Whisper: The untold stories

by Bray, Michael

  “A few hours ago, Henry Marshall escaped from Creasefield hospital.”

  He paused to let it sink in. The others looked to each other, and even Dave seemed shaken by the news.

  “Surely he wouldn’t come here, not if he’s escaped. He’d go on the run.” Dani said, trying to convince herself more than the others.

  “No, you’re wrong,” Kimmel said. “I think this is the only place he would go. This is his town. His home.”

  “Wait, are you saying he’s here?” Lucy said, her voice cracking.

  “I don’t think so. There are roadblocks as well as a large scale manhunt. I think if he has any sense he will be laying low. I do think he’ll try to make his way here, though.”

  “So what do we do next?” Dave asked.

  “We go to the hotel. We set up camp and then first thing tomorrow we go look for your friend and get out of here.”

  “And what about us? What protection do we have from these things you talk about?”

  “Numbers. We stay together. Nobody goes anywhere alone. Make no mistake, this place is incredibly dangerous.”

  “You said we would be safe across the bridge.”

  “No,” Kimmel said with a shake of his head. “I said it would be safer. Not safe. The thing in the trees, call it a presence or whatever you want. Is getting stronger. It’s spreading. We need to find your friend and get the hell out of here before we get added to the history of this place. Now come on, we have a lot of work to do in order to set up a camp.”

  Kimmel strode towards the hotel. With no other option, the others fell into line and followed him. Around them, the trees swayed and danced and spoke their secret words.

  IV

  Night came quickly, shrouding the broken remains of the hotel in its suffocating embrace. Fortunately for Kimmel and the others, there were clear skies and a full moon, which gave some visibility, however not enough to ease their nerves. They had lit a fire, and parked both the van and Kimmel’s car up against the wall of the hotel, effectively boxing themselves in. For the explorers it brought comfort. For Kimmel, it did nothing. He knew well enough it was woefully inadequate. For the sake of the others, he said nothing. He sat by the fire, enjoying the warmth and letting the others deal with the situation in their own individual way. He watched the flames, listening to the hiss and crackle of branches as they burned. He could feel the others watching him, and turned to Dave, his eyes invisible as his glasses reflected the firelight.

  “What?”

  “What?” Dave repeated.

  “You were watching me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Whatever you want to say, spit it out,” Kimmel said.

  “When we were building the fire, you were trying to radio out.”

  “I was.”

  “Who were you trying to contact?”

  Kimmel warmed his hands by the flames, then exhaled, breath fogging in the chilly air.

  “I tried to contact fisher. I thought he might be able to get out here and help us.”

  “You spoke to him?”

  “No, he’s almost impossible to get a hold of these days. I left a message, although god only knows if they will even pass it on to him.”

  They sat, both staring into the fire. Dave shuffled and pushed his glasses up his face.

  “Mr. Kimmel, Do you think this friend of yours will come and help us?” Lucy asked.

  Kimmel sighed, and took out his cigarettes, lighting it in the fire and taking a deep drag, exhaling smoke through his nose.

  “If he gets the message he might. Fisher knows well enough how bad this place is. As to if he can or will come here, well, that’s another question, isn’t it?”

  “What happened to you here?” Dani asked, sitting opposite Kimmel, the flames dancing in her eyes.

  “To me personally, nothing worth talking about. It was my men who suffered.”

  “You don’t have to talk about it, I was just curious.”

  “No, it’s okay. I never went into it. Telling you might give you an idea of what we’re dealing with here.”

  He looked at the three faces flickering in the firelight as he dug up long buried memories. Telling it at all was bad enough. Telling it here, sitting with the hotel at his back was surreal.

  “My squad and I were here for three weeks before we were driven out. Of course, hindsight tells me we should have gone as soon as things started to happen. Back then though I was arrogant, unwilling to accept what my eyes and ears were telling me. It wasn’t until my men started to die that I realised I needed to go, orders or no orders.”

  The others were watching, waiting for him to go on.

  “The first of my men to be affected hung himself just there,” Kimmel said, nodding to a spot out of sight across the car park. “Nobody knew why. His friends said he’d been quiet, withdrawn. He’d gone out to the clearing, escorting our scientists whilst they did their work.”

  “Why did you have scientists out here?” Dave asked.

  “Does it matter? I was just following orders. All I needed to know was that my superiors wanted results and fast. I received word from Washington that they were sending out some of their best people. These were science people of course, not soldiers. We were already struggling to handle the stuff that was going on here and to be fair to them, it was a losing battle from the start.”

  “You experienced things? Paranormal things?” Lucy asked, unable to help looking over her shoulder into the dark.

  “I don’t like that word. I’m not even sure it applies to whatever exists here.”

  “Did your scientists find anything?” Dave asked his tone still that of a man who didn’t quite believe what was happening.

  “No, not in the clearing anyway,” Kimmel said with a sigh. “They took their samples and used their fancy sensors to try and prove what everyone was feeling and experiencing all without success. I almost felt sorry for them. They didn’t understand why they couldn’t find proof of what it was.”

  “Surely they must have found something?”

  “Oh, they found something alright.”

  “Like what?”

  “Bones. Bones of people. Bones of children. Bones of animals. That was bad enough, but it was even worse when my team started to be affected. We had five hangings, two suicides by shooting and four people who just... Disappeared. They went off into the woods and never came back. Then there was the house.”

  “You mean the hotel?” Dave corrected.

  “No, I meant the house,” Kimmel replied, not even attempting to hide his irritation. “As you will know from your research, it’s still there in the core of the hotel. The entire structure was built around it, no doubt as some kind of tourist hotspot to lure in people willing to pay to see it. Anyway, a couple of days after Fisher came in and decided to close the town down, they found something in the house.”

  His audience were enthralled now, and he considered not saying any more, especially so close to the subject matter. He glanced at Dave, who was staring right back at him. Still smug, still arrogant. Kimmel decided it was best to tell it all as he knew it, just to put a hold on any stupid ideas they might have.

  “He wouldn’t tell me at first. Fisher clammed up, but he didn’t account for the loyalty of my men. They made sure I was kept in the loop. They found a cellar down there, a sub basement. It wasn’t on the original plans and looked like it hadn’t been used for years. I don’t know the exact details, but from what I was told, there’s a whole network of tunnels down there.”

  “What did they find down there?” Dani asked, glancing at Lucy.

  Kimmel shrugged. “I genuinely don’t know. All communication stopped, and the place was sealed off as you can see for yourselves by the steel grilles behind us. Whatever it was, this site was emptied within ten hours, the town within twenty. I often wonder about what they might have found in there, although I’ll be the first to admit, I’m not brave enough to go and see for myself. Maybe one day I’ll-”

 
He paused, and by the looks on the faces of the others, he could tell they could hear it too.

  “What is that?" Dave said his voice barely louder than a whisper. The arrogance was gone. Kimmel thought that maybe, just maybe he was starting to understand.

  In the distance, almost lost in the breeze, they could hear crying, an agonised wailing from somewhere out in the forest.

  "That’s Kelsie," Dani said her voice breaking.

  Nobody felt willing or able enough to respond. Instead, they listened and tried to deny what they were hearing, all except Kimmel. He was stony faced and staring into the flames. The crying in the woods was closer now, and they could make out their friend's voice as she begged for help.

  "We have to do something,” Dave said as he started to get to his feet.

  “Sit down," Kimmel grunted without averting his gaze.

  "But our friend is out there."

  "It’s not what you think. Nothing here is. It’s only what they want you to believe."

  "They? This is crazy. She needs our help." Dave snapped.

  "Listen, I've experienced this before. Trust me when I tell you that you need to stay here."

  "But-"

  “Don’t you understand? They want you to go out there. They want you to go and look for her.”

  “She needs us. You can’t expect us just to stay here.” Dani said, looking to the others for support. But Dave and Lucy were doing everything they could to avoid making eye contact with her. Instead, they watched Kimmel, who continued to stare into the flames.

  “Please, Mr. Kimmel….” Dani whimpered.

  “I’m sorry. This is for the best. Just….try to ignore it and remember it’s not what it seems. It’s probably not even her.” Kimmel said.

  “Probably? Probably is easy for you to say when it’s a complete stranger to you. It’s our friend. She’s out there alone somewhere.”

  “Trust me, I know what you’re going through. I lost friends here too.”

  “What do you mean, lost? Are you saying she’s dead?”

  “No. What I’m telling you is that the best thing we can do right now is wait here until morning. To go out there now would be…”

  He was going to say suicide, then thought better of it. “Well, it would be a bad idea.”

  “So you want to stay here and do nothing” Lucy snapped, now outright glaring at her friends who were looking anywhere but at her.

  “Yes. That’s what I propose. Besides, it should stop soon. Once they realise we won’t give in.”

  Kimmel, however, was wrong. Far from fade, the cries and moans increased in intensity and volume, barraging them from all sides. The disembodied voice of their friend first begged for help, then when they didn’t move from the safety of the fire, shouted abuse, foul tirades which were as vile as they were inventive. The group huddled around the fire, backs to the hotel, staring out into the pitch dark, glimpsing half seen shadows moving where none should move. Hearing footsteps on gravel even though there was nobody there to make them. Stones were thrown at them, wind prodded and probed them with sinister eagerness. Dani and Lucy huddled together, their cries masked by the howling winds. Even Dave, the most sceptical, stubborn of the three was unable to comprehend what was happening, and sat by the fire, back rigid, teeth clenched, lips moving wordlessly as he suffered from the knowledge that although most things could be explained rationally, others were impossible to understand. Only Kimmel seemed unafraid and continued to stare into the flames of the fire, smoking cigarette after cigarette. He heard the voices in his head of course. They spoke to him like they always used to. Voices of the dead. His sister who was killed in a car crash back in the summer of eighty six. His mother who had been in her grave for almost twenty years. His friend, Joe Davies, who had been killed by an IED in Baghdad years earlier. All of them vying to advise him, their poisonous words clinging to his brain like intertwined, overgrown thorns. He was able to resist them, however, it didn't make the words any less disturbing. They alternated between soothing, friendly tones and sneering, barked commands and insults. Worse still were the images, fragmented pictures placed inside his head by his tormentors.

  Plunging Dave’s head into the flames of the fire, holding him there as he kicked, thrashed and tried to scream through melting lips.

  Dismembering Dani. Hacking her body into a pulpy mess. Eating her flesh. The chew of sinew. The copper taste of blood.

  Tearing Lucy’s stomach open, guts steaming in the cold night air.

  Kimmel's stomach grumbled, and he shifted his eyes towards the girls. Towards Dave. He knew it was wrong, he knew this was something he had to fight, yet resistance wasn't easy. Not like it used to be. They had grown strong.

  Too strong.

  For the first time in a long time, fear danced in Kimmel’s belly.

  He knew how it would go. The way it always went. He recalled the names of the men he had lost under his command. Men with wives, girlfriends and families who had survived some of the most brutal and violent war zones on the planet to lose their lives in a shithole of a town. He recited their names in his head as he continued to wrestle with those mental demons.

  Reynolds.

  Shaw.

  Landro.

  Levas.

  Blanchard.

  Drench.

  Cook.

  Williams.

  Brook.

  Frederick.

  With each name, the black thing in his brain showed him how each had died. How each had been tortured, how in the end, they had begged for death. Kimmel let out a low groan, one which went unheard by the others who were more concerned with coping with their own terrors.

  Reynolds. Skewered on a spike he’d carved from a branch in the night.

  Shaw. Hanging from a tree, face bloated and covered with flies.

  Landro. In the clearing. Disembowelled, a mouthful of entrails between his teeth.

  Levas. Floating in the river. Fish feasting on his bulging eyes.

  Blanchard. Bullet hole in his head, brains splashed all over the forest.

  Drench. Disappeared without a trace. Sounds of screaming, screaming, screaming.

  Cook. Throat slit with hunting knife, gargled bloody laughter.

  Williams. Slit wrists and rock in hand, standing over Brook’s body.

  Brook. Head a pulpy mass without shape.

  Frederick. Gone like Drench. Into the woods never to return.

  Kimmel was accustomed to winning these mental battles, especially here away from the clearing. He should have known.

  Strong now.

  Very strong.

  He knew he had to do something, make a last ditch effort to regain control of his body. He stared into the fire, the red embers glowing, inviting. Inviting him to thrust Dave’s fat, disbelieving face into the flames, to savour the hiss of sizzling flesh. In a last effort before his will was broken, Kimmel thrust his own hand into the flame. It was only for a split second, but the agony was enough to focus his mind and banish those oozing forces which were trying so hard to manipulate him. He pulled his hand free, a squealing moan whistling between gritted teeth. The others paid no attention, unaware of how close they had come to death from one they thought they could trust. Back in control of his senses, Kimmel looked at his hand, the skin already blistering, the throbbing, stinging pain agonising. He was fine with it, though because it meant he had survived their advances. Tucking his hand under his jacket, he settled down to wait out the night. After what felt like an eternity huddled there in the darkness, the sky started to lighten, the greyish tinge of morning light on the horizon bringing Kimmel hope that perhaps they might survive. Physically, anyway. He suspected the mental toll on all of them might last significantly longer.

  The sounds abated just before full dawn came, screams and breeze dying as one as if turned off by a switch. With it went the atmosphere, the heavy, nauseating feeling of pure terror. When it was done, the four people left behind huddled around the red and white glowing embers of thei
r fire were changed, perhaps forever. Not in the physical sense, but mentally. Their eyes were wide, glassy with disbelief. Or perhaps it was relief of surviving what was a terrible ordeal. It seemed as if the fading of those dark forces brought back the courage to interact, and amid the low sobs of Dani and Lucy, Dave turned towards Kimmel, a dazed expression on his pale face.

  “I don’t think we should wait for your friend. I think we ought to leave right now.” Dave said, voice shaking despite his best efforts to keep calm.

  Kimmel expected Lucy and Dani to argue, and yet neither said anything. They stared at Kimmel, waiting to be told what to do. Their will had been broken by what had transpired in the night, and as expected, their own self preservation instincts had overcome the desire to find their friend.

  “Alright,” Kimmel said, wincing as he caught his burned hand on his pants leg. “Let’s pack up and get the hell out of here. Are you okay to drive?”

  Dave shook his head. “I don’t think so. I…don’t feel right.”

  “It’s this place. It wears you down.” Kimmel replied. “We’ll take my car, I’ll have yours picked up later if that’s okay?”

  “It is. We don’t mind.” Dave said, lowering his eyes, too embarrassed to admit that they were ditching their friend.

  Again, Kimmel looked to the girls, waiting for some kind of argument. When none came, he struggled to his feet, trying to walk off the pins and needles which stabbed at his soles. “Okay. Thirty minutes then we move.”

  II

  He watched them, from his place in the trees, the cold in his bones no worse than the black pit of emptiness which filled him. The cold morning air was crisp and fresh, and he longed for when it would be filled with the stink of death or when blood would feed the thirsty earth. Henry marshal cocked his head, listening to the voices only he could hear, and turned his attention back to the people camping out in front of the hotel. He had been there for most of the night. In the trees. In the shadows. Waiting. Watching. As each hour passed, the rage inside him built. Out here, the whispers which for so long had been hard to hear were sharp and clear, the things they said bringing him comfort, assuring him about the task at hand now that the boy had been lost. He asked them how he could stop them from leaving, and they responded by telling him that they would ensure their escape was halted. As the first murky light bled into the day, Henry shrank back into the forest, prepared to do whatever it took to ensure that this time, there was no failure in what had been asked of him. First, though, there were things to do.