The Watcher

He was watching her. She would get this funny feeling in the pit of her stomach and she knew that he was doing it again. It only happened at night when she was sleeping. When she looked, she couldn’t see anything obvious. Just subtle things like shifting his head to get more comfortable. She would get up and go to the bathroom or the kitchen to get a drink of water. Sitting for a while in another room just to get this creepy feeling to calm down. It just wasn’t right. This watching. Who does this sort of thing? What kind of person watches another person while they are sleeping and then tells them about it the next day? Giving blow by blow details of what they do while they are sleeping. It was getting harder and harder for her to sleep. Staying awake until she couldn’t stay awake any longer. Sleeping became almost impossible. She knew she had to do something. But what? How could she stop…

The Watcher?

Leftovers

Leftovers again! When are we ever going to run out of this. If mom makes me eat this one more time, I’m going to scream!

He knew that his sisters and brothers were thinking the same thing. They all looked at each other with rolled eyes and grimaces and a little bit of laughter. To which mom would say, “Laugh all you want, you will eat what I eat or go hungry!”

When mealtime was over, they went to play before bedtime. His oldest sister, (there were three boys and six girls) took him aside and asked him if he would find out why they had eaten the same meal for the last five days.

He had always been the daring one. Not being afraid of much, he considered this a good challenge. Besides, the little ones were starting to worry him. They were looking a little pale and not wanting to play much anymore. Pretty soon they would be moving. Mom had been packing up their things. He would ask her tomorrow.

When it came time for breakfast the next day, there was nothing to eat. All of a sudden they were wishing for the same old thing. Mom came in the room said it was time to go. They hurriedly wiggled and squirmed their way behind mom and before you know it, they were at their next home.

Finally, they were able to eat and they were happy that it wasn’t the same old rotten raccoon. They had never eaten this particular rotting carcas yet. When they asked mom what it was, she said that a man had run over a turtle and it was just starting to rot. It wasn’t very big, but it tasted really good. The little maggot family had gotten to this turtle in the nick of time. The ravens were going to join them soon. They always did. Mom would try to hide them so the ravens wouldn’t make a meal of them as well as the turtle. The wriggling little mass of maggots were home for now.

The Fog

The Fog

The fog rolled slowly in over the city. Soon it would be shrouded in white thick clouds that undulated like someone breathing. It was alive. People would quickly run their errands and hurry home before they could no longer see where they were going. This fog would last for days.

Many would hear the sounds of something being dragged outside their doors. The eerie noises coming from this fog, this living breathing mass of wickedness. People would plug the ears of their children to keep them from hearing. It called to them. If the parents were too late in plugging their ears, the children would find some way to get out of their homes. No matter how their parents locked their doors and windows, they found a way to get out and go to it.

They were never seen again. Oh, they would come back, but not as the innocent little children that they were. They came back as nightmares and hauntings. Some of them came back as monsters. Monsters like you have never before seen. They were so grotesque that even the hardiest of souls didn’t want to look. When the fog finally receded enough to see, people would come out of their homes for the cleanup and to search for the missing children.

The clean up was swift. People scrubbed the streets clean of the soot and goo that was left by the fog. They scrubbed doors and windows, walkways and floors. The search for the missing was vast and they left no stone unturned.

Everyone was exhausted from cleaning and searching. When they finally calmed down a little and went about their work, they breathed a little sigh of relief. It was over for now. Till the next time when the fog would return.

First Frost

coldWe had our first sacrifice over 100 years ago. Only the chosen knew of this ritual in this small town. The first sacrifice was made after the first frost and has been done this way ever since. Once a year a person is picked from the town. It has to be someone that has no idea of the ritual. That is the way. The choice is easy. Only four times has the name we have picked been turned down, then we have had to choose another. There are seven of us. Seven that choose. There are about fifty people that know about the ritual and when one of the seven is no longer with us then we choose another to complete the circle. Of the seven, one is chosen the leader. He is the keeper of the notebook. It is usually passed down from generation to generation. Sometimes not all in the family know of this custom. Families can be complicated. Difficult at best. My son-in-law was sometimes a big problem but he was easy to handle. He was a drunk but he came in handy for some of the dirtier jobs. My daughter deserved better, but she made her bed. She was not easy. She had many problems. I helped her as much as I could. I will write more about my family later. They mean much more to me than they will ever know.

This is the story as it was told to me when I was old enough to understand. I won’t go into all of the details of the long ocean voyage or the sacrifices my mother and father had to make to get all of us here in this valley, but this is where we stayed.

The curse that was put on our family was such that it required a human sacrifice once a year after the first frost. My mother tried everything to break the curse and could not do it. She hated making the sacrifice and it made her a bitter woman. She followed the old traditions of our village and made a few of her own as she saw fit. There were few that she could trust with her craft and fewer still that she could trust to learn of the sacrifice. Somehow, someone found out about it and sought out my mother to see if she could be of assistance. They became fast friends. Most of the rituals were done in the woods. In secluded little spots that were out of the way, and when you owned the land, it gave you power. It gave you the power to decide who to keep out and who could come in. Not many were let in. If someone wandered on the land by accident they were quickly made to leave. No one could know the secrets that were kept here. When I was old enough, I was given a piece of the property. I built my house there and had my family there. My task became great after my mother died. I was made the leader of our little band of seven.

It was hard to keep this from my family, but keep it from them I did. Some of the children would try to follow me at times up into the field and I would let them come with me once in a while. I would show them the different trees and where the ginseng was. All of the good mushroom patches and which ones were poisonous. From doing this, I knew which of my children that I could trust with the task of the First Frost. I was in no hurry to turn it over, it was a job that I didn’t like but had no choice. A few times the sacrifice was not made and the consequences were not pretty. I would not make that mistake again. As long as I was alive, my family would not suffer. They better pray that I stay alive for a long long time.

3 AM

It was 3 AM and I was awakened by the sound of footsteps running down the street. I sat up on the edge of the bed and listened. It was incredibly strange this dark cloudy night. When I came to bed at midnight I remember hearing footsteps running. And, For the life of me, there was something that I should be doing and I can not remember what it is. I got up and went down to the kitchen for a glass of water.

The kitchen light was on when I got there. I could have sworn I shut it off. I got a glass of water and sat at the kitchen table. There it was again, running…off in the distance and headed this way. I hurried to the window in the living room and looked out. The sound was getting louder and as I was waiting to see who it was, I saw a shape running from tree to tree, well more like gliding. It was watching the street too. I had never seen any entity out in my yard before. They usually stayed around the basement. Maybe it wasn’t one of mine.

Now I remember! I was going to organize a watch party for Halloween! It was our favorite time of year. We loved going out together and waiting for the older ghouls and ghosties to see if we could scare them. We usually left the young ones alone unless there was some little beastie that was a little too beastie if you know what I mean. I went back to the kitchen and wrote this down to remember about the watch party and got back to the task at hand. Trying to find the source of the footsteps.

I decided to take a look around outside so I went to the kitchen door and stepped out into the night. It was very dark out, not a star in sight. Once my eyes became used to the darkness I walked around to the front of the house. Rounding the corner, I could see why it was so very dark. All of the street lights were out. There it was again, the footsteps running down the street. I ran to the nearest tree and hid there for a minute before going to the next tree. The footsteps were getting closer and I proceeded again to the next tree. I was about to see where the footsteps were coming from. Who was it that was running? And running from what?

All of a sudden, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. My heart was racing and a bead of sweat ran down my forehead. What came next would haunt me forever. A blood curdling scream and the most horrendous roar I had ever heard. The ground beneath my feet shook and the air was filled with the stench of something burning. The footsteps were getting closer now and there was a strange glow in the air. I ran to the tree next to the street and waited. Any second now the mystery of the footsteps would be resolved…

It was 3 AM and I was awakened by the sound of footsteps running down the street. I sat up on the edge of the bed and listened. It was incredibly strange this dark cloudy night. When I came to bed at midnight I remember hearing footsteps running. For the life of me, there was something that I should be doing and I can not remember what it is. I got up and went down to the kitchen for a glass of water.

The Journey

Welcome back! I’m so glad that you are here.  Did you enjoy yourself the last time?  Maybe you should have another one. I’ll arrange it for you. Follow me to get started on your journey.  You know that you will be gone for several days. Have you made arrangements for your absence? Good!  Let’s get started then shall we?

It was best if you didn’t ask a lot of questions about the journey. Ever since the Aliens took control of the earth, you had to have your brain reprogrammed every three months, until you could no longer remember what  your life was like before the invasion. The people that resisted going on the journey were never seen again.

It was all our fault. They warned us over and over again and we didn’t listen. Most of the earth was destroyed, well most of the people were killed and the ones that survived had to go on the journey. I have been on three of these journeys now. Just when my hair has started to grow long enough to hide the scars, it’s time to go again.

You know what? It really isn’t that bad. There are beautiful trees and flowers and parks everywhere. But…the thing that I don’t like at all is that I’m starting to look like them.

Well, it’s time to go. Are you going next?

Things That Wake You In The Night (From The Fabrication Of Your Dreams)

You hear the floor boards creak,

It makes your heart race and your knees weak.

You lay in bed not wanting to investigate,

When you hear another noise that you hate.

You never did find out where it comes from,

The dreaded drip…drip…drip and it makes you numb.

I’m so very tired, my eyes want to close,

But I don’t dare, I don’t want to doze.

Maybe for just a minute I will rest,

Not wanting to sleep, my eyes protest.

The next thing I know, the sunlight

Awakens me with a fright.

Jumping out of bed, putting slippers on my feet,

Grab a robe from the door, stub my toe on the love seat.

Once out in the hall, I walk to the stairs that go to the attic,

My breath starts to quicken and I start to panic.

At one time, I used to play up there,

Now I’m older when out of the blue it scares me, its so unfair.

For the first time the noise starts during the day,

Drip…drip…drip. I’ve had it and rush through the doorway.

When who do I see at the top of the stairs but Morgan le Fay.

She was the stuff that dreams are made of.

I had been reading about King Arthur, Avalon and his true love.

The drip…drip…drip…was coming from the Lady of the Lake,

As she collected her offerings she made them all quake.

She gave Arthur his sword Excalibur at the urging of Merlin,

Now I understood the noises I heard and I was certain.

It was the imagination that comes from reading a good tale

With a touch of magic from Merlin and from me an exhale.