Ten Open Graves: A Collection of Supernatural Horror

by David Wood

  As the last words left her lips, she glanced out the window at the mountain rising up next to them, and a shudder ran through her body. Kyle followed her gaze, then frowned.

  “Wait, are you saying some of that evil ended up in the mountain?”

  Maya sighed and nodded. “Yes. Deep in a cavern at the heart of the mountain we're parked on is a creature of incredible evil and power. The miners worship it as a god, and who's to say they're wrong? It's been there for hundreds of millions of years at least, slumbering in the deep dark water that was supposed to destroy it.”

  Taylor coughed. “But I'm guessing something woke it up, right?”

  “No.” Maya shook her head, then stopped, nodded, and then shook her head again. “Yes and no. There's still enough floodwater remaining in the cavern it's in to keep it asleep, but it's waking up. Little by little, as those miners pump the water out, it stirs more and more. Soon the water will be gone, and I'm terrified to consider what'll happen next.”

  “How soon?” Taylor asked.

  Maya shrugged. “I don't know. Hours at best. When people wake up tomorrow, it's going to be a very shitty day, I can tell you that much.”

  “Is that what those...psychic vibrations were?” Kyle asked. “That creature waking up?”

  “Yes. That's how powerful it is. Even in its sleep it can reach out and touch your mind, affect the world, turn you into something vile.”

  “And that's what's happened to my dad and the other miners?” Taylor asked.

  Maya hated saying yes, but she had no choice. “I'm sorry, but yes. About a month ago, according to the visions I got from that Dean guy, the miners were digging out a new tunnel when their machine broke through a wall and released some of the water in the cavern. They almost drowned from it, and...that might have been for the better. I know it's your dad, so I hate to say that, but that water cursed them.”

  “But I thought the water was supposed to kill evil,” Kyle said.

  “It was, but after millions of years of having that...thing...sleeping in it, the water changed, became just as evil as it was. And when it washed over your dad and everyone else at the mine, it in turn changed them.”

  Kyle looked down for a moment and made a “huh” sound, as though an idea had occurred to him. “Sorta like heavy water then.”

  “What's that?” Maya asked.

  “The water that's used to cool nuclear fuel rods becomes irradiated over time, becoming what they call heavy water. Trust me, it's not something you'd want to fill your pool with.”

  Maya didn't have to understand the science behind what Kyle said to know that his comparison was apt. And, worse, he'd hit on another problem.

  “Well, that leads to something else.”

  Taylor snorted and fell back against the seat, her red-rimmed eyes rolling. “Oh, right, like an ancient dark god under our feet wasn't bad enough?”

  “I'm afraid not,” Maya replied.

  Kyle sighed and shook his head. “Shit. The pipe.”

  Were the circumstances not so dire, Maya would have smiled at his quick understanding.

  “What pipe?” Taylor asked.

  “The one leading out of the vent tunnel,” Kyle explained. “The one we followed out of the mine. When Maya and I found it, it was spitting out some sort of dark, sludgy water. That was from the cavern wasn't it?”

  Maya nodded.

  “And it's going right into the river. The river that feeds into the local water utility.”

  “Wait,” Taylor said, her lips screwed up in a disgusted sneer, “are you saying that we've all been drinking that evil creature's bath water?”

  Maya nodded. “Everyone in Stillwater is consuming that thing, drop by drop. And the more it wakes up, the more its psychic influence is felt. People are evil enough as it is without its essences rushing through their bodies.”

  “But what about Taylor and the rest of her friends?” Kyle asked. “Why don't they seem to be affected like my mom and the people you met at the cafe?”

  Taylor barked up a harsh laugh. “How often do you see kids drink water, bro? If it ain't comin’ out of a can or bottle, we don't drink it.”

  “So then…” Kyle started before pausing to digest everything he’d heard. After a moment he continued. “We think we know what's happening. The next question is what do we do about it?”

  “And there you come to the real problem.” Maya leaned back in the seat like Taylor. “I don't have a single damn idea.”

  “Can we...I don't know…throw a grenade at whatever this monster is?” Taylor asked. “Get some deep core drillers to drop a nuke on its ass Michael Bay style? Something?”

  Maya wanted desperately to know what to say, to have a definitive answer, but she didn't. “Maybe. None of my visions came with a list of its weakness or vulnerabilities. We might be able to shoot it or blow it up, but then again all that might do is piss it off. Please understand, it isn't purely flesh and blood. It's as much a being of psychic terror as it is physical, a creature whose every fiber is made of the darkest evil. For all I know a cross or a stick of sandalwood incense might be more useful than bullets or bombs.”

  “Then let me simplify things.” Kyle fixed them both with a hard look. “We don't have a grenade, or a nuke, or a proton pack, or anything else like it. Right now all we've got are a bunch of ghost stories and a shot up vehicle. The best thing we can do is to try and get to Williamson again, or – fuck – anywhere other than here, and let people know what's happening.”

  “What about Hanna and the rest in the cabin?” Taylor asked.

  “They're good for now. They've got plenty of bottled water, and they're far from the crazies. Right now they're better off than we are.”

  Maya bit her lower lip. Kyle was correct. There wasn't anything they could do in Stillwater to stop what was coming. There likely wasn't anything they could do anywhere else, either, but every mile they put between themselves and the evil under the mountain, the better she would feel.

  “Then we need to get my car.” She knew it meant going back into a town that was probably getting crazier by the moment. “It isn't much to look at, but it'll get us farther than this Jeep will.”

  Kyle sighed, but the look on his face said he knew she was right. “Alright, if that's what we have to do, then let's do it. The sun is nearly down, and I don't want to be here when darkness falls.”

  Maya couldn't agree more, so she nodded and patted Taylor's leg. Taylor took her hand and squeezed it.

  “I don't know you from Eve,” the young girl said, her soot-streaked face solemn and her skin clammy cold, “but I'm glad you're here.”

  “Me too,” Maya replied, not meaning it in the least little bit. If she'd had a genie in her pocket, her one and only wish would be to have never heard of the town of Stillwater, West Virginia.

  Getting through the backwoods to town on three tires was a slow, arduous process, and it hadn't been made easier by the rain continually pouring from the sky, turning dirt roads into bogs and asphalt into Slip 'n Slides. The lone upside to the rain was the lack of traffic they had to avoid while circling around the edge of town. At least, Kyle hoped it was the rain that kept the townsfolk out of his hair and not something more monstrous.

  When they finally rolled to a grinding halt in a dark corner of the parking lot next to The Basement, Kyle parked and killed the engine. His eyes flicked from shadow to shadow, from the bar to the motel across the street. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, telling him something was wrong, but he didn't know if that was due to something in particular or the general sense of FUBAR that permeated the town. He felt eyes on him from every quarter, and in his mind the eyes were black and pitiless.

  “Why did we park over here?” Maya asked, craning forward and cramming herself into the space between the front seats.

  Feeling the sudden heat of her against his arm pulled some of the clouds of paranoia from Kyle's head. Glancing over at her, the distant parking lot lights barely lit her face, o
utlining her beauty like an artist using chalk on black paper. It seemed crazy that less than a day ago they had been entwined in each other's arms, the sheets damp with their sweat as they gave themselves to each other.

  “Because there's a distinct possibility they know where we're staying.”

  “They?” Maya angled her head to peer at the motel's parking lot.

  “The police, for one.”

  “How?”

  Kyle rubbed at his left wrist, the one the cop had grabbed with his freezing cold hand. “Well, there aren't a lot of places we could be staying at other than here, but even if that wasn't the case, I dropped my wallet when we were stopped trying to leave town. A quick search on my credit card history would be all they needed.”

  “Shit,” Maya replied with a sigh.

  “On the plus side, they dropped something too.” He reached into the tight space between the seat and plastic console that bisected the front of the Jeep. When his hand came up, he held a gun. Taylor and Maya drew back like he'd pulled out a snake.

  “Where in the hell did that come from?” Taylor asked.

  Kyle shook his head at the fearful way both women looked at him. “I knocked it out of the cop’s hand. I forgot all about it until we headed this way. Damn thing slid under my feet. I managed to tuck it away when we stopped at a stop sign.”

  Maya leaned forward again. She wasn't as close as she'd been a few seconds ago, but some of her fear had worn off. “Is it loaded? Does it still work?”

  “It worked well enough earlier,” he replied as he pressed a button and the magazine dropped into his hand from the grip. Small brass casings were neatly lined up inside it. “It's a .40 caliber Smith & Wesson with a standard fifteen round mag. The cop shot twice, so we have thirteen rounds left. It's in great shape, too. Frankly, right now I'd rather have this than my wallet, so I'd call it a fair trade.” He slapped the mag back into place as he finished speaking and tucked it next to the seat again.

  “So if you think they might be waiting, should we risk getting Maya's car?” Taylor asked.

  Kyle's head tilted from side to side as he considered how to answer her words. “Do I want to risk it? Hell no, but I need to. Unless either of you knows how to hotwire a car, that is.” When all he got were blank looks, he nodded and chugged ahead. “That's what I thought. Maya, give me your keys.”

  Maya reached down to the floorboard where she'd put her purse earlier in the day, rooted around inside it for a moment, then gave him a jangling set of keys with a small, green ghost figurine dangling from the key ring. Kyle recognized it as Slimer from Ghostbusters.

  “While you take care of that, I've got my own mission to take care of.” Taylor reached for the door handle next to her.

  Kyle jerked around and hit the LOCK button on the door console next to him, then turned back around. “What in the hell are you talking about? You're not going anywhere. I need you to stay here.”

  “You don't get to tell me what to do,” Taylor replied as she pulled on the door handle. It snapped out of her hands and the door remained closed. She hit the UNLOCK button with a stiff jab of her finger, but Kyle relocked it before she could get the door open. She tried to get out again, and then again, before slamming herself backward against the seat and hitting the door. “Goddam it, Kyle! You're not Dad!”

  “No, I'm not!” Kyle said. “Dad tried to kill you. I'm trying to keep you safe. I don't know if you can tell the distinction, but trust me, it's there. What could you possibly have to do that's so important?”

  Taylor huffed and pulled uselessly at her door handle. “I need to go find Morgana. Her house is only half a mile from here. I can't be so close to her now without trying to find her.”

  Feeling some of the wind taken from his sails, Kyle ground his teeth. “Sis, I understand how you feel, but—”

  “No you don't!” Taylor gave an exaggerated wave of her hand. “You don't know shit. While you were off running away from all this, I was stuck here, trying to figure out on my own who I was and why I was so different from everybody else. Do you know how many times I thought about running away? How many times I considered killing myself? No, you don't, 'cause you weren't here. Morgana does. She saved me. She's the only bright spot in my whole world, and I love her. So, pardon me if I want to find her and get her out of this fucking mess.”

  Kyle's face numbed as blood drained away. He couldn't believe what his little sister said, the naked truth of what his leaving had meant, and the terrible pain she'd had to go through alone. The tongue-lashing she'd given him the night before seemed like nothing compared to what had come out of her now. In the face of that truth, how could he deny her?

  “Okay, you made your point. I don't have the right to tell you what to do. But, as your big brother, can I at least ask you to stay until I get Maya's car? Once I have it we'll go together to see about Morgana. Safety in numbers, okay? Can you do that?”

  Taylor's nostrils flared, and her fingers tapped against crossed arms, but after a few seconds she nodded. “Okay.”

  Kyle gave her a slow nod. “Thanks, Piglet.”

  “Fine. And stop calling me that. I'm a little old for it.”

  “You'll always be my Piglet,” Kyle told her with a pat on her leg. “No matter how old you get.” He then reached down and pulled out the Smith & Wesson. “Okay, you two wait here and I'll be right back.”

  Before he could unlock his door and open it, Maya said, “You actually think you're going to run off and leave me behind again? In case you don't recall, that didn't work out too well for me last time. Where you and that gun go, so go I.”

  “Jesus H.” Kyle closed his eyes and set the gun down on the center console before his twitching fingers could pull the trigger and blow his balls off. “Why can't you two just do as you’re told?” He took a moment to breathe deeply, filling his lungs with cool, calm air. “Fine. Fuck it . Whatever. Taylor, I hope you wait here. If you do, keep your head down and the doors locked. Maya, if you're coming, all I ask is that you stick close and stay behind me. Okay?”

  Maya nodded, her face all business.

  “Alright, then let's do this.” Kyle checked the .40 cal out of habit, opened his door, and exited the Jeep. As his feet touched asphalt, the skies opened up and poured buckets of wet misery down on his head. “Perfect.”

  Interlude- Come the Shadows

  For days Ash had stood on the ledge that hung over the deep mountain cavern, the sole marker of time he cared for being the water level as it dropped inch by aching inch. Problems big and small reared their heads, but through them all he'd never left the cavern. At his feet, discarded remnants of who he'd used to be piled up slowly – a nose here, an ear there, a fingernail or tooth to add some texture. He was barely human anymore, and he couldn't have cared less. The only thing that mattered was the shrinking pool of water below him.

  Small ripples spread across the pool's surface as things moved beneath it. His black eyes gazed in fascination, anxious to see signs of his god's awakening. Tendrils flicked through the water, but he knew the Dark One was still in the grip of its millennial sleep. That grip was slipping, though, and as consciousness slowly returned, the god's monstrous body moved.

  As more flesh writhed in the water, suddenly bubbles boiled to the top, and what little remained of Ash's prick hardened. The dark dreams of his god receded from his mind, the glorious visions of the past lifted like a heavy fog, and a hum took their place. The droning noise sounded like a hundred voices all singing as one from a great distance. He could barely hear it, but it was there, and the dark song was as beautiful as it was dreadful.

  The Dark One was nearly awake!

  A tear fell from his midnight eyes, the droplet slowly making its way across cracked skin to hover like poisoned rain at the corner of his mouth. But, before it fell, a light shined from the depths of the retreating water. It was scarcely able to filter through the muck and shifting tentacles, but the greenish-red light gleamed from the depths and sparkled aga
inst the teardrop. Ash looked down in wonder at the shimmering light, and as it filled his black eyes, the voices sang louder in his head.

  “It’s coming,” he said to himself. “The Dark One rises.”

  Ash trembled in the glory of his awakening god, and he knew that beyond the mountain Stillwater trembled too as its people transformed into monsters under the Dark One’s will. In the distance, through miles of twisting tunnel, he heard men screaming in pain, wailing like babies torn from their mothers' desiccated wombs. They were being reborn, remade from the inside out, and the process was as painful as it was magnificent.

  In the receding waters below, massive tendrils lashed and spasmed, churning the dark water into foam. A body was becoming visible beneath the tentacles, a bloated twitching mass that – even from what little could be seen of it – seemed colossal. Ash couldn't begin to understand what event had transpired to force its bulk into the dark belly of the mountain, but as he gazed down on it he decided it didn't matter. Soon it would rise, and the mountain would crumble around it. The Dark One would be reborn, and then the world would be reborn with it, birthed in fire and blood and screams.

  A laugh fell from Ash's mouth, but the sound became a scream when a terrible pain exploded in his chest, driving him to the ground. He was on fire, every cell of his body vibrating so quickly he could feel himself burn. His gums burst, filling his mouth with brackish blood as the last of his teeth were pushed out by jagged fangs. Hard claws the iridescent color of a beetle's shell shredded the ends of his fingers, the pain of it so intense his hands curled into tight fists, driving the claws into his palm. The wounds seeped blood the color and consistency of molasses, but they rapidly healed. His bones throbbed, shattered, reset, shattered again, and then reformed into twisted versions of themselves, as strong as they were deformed. Layers of doughy white skin sloughed off his body, revealing mottled gray flesh like the underbelly of a fish that had never ventured from its murky depths.