Out There: A Rural Horror Story

by Cademon Bishop

  “Do you see any of them demon things out there?” Michael gripped the umbrella close to his chest as he entered the thicket of the forest.

  “Well!” Cassiel spoke in a voice too courageous for comfort. “I see everything, and yes, there are no threats on your path.” Michael paused, unsure of which way to go. He followed one of the hollowed-out holes in the woods, hoping it would lead somewhere. “You need to turn a little to your right, then you’re good from there on out.” Trees parted like the red sea on either side of him. He watched the faint highlights of fallen lumber come into the aura of umbrella glow. Rain reflected the gloss over the scratched bark and blackened brush. Steam enveloped the area in a thick fog.

  The encasing darkness made Michael’s mind call back to the forest that he ambled along with Jude, however here there was fear, pain, and time. He could feel the weight of every second. His knees were still worn from trying to outrun the rain and the smell of smoke became repugnant. Something had set the forest ablaze and diminished it just as quick. The noises here were far less beautiful than the forest from hell. Rain roared on the treetops like TV static with the volume turned to ten, and frogs ticked and whirled like drunken drumbeats. Michael kept silent for a few minutes, as he soaked in the world he both despised and adored.

  “Your wife died, and you were at your daughter in your story.” Michael said into the silence.

  “Oh, I was hoping you would bring that up,” Michael could feel the emptiness where Cassiel once resided as he spoke from the umbrella. It’s better this way, Michael thought, I ain’t gonna feel alone out here in this pitch-black unknown. “Right, let’s see, ah yes. My wife, Althea Glass, passed away. I have a theory that your friend Lara might be connected to her. Lara stuck out to me as I looked through your memories. I lost track of where my family's exact when I went back up to the overworld.”

  “You think she could be relative of yours?” Michael asked as he surveyed the screw of burnt trees around him.

  “I think… she’s a part of the first-born line. I thought that spacial shift we took at the Beaumont Lodge was some mess in your world. I think when I wrap the story up, we’ll come to an understanding.” Michael continued his blind hike as he listened to Cassiel. “In 1863, my daughter, Scarlet, ventured into the wilderness. I searched for her and discovered that she settled in Lexington and married a man. By the time I arrived, she already had two children.

  “At first, I assumed that everything was okay, but Scarlet had an angelic aura to her. She could light up the dark whenever she wanted. Her hands and her entire body could reflect this glow. Having a heavenly hybrid of a person is a massive issue. Usually, beings from down there would discover this and thunder misfortune on them, but I found them first and stood guard. I couldn’t stop, they were a part of me. I had this unrelenting feeling that I had to protect her. I knew I must halt this issue from the source, but chaos kept me glued to them.

  “My spirit oversaw her two children. I formed into an aged version of my physical form to make sure that they had no drop of divine ichor with them. It all seemed fine; however, the problem was with their dreams. One of the sons seemed fine, but the oldest had strange things. I was able to peer into his mind but never fully. I could go into half the family’s dreams with ease, the oldest son and Scarlet were odd. You can’t merge within the space of an angel. Because it isn’t a space, it a… It doesn’t really matter right now.

  “I let her son grow up hoping the angelic blood would fizzle out of his body, but that wasn’t the case. He settled down into what would soon be Joselean Springs. In fact, he was the man who borough the springs. He could control water and would use it only to irrigate crops. I wanted to watch him grow, but I couldn’t make the same mistake, I broke free and retreated towards the-” Michael halted his hike. “Is everything alright?”

  “D-d-d, do ya see that thing?” Michael whispered, as he pointed out in front of him. Down the muddy scorched path something protruded out of the darkness. It looked like a one of the shadowy dead, but its form was too large. Michael almost mistook it for one of the trees if it didn’t have a hazy gloss. “Well, do we go around it or what?”

  “The being is dead.”

  “Dead?!” Michael felt stupid as they almost shouted in confusion at the umbrella.

  “As deceased as an Elder One can be. Go on, examine it.”

  Michael stepped back. “The heck? An Elder One? What if it wakes up when I get near it?”

  “Michael, there’s no need to be afraid. Walk around it if your heart so desires.” Michael faded into the poles of the trees as he stooped around the being. He watched the umbrella’s frost white light reflect on its body. The Elder One was mammoth, human-like thing three times Michael’s height as lay. The being’s spine made dull protrusions up his back. It gripped a tree trunk in one hand. It slumped on its knees as if it were in deep prayer. Michael moved around it, searching for a face, yet only saw a round nub slumped into the dirt where its face should have belonged.

  “Does it have eyes?” Michael whispered around the hibernating bear of a being.

  “Well, yes, and no. It only has the features required of it since it is in a human world; it molds itself into your space.” Shards of porcine squished in the mud around Michael, producing a high pitch cracking sound as he stepped forward. “And that was its mask,” Cassiel said as Michael bent down and picked up a shard.

  Michael spun the muddied chunk in his palms, “what does it need a mask for?” He dropped it and continued on. His knees produced dull throbs as he hiked over the scorched earth.

  “It’s done that since the beginning of time. It chose a mask with humans. Its existence is to correct inconstancies within the universe. The Elder Ones are like the horses of your world. Say you see a horse off in a field somewhere, you don’t know where it’s from, but it surely has some purpose for how it moves, and all you can do is look at it and admire it grazing there.”

  Michael resisted looking back at the thing as he trudged on. “I’ll treat it like a horse then… you were at your grandson.”

  “Oh right, the heavens debated my case. The problem with it was that the lineage went too far, and heaven couldn’t kill them. They needed to die of natural causes and the angelic blood was a whole other mess. The issue seeped down into the underworld. They proposed that we create natural things to destroy them. The overworld declined, and the great debate began. The underworld wanted to just outright kill the line, but we refused and urged that their death needed to be balanced. During this debate, three more generations passed. We sectioned off the town after we felt the presence of another child with the angelic blood. We sectioned the land from time and space a between lands, but something kept it hidden.”

  “Hold on. How was that demon hole formed?”

  “The one you tore up like a Christmas present?” Cassiel asked out of the umbrella.

  “Yeah, uh, that.”

  “Well, things escalated to the point of an all-out war and became physical on the land. We ordered two beings to seal the holes where remnants of our dispute lay. Then a strange act of faith and stupidity opened both.”

  “Both?” Michael said as he weaved between the trees. He pressed his hand on one for support and saw that a thin layer of ash painted his palm.

  “Correct! There were two spots, it looks like they both are destroyed now. About the rain-”

  “Wait, so the rain was your fault too?” Michael stood still and gripped the umbrella with an uncomfortable mix of anger and confusion.

  “No… I mean, I was the spark for it,” Cassiel contested. “The overworld chose the rain at the underworlds request. It was natural with their dark flare… All to stop my mistake. I’m confident the undead was a secret on the underworlds part.”

  Michael wanted to drop the glowing umbrella and walk on without him but knew the rain would devour him if he tried, “So is everything going to just fall, unless… No.”

  “We might have to do something with Lar
a. I’m sorry, Michael, I think it’s either her or the town… I won’t force you to decide.”

  Michael slowed his pace but kept on trudging, “Well, can’t we just do both somehow, like somehow fix the town and her?”

  “Michael, it’s already too far. Both worlds have opened up and may have a war on this land.”

  “Why haven’t you all just gone and done it already?”

  “You know as well as I do that, we can’t do that. That is the underworlds ways, we can only follow a ‘natural way’. Letting one order slip has a domino effect on the energy of the world. If you want us to toss a boulder upon her, she will have the free will to dodge it.”

  “Ya know, I think a good question is what’s my part in all of this if you sent your divine self to me?” Michael felt a guilty pleasure in the anger in his voice.

  “The reason I chose you was that you believed. Every person in my linage finds it near impossible to believe in anything, that’s how I lose track of them. My hypotheses is that their blood lets them know the universe is always within themselves. I chose you because I felt your pain. I was sent to help each time you became sick… I’ve watched you come close to death almost a dozen times now… I wanted to help you.”

  Silence followed. Michael looked back to see if that large being was trailing behind and found nothing. He trudged on, stomach twisting at the thought that all he had to do was stab her, and it would all be over. It’s like taking bad medicine… but you still love her… like you know what love is.

  “Do you think this town could end in anything other than war?” Michael mumbled. He felt his lungs shiver with each step.

  “The first shot was fired. There is nothing we can do but wait… you remember when I told you that your land would break?”

  “Yeah… should I assume that’s another lie?”

  “No. That date is ingrained in my head, we have less than a day… something is bound to happen… I can’t say what.”

  Michael saw something glint in the distance. As the umbrella bobbed with his steps, he watched a yellow reflection bounce back towards him. It was a metal turn sign. Michael never felt so relieved to see a bit of town in his entire life.

  He tried to run, but his legs wouldn’t let him. He felt as though they would rip apart if he pushed himself anymore. Tears swelled as he stumbled out of the woods and onto a paved road.

  “I’m here, I’ve made it,” he said to the yellow turn warning sign as he leaned against it. “I made it, I made it, it only took to hell and back, but I made it” A tear glided down his left cheek. The umbrella slipped out of his hand. Fear seized him for a moment, but it remained glowing in the air. You made it. You had to go through Hell and back but you finally made it. Michael laughed and wept at the same time.

  He was home.

  “Michael, stay alert!” Cassiel’s light diminished.

  “Huh, wha, what?” Michael reached in the air for Cassiel. “What is it?” He glanced up and noticed. It flickered between the trees with twin moon eyes. He could hear its roar as it twisted down the road.

  A car swerved over the road.

  Michael stood in the side ditch of the road, mud stained his knees and ashes blackened his palms. The vehicle slowed, its headlights blinding Michael’s eyes. He watched the rain dance on its cherry red hood. He had never seen a car so new.

  “Hey, what are you doing all the way out here?” A man without said as he unrolled down the driver's side window.

  “Uhh, walkin’,”

  “Walking!?… haven’t you heard the news?”

  Michael cocked his head dried his eyes, “What news?”

  “Jesus… here, get in! Toss that umbrella in the back.” His voice felt familiar, but he couldn’t tell where he heard it from. He studied the man’s face in the car’s interior lights. Mustache, brushed-back hair, dirty blond, no accent. I’ve never seen this man in my entire life. “You got no clue as to what’s going at all? Do you have a radio, or did you hear the sirens?”

  “No. Guess I walked too far in the forest and didn’t hear it.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t be outdoors anyways… Here, listen to this… what’s your name?”

  “Michael.” The radio repeated the same broadcast warning.

  “Jesus, you could have died out there. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself.” The man shifted the BMW into gear as he drove down the winding road. “Name’s, Harvey.”

  Side C Track 13

  Lamplight

  The night of Abe’s death, I typed till I could feel the tips of my fingers throb with the imprints of the keys. I kept the TV on for background noise long after the sign-off played. I learned that if I had something else to take my spur of the movement thoughts, I could actually think. When I typed at home, I would fall into a spell of distraction. Pouring drinks because I was thirsty or playing another record just to make sure my copy of “Whip Cream and Other Delights” was there—which it always was.

  Writing in the town was different, it was writing with a passion; however, passion isn’t free from spoiling. What I typed was an absolute garbage spur of the day. Maybe it was my way to cope with Abe’s death and what I had done to Debbie. I wrote my retelling for the same reason, and to understand the aftermath of Joselean Springs. The event was an eclipse of rationally and irrationality, belief, and disbelief. People told their tales, I made it my job to collect them and show it to the world. I could have typed on for four hours, but I lulled at the keys and spurred sentences which all boiled down to one message: get some rest. The hotel room felt all too quiet as I lay my head down. I used to despise Abe’s snoring, however, the air felt empty without it.

  I received a call from Stockwell in the morning. He would usually greet with that same copy and pasted greeting, but this time it was different, this time it was serious. Skipping past a good morning, Stockwell said he sent out an armored vehicle and that I needed to evacuate immediately. He gave me no explanation other than that it was an emergency. I loaded my suitcase, bag, and typewriter and huddled into the van.

  The two men in the driver’s seat said little to me. I tried to listen to their small talk but was out of the loop on their inside jokes. They left me in the back to watch their crew-cut heads bob as they spoke. It felt as though a festival broke out at the base. Everyone wore the same hooded jacket with thick rubber with and a plastic masks. Men scurried between tents to deliver supplies and messages. The white tents, which once were in a neat row, were now a shotgun disperse of canopies, vehicles, and machines. The spotlights made the rain look like snow as it highlighted the light shower. Three men in camo rain suits hammered a makeshift wall into the ground.

  Stockwell tossed me a brown rain jacket and said I looked ridiculous in a poncho. He told me that the little red dots I saw on that machine last time were now spread across the town. I updated him on the town’s ‘devil’ and showed him the folder with the address. He tried to explain the inner workings of the machine and how they made it but nothing made sense. I just shook his hand and said I’ll be on my way.

  First, I drove to the house written on the school folder. It was a small white shack in the middle of nowhere. An eerie feeling came over me the second I strolled up its worn wooden steps. They kept the rooms dark.

  Everything felt as if I were looking into an open casket. Tattered oat tan couches replaced the cadaver’s sunken cheekbones and peeling wallpaper replaced the sagging skin. I tried knocking but after 5 minutes but all I heard was silence. This door was the entrance to everything I worked towards. I wouldn’t let one knock be the end of it. I knocked once more with more force, and the heel of my shoe.

  The door swung open with a crack. I scoured the place like a grave robber—all I found were bones. There were photos in a closet that matched the yearbook photo. My mind was an echo chamber in that cadaverous shack of a home. I swore I heard a breath for a fraction of a second. I jumped back, but nothing was there. Fear turned into sadness as a sound echoed through my mind. It was an exhale o
f breath; the same huff Abe would make.

  I hopped out of that house as soon as possible and sat in the car for a long while, trying to comprehend that I just went down another dead end. After all this searching, this was it. I mustered the courage to go inside once more. In my second search, I found a baseball cap with ‘Walling’s Convenience Store’ written on the front.

  The store was another dead end. The ‘Devil of Joselean Springs’ name was written clear as day in its employee files. There was no sign of life thought the store, everything was closed, and everyone was ordered to stay inside. I always thought the town was dead, but now I knew it was merely on life support, and the government came in and pulled the plug.

  I went back to the house, this time with no fear within me. I opened every cabinet, read every file, dug through the beer bottle flooded trash can, and found nothing. I searched outside, under the rotting patio and in the rust iron mailbox.

  When I looked at the backyard, I saw three shadows ambling off in the tan grass fields, like a herd of deer. The group was too far to see me as I peeked around the corner. I went into every room, tossed cigarette boxes, looked on the scant bookshelf, flipped through empty notebooks, still nothing. It was getting late, and I was just about to give up. The only clue I managed to find was tucked between the fridge and a cabinet, a yellowing note that had slipped through the crack. There were two addresses with two names, ‘Michael’ and ‘Donna’.

  Twilight set in as I drove towards the two places. I cruised through the forest, unaware that this path would be finally lead me towards the devil. As I turned along the winding trails, I trapped the biggest lead yet.

  Side B Track 13 “Headlight”

  “So the names Michael?” Harvey asked.

  “Sure is.”

  “Just wanted to make sure.” A child like grin crept on Harvey’s face as he gripped the steering wheel. “You didn’t see a single one of them shadow things off in the woods?”