was on the creature. Hadn’t the shop keep told him one of the sick people had said the deer eat flesh?

“Because I’ve been traveling why I want to go. It feels good to roam again. After all, it is my wifely duty.”

Dan no saw signs of breaking Judith’s resolve. He thought about them all going, but Adam would be a hinderance, and just expose the entire family. “Please, be safe.”

“It’s just a trip through the woods.” Judith said reassuringly.

Dan picked up and held Adam in his arms as he watched Judith leave. As she faded out of view from the front window, Dan moved to the upstairs window. There he watched Judith trek further, out into the woods. It did not take long for her slender form to disappear completely among the bush and trees. High above, the sky roared. A cracking thunder rumbled. The lighting was unseen, but the storm was here finally.

He scanned the sky. With the crisp treetops and the otherworldly skies, the view would be vernal. No appreciation lightened his mind. He couldn’t help but think the creature had somehow conjured the storm, or the storm had brought the beast. He wondered if this was how Gabriel and Jacob had felt, if they had seen the same thing.

The first tapping at the window drew Dan out of his thoughts. Rain. Rain was patting against the cabin. Judith will be soaked, Dan thought. With Adam falling into a nap, he would make a pot of tea for Judith. Perhaps the warm liquid would do them both some good, warm her and calm his old soul.

Down in the kitchen, Dan focused on preparing the kettle. The steam was starting to rise, and the stuffy heat did little to settle his nerves. With the intensity of the rain pounding against the exterior, he felt his nerves tighten more. Judith would be stuck in the weather. He couldn’t let her struggle in this alone. He glanced at the window at his level; the mist was back with the rain. Dan grit his teeth, clenching so hard his jaw ached. His eyes danced to his musket hung above his fireplace’s mantle and then to the chest nearest the mantle where his hatchet and old uniform were stored.

Dan threw the thoughts away. It was the path to the same fate as his neighbors. Judith would return, and he’d have warm tea to great her. With the kettle ready, he moved back upstairs to check on Adam. Part of him knew he was moving to see if the upper window could see over the mist.

Adam was still sound asleep where Dan had laid him. Content that Adam was undisturbed by the weather, he peered back out the window. Dan tried to steady his thoughts, thinking Judith would likely be coming back now. She wouldn’t want to be in the weather, and the river wasn’t that far.

Dan could see over the fog. He was horrified to see not Judith, but a group of small children in the field closest to the trees. Dan couldn’t count them all, but he guessed it was a dozen. They moved as if the weather had no impact on their steps. His mouth ran dry, and he felt his spine ratchet up. The group was moving into the trees, the same direction that Judith had gone.

Fleeting, Dan shot out of the room. He flew down the stairs and nearly slammed himself on his mantle. He snatched his musket, shot, and powder. Kicking open the chest, he snatched his hatchet out. Running, he primed his musket, pouring the powder and ripping into a shot. He stuffed the barrel as he leaped across stones and downed trees. The rain was coming down like a waterfall upon him.

Breaking into the tree line, he paused only to gain his vision. The rain under the trees was less intense, but dark shadows still fleeted among the trees. No children awaited him, and no Judith. With a death grip on his musket, he loped among the trees.

Rain dampened the sights. The brush gave little indication of anyone having traveled through recently. But there were children, dozens of them, I saw them. 

“Help!” a voice cried out in the rain.

Judith. Caution for his wellbeing was tossed away. Dan sprinted. “Dan! Anyone!”

“Judith!” Dan screamed as he ran. He darted between trees. Water slicked his movement, threatening to toss him at any misstep.

Roaring water overwhelmed the pounding rain. The river was a stream of white water. Dan came upon the buckets that Judith had been carrying.

“Dan!” Judith’s strained voice screamed. Through the streaming river, Judith was trapped within the river. Judith clutched with all her life a downed tree’s limb.

Dan kneeled at the fallen tree and inched his way across the top. The rotting wood giving away under his weight with every inch he crept across. Judith began to a babbling, begging him to save her. Dan used his musket to reach out to her. “Grab it!” Dan tried to push the stock out further to her.

Judith latched onto the branch with one arm as she fought against the roaring riving. As she reached for the stock, the wood snapped. The branch and Judith disappeared into the white torrent.

“Judith!” Dan screamed, but she didn’t reemerge from the river. “Judith!”

A roar answered him. His shattered heart now beat ice into his system. Crunching, at the far bank was the beast. A humanoid form stood, dark with the center red glow. Dan, still laying across the rotted tree, raised his musket up. The barrel steady on the tall dancer like figure as he cocked the flintlock back and pulled the trigger.

Click. The flint slammed against wet powder. 

The monster roared again. Dan threw himself into the mud of the bank. Pressing hard against the slick clay, Dan kicked to his feet.

Dan worked with his fingers as he ran again. His thumb brushing the plate as he ran. He wouldn’t have a chance to refill the barrel. With only a silent prayer, he hoped it was only the flint that was wet. Otherwise, it was only him and a hatchet against the stalking monstrosity. Behind him, he could hear branches breaking, brush crunching, the gallop of the monster.

No time to decide. Dan skidded, sinking into the soft soil. Twisting back with his musket up, he fired into the sound pursuing him. The musket blasted into the rain. Smoke bellowed out. Brush surrendered under the unrelenting travel of the ball. No monster stood among the trees.   

 

Neighbors came in response to the close shot. Dan had known the fate of those who spoke of monsters. It was to attract help for Judith; he said of the shot. And help his neighbors did. They scoured the river. Once the men were all involved, the weather relented. They found Judith’s body, drowned against a bolder further south of the river’s flow. The events, there were just things, now to Dan. His love, his only person, was gone.

                Dan had to force himself back to tend to Adam, who cried, unaware in his innocent state he was now motherless. He thinks someone came to get him for the funeral. To that, he wasn’t even sure. He may have walked alone, carrying Adam to the funeral.

                They were the only Wilkens, so they, of course, were there. Some men who helped search for Judith attended. All the Landrus attended, but said nothing. The youngest, Charles Landru, barely a shaver, stared at the only other attendee. Ms. Tanner.

                Ms. Tanner wore black and gray and had her hair put back tightly. Still, her hair was wild, and lined with grease. She did it, something deep in his psyche spoke to him.

                No, no, Dan thought. Ms. Tanner could not have done that. The monster, maybe.

                She’s a witch, and her father is a murderer, they whispered to him.

                No, no, I saw the creature before I knew Ms. Tanner.

                “Mr. Wilkins?” The pastor’s words shook him from the internal dialogue. Everyone was gone, the gave was filled with the tainted soil. Adam was in his arms, crying, and he had been standing there unaware, lost somewhere.

                Dan excused himself to take the solemn walk back with only Adam.

                His cabin was not the homestead it was supposed to be. It was just a shelter. Even in the heat of the day, the cabin was cold. Dan sat caring for Adam, and let his world deteriorate to that lone task. He sat looking out the window. His property grew wild with weeds. His thoughts grew malice with the whispers.

                Everything went wrong when she came. Outside grew darker, and the wood aged. You saw her creeping home dragging something, and her father is insane. Dan eyed his musket and hatchet each day. There’s no coincidence.

                Dan had to rub his eyes through the days. Sometimes, his mind would slip, and things wouldn’t look right. He could have sworn he saw his stove as rusted, aged, but even with his mis-care, there was no way it could be that rusted. He rubbed harshly, a cracking from the weak cells in his eyes, and the stove was normal again. Outside, he had tried to tend to some of his fieldwork, and had seen the same. At one point, everything in his field was dead, and his new fence was rotted, and collapsing. He swiped at his face, and the field had returned to normal.

                Am I losing my mind? Dan had thought. No, no, no, it’s them! Something else answered.

                That night dan stood at the second-floor window, with Adam sleeping soundly behind him. The field had the odd mist again. It’s a sign they are close, something whispered to him. It spoke with his mind, but it differed from where the voice originated. She’s doing something again. In the dark he saw the orange glow again, a lantern. The hooded figure trudged to towards the Tanner residence. With the figure, more mist rolled in. The mist seemed to carry with it the anguished cries of those lost souls trapped within its grasp.

                There she is in her vile and filth, the voice whispered. “What am I supposed to do?” Dan muttered to himself. He was keenly aware he was alone with only Adam sound asleep. No one was there to answer. Cast out the vile, they know not what lurks… but you do, the voice answered.

                Dan felt a twitch in his eye, so powerful it nearly pulled his eye back into the socket. Dan snarled and stormed back downstairs.

                He snatched his musket and hatchet once more. Priming his musket, he flung himself out into the night air. The mist was thick, and something warm and vile mixed as an evil cocktail in the air. There was a hint of a sulfur smell, and a lingering smell of rancid flesh.

                They want her and her patriarch, the voice whispered. “I know,” Dan said through clenched teeth. Never in his years of war could he point to a death that was needed. Never once could he point to a single dead and say the life had been necessary to forge a nation. But he knew their lives were required.

                A light burned within the tanner house. Someone moved within, Dan saw by the shadows that danced on the wall. Dan went directly for the source. With a high swing, he used his hatchet to shatter the window. Someone within gasped and darted through the house. It’s the witch.

                Dan hurried through, feeling a jagged piece of glass rip at his flesh. He ignored the pain in the heat of his chase. The woman had fled behind a door. Dan cocked back the flintlock of his musket as he kicked at the door. Unlatched, the door flung open and banged against the wall.

                Within the dark room was the woman with a lantern behind a bound figure. A man, bound to a pillar of the house, looked at him with milky white eyes. Gray of flesh, and more corpse than man, he snarled with cracked lips. Yellow teeth snapped. The floor was darkened, black and brown from aged and rotting blood. Small bones from feasting on various animals littered the floor. The woman released the man from his bindings.

                He charged Dan like a wild animal. Dan raised the musket. The two collided, his musket firing wildly into the room. Something shattered as they went tumbling back. Filthy long nails clawed at his face. Dan punched up, but the wild man showed no response. The long gray fingers gripped Dan’s throat. Bright orange lights from a fire showed the man’s eyes were pure satanic white, soulless. Dan pushed the man’s head up by his throat. The world grew hazy with the pressure on his own throat. Dan snarled as he brought his hatchet up.

He felt a thud and crunch from his swing. The man let out a hiss, loosening his grip. With a wet crack, he pulled his hatchet back and rolled on top of the man. The twitching mass of a man gurgled at him as he brought the hatched down again like a guillotine’s blade.

Withering the man died. A fire from the lantern he had shot consumed a wall.

It was a blur. Just a swiping brown object. Instinct drove him to the ground. Ms. Tanner had swung his musket at him. He grabbed her feet and pulled her back. They both went tumbling across the ground. Fire licked at his hair as he climbed up through her tangle of limbs. Her dirty face whipped at him as he brought his hatchet up again.

“No!” she screamed, but neither he nor the voice listened.


 

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3 Comments


Guest
Sep 12

Best one yet!

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Guest
Sep 06

The ending really makes me want the book

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It's right around the corner! 9/30/2024

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