The Pit in the Woods: A Mercy Falls Mythos

by Nathaniel Reed

  “You lie!” his mother screamed. “You knew I was ill!”

  “If I’d known I would have looked after you.”

  “You never cared about anyone but yourself. You’re a selfish,

  pitiful excuse for a son.”

  “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Blake screamed, covering his ears.

  It’s all in your head, Jeremy said, sending him the thought without even realizing it. Block her out. Blake’s eyes opened wide as he looked over at Jeremy.

  “I hate you Blake,” his mother continued. “How could I ever love a son as selfish and worthless as you?”

  Picking up the thoughts in his head, Jeremy screamed back. “Shut up you lying bitch! You’re not Blake’s mother!”

  At this the thing parading as Blake’s mother wailed inside both their heads. They clamped their hands over their ears against the assault, much good that it did. The sound was in their heads.

  “Get the fuck out!” Jeremy shouted. The thing let out an agonized wail, and was gone. The image of his mother slowly dissolved and dissipated before Blake’s eyes. He looked at Jeremy with astonishment.

  “How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know,” Jeremy admitted.

  Blake nodded, as if that were answer enough. “Well, keep doing it.”

  “Sorry I called your mom a bitch.”

  Blake smiled, patting him on the back. “It’s quite all right. She was a good mother for the most part, but I’ve thought that a few times myself.”

  “You let him kill me,” a sad teary Betty stood before Staci.

  “No, no, sweetheart, I…” Staci began, although she knew it was a trick.

  “You’re nothing but a punk,” Johnny’s stepdad (much beefier, muscular, and menacing than Johnny remembered) said. He realized this is how he’d seen him as a little kid; his stepfather had never been that big. “I should knock some sense into you.”

  “That’s a neat trick DICK!” Johnny said. “I haven’t been afraid of you for a while now.” He cocked his head back, extended his arms out and shouted, “Is that the best you got you bloodsucking shitheads?!”

  “They’re not giving up,” Blake said, grinning. “They’re afraid of us. They’re trying to break us down.”

  Staci shook her head at Betty, and said matter-of-factly, “He had no choice but to kill you. It was none of our faults.” Betty disappeared.

  “You’re right,” Myron said. “I can feel their fear.”

  “Go fuck off you wannabe father,” Johnny said. “You’re about as real to me as my actual stepdad was.” The image of his stepfather faded away like a ghost.

  A horrible wail that hurt their ears echoed through the rock. The cavern suddenly filled with demonic faces, ghostly voices, bats, twisted visages, three headed dogs, and all manner of monstrosities; spiders and maggots, trees birthing hideous fetuses, giant mutant lobsters, swarms of bees and locusts.

  “None of its real!” Blake yelled over the cacophony. They were all seeing the terrible images. They clasped their hands over their ears, shut their eyes, and huddled together.

  “Hold on to each other!” Blake cried. “It will all go away soon!” But it seemed to go on forever. They shivered in each other’s arms.

  “Not real,” Jeremy said. Not real, he heard them all repeat in his head.

  Not real, he said, sending the thought out. Not real, their thoughts came back.

  Not real, not real, not real, they repeated. Through their minds they formed a chain, linked to Jeremy’s. Over and over they repeated the words, NOT REAL, a chant, until the wails, and the cries, and the voices diminished, until they ceased. And they opened their eyes, and all the horrors were gone.

  40

  “Why are we going on?” Johnny asked. “We came for Betty.

  Betty’s gone.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?!” Blake said. “We’re going on because we have to avenge her. We need to wipe every last one of these bloodsucking scourge off the face of the earth!”

  “Johnny’s right Blake,” Tony said. “It’s a suicide mission. We should go back.”

  “We CAN’T go back! They already know we’re here! Do you think they’ll let us get out alive? Besides, we have to find the keys to free the prisoners.”

  “This isn’t about prisoners,” Staci said. “This is about you. We know Blake. We know you lost someone. But it doesn’t have to end here. We have to pick our battles. What good is revenge if we all wind up dead?”

  Blake was impressed. “Wise girl. In another time and place I might have listened, but not today. You’ve all done your part. You can leave now if you wish. I’ll continue on.”

  “Blake, you know we can’t leave you down here by yourself,” Johnny said.

  “Ah, but you must,” Blake said. “This is my battle, and I should never have gotten you kids involved.”

  There was a low growling up ahead as they entered the next cavern. The dim firelight only lit the first half of it. Beyond that there was darkness. And from that darkness came the low padding of furred feet, the unmistakable smell of canine, and finally the red glow of the reflected fire in their eyes. There were seven of them. The wolves moved toward them, forming a semi-circle. The low growling that issued from them became thicker, angrier. Saliva dribbled from their bared teeth, hackles raised, and eyes bright with menace.

  “Too late,” Jeremy said.

  41

  They elevated their weapons. The wolves all leapt at once. Two of them leapt at Blake, sensing he was the strongest. He fired. The rapid burst was enough to stop one dead in midair. Even with a sweeping motion he only managed to graze the second. With its speed and strength it toppled him over, the wolf’s muzzle at his neck, chomping the air an inch away from flesh, as he struggled to hold it back. Splatterer clattered to the ground.

  Staci fired an arrow from her crossbow at the wolf attacking her. With its small size and swiftness it was virtually impossible to get it in the heart. She shot blind, yet managed to pierce one of its eyes. The wolf-thing twirled in mid-flight, yelping as it fell to the ground, twitching.

  Johnny shot several rounds from his .45, the first two taking his wolf in the flank, the third and fourth completely missing, and the fifth shot, which appeared to be a silver bullet (he realized this from the wolf’s reaction), penetrated the top of his haunch. While the first two bullets hurt and slowed its leap, the last all but paralyzed it. It rolled on the ground, in obvious pain, growing pale.

  Jeremy flicked his whip at the oncoming wolf, lashing his side. The wolf dropped to the ground, sitting on its hind legs, still quite alive, growling at him from twenty feet away. The gash was an obvious bright red diagonal wound cutting through the fur at its side. The wolf was struggling back up. The whip had an excellent reach and Jeremy was ready.

  Myron only had a stake to his name, and he knew right away it would be insufficient. He couldn’t let the wolf get that close. He ducked, just in case, even as he reached for one of the vials of holy water at his belt. The wolf was only two feet from him overhead when he threw the vial. It smashed on the wolf’s head, the reaction instantaneous. As it fell to the ground, the fur atop its head began to dissolve. The wolf yowled, water running down its face. The wolf’s eyes began to droop and slide down its muzzle.

  Tony had no time to grab anything else. He dropped to the ground on one knee and raised the hunting knife, as the animal leapt over him, overshooting, and he plunged the knife into its belly, ripping from front to back, aided by the creature’s own momentum. Blood gushed onto his face, temporarily blindly Tony. The wolf crashed head first into the wall behind him.

  Blake continued to struggle with his wolf, but it seemed to be growing weaker. He realized the creature’s fur was rubbing against his garlic necklace. Only when it went into a fit of uncontrollable sneezing did he know for certain that was indeed what was affecting it. Because of its size and strength he could still not get the thing off him, but at least it was too busy sneezing to chomp
at his neck. But Blake’s hands were too busy holding it back to grab another weapon.

  “Staci! Shoot it with your crossbow!” Blake shouted.

  She turned toward him with her crossbow raised, but paused. “I don’t want to hit you!”

  “You won’t! Just do it! Shoot girl! It’s now or never!”

  Staci did, letting an arrow fly, piercing the wolf’s side. Between the sneezing and the arrow, the wolf seemed to lose all its strength, which was exactly what Blake had hoped for. He was able to get one hand free and he felt for one of the grenades, wrapped his fingers around it while pulling the pin.

  Blake stuffed the grenade into its open sneezing maw. “Suck on this!” He lifted the struggling wolf with both his hands and flung him into the air, away from him. It exploded in a cloud of fur and teeth and entrails.

  42

  The whip cracked and cut a crosswise slash through the beast’s face as the wolf flew at Jeremy again. It emitted a terrible whine, as it dropped down again. Jeremy did not give himself a chance to pity the thing. He whipped it again as it lay prone on the ground; again and again. He could not give it a chance to recover. Blake moved in, gun in hand again, and fired, turning its head and brain to mush.

  “Just as good as decapitation,” Blake said. Jeremy felt sick.

  Blake walked over to the wolf Staci had shot in the eye, which was even now making a slow crawl toward them, kicked it over, and staked it in the heart. The wolf Tony had nearly gutted lay on its side, bleeding out and weak, but still very much alive. Blake changed that, decapitating it as well, with another short eruption from his gun. Blake staked the wolf suffering silver poisoning from Johnny’s bullet. Myron’s wolf was essentially a goner already, the holy water having completely dissolved the top half of its head, leaving only a bloody lower jaw atop its furry frame.

  He surveyed the damage, looking from one to the other, and said, “Good work friends. You are officially vampire hunters.”

  They tried to smile and take the compliment in stride, which was made more difficult when moments later the wolf corpses became mortal.

  43

  The wolf Staci had felled metamorphosed into a nude human male with an arrow in its eye, and a large gaping chest wound. Its open mouth revealed sharp wolf teeth, then vampiric fangs, until those too receded; its fur lined body shifting from padded feet to nearly hairless human arms and legs. The wolf Johnny had poisoned underwent a similar transformation. The others that were missing their heads (or more appropriately had their heads mashed in) were simply too gruesome to look at. Even Blake had to turn away after a second.

  Jeremy frowned at Blake. “How do you do it, day in and day out?”

  “Sometimes I don’t run into one for months.” They stared at him. “I try not to think about how.”

  They didn’t completely understand, but they respected his

  unfaltering devotion to what he did, and perhaps that was why they followed him further into the tunnels without dissent.

  44

  “What is that?” Tony said, sometime later.

  “Something overhead,” Staci decided.

  “A pitter patter,” Blake concluded. “Too far down to tell accurately, but I think its rain.”

  “Must be coming on real strong if we can hear it down here,” Johnny said.

  “Must be,” Blake agreed.

  “Where to?” Jeremy said. There were several tunnels ahead of them.

  “I just want to be moving somewhere,” Myron said. “When I stand still I get the creeps.”

  “You and me both pal,” Johnny said.

  “Left,” Blake said, “Take the left.”

  “Why left?” Staci wondered.

  Blake shrugged. “Seems as good a choice as any.”

  “Blake, our industrious leader!” Johnny exclaimed.

  Blake cracked a smile. “Yes, well, no one ever said I was perfect.”

  They veered into the left tunnel.

  “We’re getting close,” Blake said.

  “You keep saying that,” Johnny pointed out.

  “He’s right,” Jeremy said. “I can hear them, whispering in my head.”

  “What are they saying?” Staci asked.

  Jeremy turned to her, shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. Brains, maybe?”

  “That is not funny,” Myron said. “Besides, that is zombies.”

  “Still undead,” Tony said.

  “Right you are,” Blake said.

  “What are they waiting for?” Staci said. “I mean, can’t they

  just fly up to meet us?”

  Blake shook his head. “They know we’re armed, and more likely than not that we’ve just dispatched their pack of wolves. They’re going to wait until we’re on their turf, where they’ll be plenty more of them, not just a handful.”

  “Great,” Myron said.

  “How are we going to fight them off exactly?” Staci asked.

  “With everything we’ve got,” Blake replied. “Raise your crosses. You never know when one might decide to pop up.”

  “Just for shits and giggles?” Johnny suggested.

  “Something like that,” Blake said.

  45

  Betty Leesburg’s mother awoke in her hospital room, a little after one p.m. She placed her hand on her blood soaked bandaged neck. She didn’t feel any pain, just the sensation of the gauze material. It was a miracle she was alive. She’d heard the staff say as much while she fluttered in and out of sleep. Dana Leesburg was a lucky woman, they said. But she didn’t feel so lucky. Her only daughter had attacked her, bit her, tried to kill her, and she had no idea why. And what became of Steve, her husband?

  The doctor walked in, “Nurse, she’s awake! Just relax Mrs. Leesburg. It’ll all be…”

  She ripped out his throat.

  Outside the windows, the rain poured down from black clouds, turning day into dusk.

  46

  “They’re getting close,” Marcus said.

  “Yes, I can smell them,” Lucio added.

  Marcus surveyed the room from his throne, one of several

  throughout their underground lair. “I count twenty-five, perhaps twenty-six heads! Where are the rest?!” Marcus inquired angrily.

  “Sir, they’re most likely standing sentry throughout the cavern system,” Arianna said, “Although, to be sure, some must still be asleep.”

  “With this unearthly racket?!” Marcus spoke of the rain, taking care not to mention God, that almighty thorn in his side and ass.

  “Is it time?” Lucio asked.

  Marcus looked at him questioningly.

  “Should we send the girl?” Lucio clarified.

  Marcus grinned, nodding understanding. “Yes, by all means, send the girl! I think it’s about time we truly break the old man.”

  “Consider it done,” Lucio said, walking off.

  “Oh Lucio?”

  “Yes master?” he turned.

  “Don’t go off too far. I want you by my side son, when we finish them off.”

  Lucio grinned. It was the grin of a shark.

  47

  “Don’t forget, we need to keep on the lookout for the keys. Search all of your kills.” Blake said, “None on the last bunch, for obvious reasons.”

  “And free the prisoners on the way back,” Tony said. Assuming they made it back, as one of the prisoners had pointed out.

  Blake pushed forward with gusto until something stopped him dead in his tracks at the next opening.

  “Blake?” Johnny said. “What the fuck’s wrong with him?” He looked around at the others. They couldn’t see what Blake was seeing, because they were behind him, on the other side of the entrance, and Blake blocked the opening.

  “Another hallucination?” Staci said.

  “I don’t think so. He’s too still,” Tony said. And he wasn’t interacting. He wasn’t speaking at all. Tony used his muscle to push around Blake. The rest squeezed through the opening he’d created, gathering around Blake.
<
br />   Before him stood a woman, a young woman in her early twenties, very beautiful, with long black silky hair. Blake stood as if mesmerized, but they didn’t believe he was. He didn’t seem to be under her powers, just speechless. “Are we all seeing this?” Tony asked to make sure. They were.

  “It can’t be,” Blake spoke at last. “After all these years, I thought for sure you were dead,” Blake said, “Vivien?”

  “Vivien,” Myron said, “Who is Vivien?”

  Shrugs.

  “You can’t be, unless you’re one of…” Blake shook his head, tearing up. “Oh, my poor sweet Vivien, what have they done to you?” He knew the answer.

  Vivien smiled sweetly and said, “Hello Daddy.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  REUNION

  (2014)

  1

  September

  The harshness of the white fluorescent lighting in his hospital room was distracting enough that not even raising the volume on the television and keeping his eyes glued to the action on the screen (some old cop show re-run where Cheech Marin had just smacked a random baddie in the face with a dead fish) could keep his eyes from wandering back up to the ceiling.

  He wished he had a dimmer switch by his bedside. He supposed he could flick the light switch and turn the nightstand lamp on, but he didn’t feel like getting up. The worst part of heart disease was the sapping away of his strength. Now silver-haired and dying slowly Fulton Blake wanted nothing more but to lay in bed until the sweet merciful end came. But he couldn’t leave the world without fulfilling his last duty. He couldn’t rest soundly until he knew that there would be someone here to stop them, to defend the innocent. He had to send Eve, blessed Eve. Who knew she would have lasted this long; she’d turned out to be his greatest ally in a long time, fighting alongside him.

  Blake’s mind wandered as it so often did these days, so that he was no longer looking up at the ceiling or the TV. He stared off into the distance, alone in his room, the bed to his right empty. He barely noticed when they wheeled the new patient in. The harsh lighting actually distracted from the patient’s deathly pallor, or else Blake might have become alarmed, had he been paying attention.