DEAD AIR, short story by Orlando SC/Hell’s Reject

Okay guys, thought you were getting tired of my old shit so i am giving yo something new;  I created a short story once again in based on true story format, like you would see on Reddit’s NoSleep page. 

Hope you enjoy please comment and give me your critique, you don’t even gotta like it; I appreciate it if you do 🙂  Without further ado i give you Dead Air.

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I have been a radio talk show host in my hometown since I was 21. I am twenty-five now and my late night talk show has been going on since then. People sometimes think what I do is unethical or that it ruins lives; let me put this into perspective so that you can understand what I do. My name is Jason; on my show I am called “The Heartbreak Kid” sounds stupid right? But wait here’s the worse part.

People call me and ask me to help them with relationships if I can. I have different segments for different things each weekday. Every Friday (which is called Sneaky Friday) people call me to try and expose their boyfriend or girlfriend of cheating on them. Now you can imagine the bad things people say about me and all the death threats and angry letters I get. I have seen it all and I have learned to just fall back on my rules that I developed for myself for when this happens: Number One: Don’t expose personal info on the radio, not even my real name. Number Two: Keep your lawyer on speed dial, because if someone wants to sue me I have a lawyer to back me up on my methods and to remind these ass hats that what I do is completely legal (such as getting consent for certain things and making sure it’s on air, even if I tricked them into giving me consent). And Number Three: Don’t get out of the GODDAMN broadcasting van!

I am going to tell you guys of the night that I broke rule number three and what “good” that did me.  Now let me tell you how I broadcast from a van: I basically prefer traveling while working and I prefer working alone on everything. The van I am in is equipped to the fucking rims with technology that allows me to broadcast to my station in my home town (both of which I am leaving out of this story and you’re going to find out why).

So its Friday I am driving to the gas station to fill up Betsy (that’s what I call my van) and to get some grub for the night along with some coffee since my show comes on and stays on from 10 pm to 3 pm.  I know you’re thinking who the fuck can I catch cheating at that ungodly hour? Well, you’d be surprised. I arrive at the station next to a pump, fill up my tank, and go ahead and park closer to the store to get some food and allow the next guy to get gas from the pump.

I go in get my coffee get my food and get out. Once I am out the door I see some guy in the space next to my van trying to open the side doors and he can’t get em opened. The side door was locked and this asshole’s skull is so thick that he keeps thinking he can open up Betsy without a key. I place my coffee and food on the sidewalk and confront his stupid ass.  “Hey!” I yell at him and he looks up at me with tears rolling down his eyes; he looked like he hadn’t slept, showered, or shaved in days. He instantly let’s go of the door handle and raises his hands in surrender. “I-I-I need it man! I need my coke bro!” he yells at me and I am just furious at this ass hat for thinking that his drugs were in my fucking van. I pull out my phone and hold it out with 911 on speed dial. “Get out of here crack head, or I am calling the cops!” his breathing becomes heavy and panicked as he runs the other direction and into an alley way where he disappeared. I put my phone away, sigh in relief and get my shit and go to my next destination.

Now when I travel I still remain in my hometown but I try and find public areas, such as cheap motels or a Walmart parking lot or something. That way if someone, (like that cokehead from earlier) tries to break in there’s an eyewitness or at last a few streetlamps with traffic cams (even if there are security cameras already installed on the van). It’s 9:50 so I have ten minutes before I broadcast. Unfortunately, as I drive around there is little to no one around and the stores and shit were closing early. I thought: “What the hell, most of these places are open until midnight?” but I didn’t question it. I parked by in a Walmart lot in hopes of avoiding the drunkards and drug addicts in cheap motels.

Now I know what you’re thinking: “Jason, why not just do the show at your local station than your van, it is much safer, isn’t it?” truth is no, it’s not. The door is about as secure as a cardboard box with nothing but a deadbolt and one security camera to keep the place on lockdown. The equipment has exposed wires and the mics are ancient as dinosaur bones. It seems our most popular form of broadcasting is in a van since the van is completely up to us to upgrade and secure in our own way. I, being a tech geek, manage better in a van with my own security system.

I start the show by turning on the satellites, queue the music, turn on the mic and start the show:

“Good evening everybody, this is the Heartbreak Kid coming to you from ___ in ___! Now you know what day it is, It’s sneaky Friday where we catch your beloved being sneaky. Now around this time of night everyone thinks I can’t catch anybody breaking hearts but they are wrong! I have my ways… now let’s open up the calls and see who we have on the air tonight! Remember if you miss tonight’s show you can always listen to us on our podcast that takes last night’s show and sends it directly to your device. Let’s begin!”

I flip the calls on in the vans phone system and that’s where the strange shit starts happening. No one and I mean NO ONE is calling. Not even a wrong number call or something. I know that the show doesn’t have a large following but it is never this slow. I halt the calls and take a sip of my coffee as I went back on the air. “Well that is weird. It looks like no one is curious yet. Alright well we will wait for a couple of calls, in the meantime here is “Hello by Adele here on ___ fm.” I play the track and take of my headset and check my phone while the song plays. I usually take this time to check on the shows Twitter and Facebook then my own and I check for any missed calls or texts. Nope nothing, in fact I can’t even get a fucking signal on my phone! I must be outside the coverage zone. I get back in the drivers eat, turn the car on and move closer to the store since the signal seems to grew stronger whenever I get near a building, don’t ask me how I just experienced this more often than not.

I turn the car off once I am in a decent spot in the empty lot and get back to the back of the van which was illuminated by the screens and flashing lights of the equipment. The song ends and I get back on air. “Okay that was Hello by Adele; nice song, lovely artist. Now hopefully the calls have built up since then so let’s check in shall we?” I turn the phones back on and there is a call open as soon as I turn the phone. “Hello caller number one, you are on air with the Heartbreak Kid on__ fm. What’s going on?”

“Hello, my name is Jim.” He greets and he sounds slow and rather nervous.

“Hi Jim, nice to meet you! How are you?”

“I am fine, how are you?” he asks.

“I am good just running the show as usual. Why don’t you tell us what’s been eating you Jim?” I ask him and then there is nothing until I hear sobbing.

“She left m-me.” I hear crying and I take the initiative and try to calm him down. “Hey man, it’s okay. Look man there are plenty of fish in the sea my friend. Let me help you. DO you think she was cheating on you?” I ask him gently and he sniffles then he begins.

“N-no, she um she called you and caught me cheating.” I pause and I am absolutely shocked by his response. I usually get email complaints and lawsuits thrown at me by people who fall victim to my show but I never get the actual victims calling the show. I felt awkward as hell and wanted to try and be as sensitive as I can.

“Look Jim, I am sorry. This is my job after all and I only do this sort of thing to help people- “before I continue he interrupts. “BY RUINING THEIR (Bleep) LIVES!?” I heard him yell while the system detects the swear and bleeps him and for some reason I thought I could hear his voice outside the van. A chill ran down my neck and I reply. “Listen my friend there is no reason to swear- “he interrupts again. “Fine! But you are not my friend! You screwed me over my wife left me because you tricked me into sending flowers to my cousin; but does she believe me when I said that? NO! Now my marriage is broken; I had to file for divorce because of you! Because of you my kids hate me!” I start to feel for this guy, I had no idea that I caused this guy’s wife to think he was cheating, even if his story was true, I still am just doing my job so I try to calm him down again.  If he interrupts me again I can legally let the call, go.

“Look, Jim. I am sorry I truly am. I had no idea that this was going on, Trust me when I say that but I am legally allowed to this, if you want to discuss this in a legal matter you can call my stations number if you would like-“he interrupts me once more only saying something even more eerie than I have ever heard in all my years of radio. “Do you want to meet the devil tonight Jason?” as soon as I heard my name I hung up and talked back to the show once more feeling even more freaked out than before.

“Okay. Um let’s continue to get a other callers shall we?” I get back to the phone still shaken from that call and still wondering how the fuck this guy knew my name. I look at the window in front of the van and in the back windows and see no cars, no people, nothing but street lamps and the vacant spots they illuminated. It was 10:30 and I continue the calls. “Okay caller number one, what do you have for us today?” I say that because I was going to edit out the first call for the podcast. “Still here Jason. Honestly, did you think you could just hang up on me and I would be gone like that?” I sigh and gulp my dread and talk once again only this time I drop the nice guy act and turn off the bleeping mechanism. “Look Jim, enough of your games. Stop calling me!” he tsks and continues. “I wouldn’t hang up if I were you.” He seemed so confident, so sincere, as if he had something up his sleeve but I paid no attention. “Goodbye Jim.” Just as I hang up I hear him yell: “ NO!” I get back to the show. “Okay, still trying to get calls, just lay back as I play a little Sorry by Justin Bieber.” I say and I put on the track and check my phone; shit, still no signal. I check outside all windows and nothing. MY heart is beating fast with fear though I was completely safe in my van. I check my security cameras on another monitor and there was no motion detection or any kind of strange things happening in my blind spots at all.  I calm down and as soon as the song is over I get back on only to play another song out of fear of Jim calling again. “Okay, the calls are slow but luckily this is more than a talk show here’s Apologize by One Republic!” I put the track on and admire my sense of irony on my choice of the track, it’s almost like I want to piss off Jim.

I continue to monitor the cameras instead of the windows and I see movement in the store in front of me through the side cam. It was quick but definitely human since the shadow was of regular height and build as I saw it dashed across the locked doors of the Walmart to the other side of the entrance. No features could be made out, now I was starting to panic and thought: “Holy shit, I am broadcasting while a Walmart is being robbed!” or so I thought.

I pull out my phone and try to dial 911 but there was still no signal. I know basic horror movie cliché right? Lonesome parking lot, dark shadow, no cell service; what the fuck is this Camp Lakewood in Friday the 13^th?

I get back to the setup having realized that the song ended and my voice is shaking unsure of what to do, in all my years of radio I never had this happened to me before. “Okay guys, um, let’s see if we have anymore callers, huh?”

I didn’t know what else to do so I turn the phones on, so far its just dead air then the phone picks up the next caller. A scary thought passes my brain: What if no one is listening but Jim? And to make matters worse guess who was on the other line?

“Hello?” I greet the caller and I hear Jim speak angrily once more.

“If you fucking hang up on me again I will do a little more than just cutting your fuel line ass hole!” My heart sank as I turned to the security monitors and quickly pan all my cameras in all directions and look to see if I had any play back footage; guys there was nothing, I took my head set off and try to test his theory, you know, call his bluff. I turn the keys in the ignition and the van sputters and no matter what it would not start. “Fuck!” I swear at the steering wheel and I hope back to the setup and put on my headset and his first opening words are: “Believe me yet?” I am hyperventilating and I try my best to remain calm. “What do you want?” I ask him.

“Simple, I want you to feel responsible for ruining my life, I want you to feel my pain! Jason, I know so much about you. Ever since my wife left I looked you up, even hacked your employers’ records. Now let’s skip being cryptic, I want you to get out of the van and face me.” He says and I think I am sweating. “No way asshole, do I sound like an idiot to you?” I ask mockingly and he laughs.

“NO but you most certainly don’t sound like a murderer.” I was confused, I didn’t know what he was talking about. I look at my security monitors and still see nothing. On all four sides of my van. “What do you mean?” I ask him and it takes a while to respond. Keep your headset on and look at the store entrance.” I sigh and hesitantly I unplug the charger wire for my headset and allow the wireless part to take over as I jump into the front seat.

The outside started to look really eerie and disturbingly vacant. I stare at the entrance until I see a woman who was gagged and tied up thrown on to the part of the entrance that was illuminated. The woman was unconscious and I saw no one else but the woman. From here it looked like she was beaten and the side of her face was cut up as well leaving her face blood soaked. “Is she dead?” I asked and he responded. “No but I can make her that way if you want me to.”

“No, please!”

“Then get out of the fucking van!” I didn’t know what to do, I am battling a voice who can murder that poor woman whenever he felt like it and It was up to me to do what this guy wants in order to save this girl. A part of me was thinking:

No it’s not worth it, save yourself stay in the van!

Then another part said:

But can you live with this girl’s murder on your conscious?

Obviously I was stupid enough to choose the latter; I didn’t know this girl but I can’t handle being responsible for her death. I looked at my watch and I guess time flies when you are being stalked because it was midnight. I shake my head at my situation. “Fuck, fine I’m coming out!” I reply to him.

“About fucking time…” I unlock my car doors, get out of the van, and shut the door. The cool air hits me drying the sweat off my forehead and I could hear the sound of crickets chirping in the distance. “Now that I have your attention, walk over here, slowly!” he yells and I do as I am told and begin to walk.

“Keep steady, don’t want me to spray her brains all over the door now do you?” I gulp and shake my head assuming he can see me. Jesus who was this monster? I then realize that I am still broadcasting and recording through the headset. Maybe I can get him talking, try to reveal his real name maybe.

“So Jim, what was your wife’s name?” I ask him casually.

“What does that say about you that you don’t even know the names of your victims?” he asks condescendingly.

“You say that like I’m the one holding the girl hostage.” I say to the headset while staring at the woman and her face is clearer now as well as her clothes, she is in a Walmart vest with a name tag maybe I can make out the name while I talk to him for the recording.

“You technically are and this juts tells me how much of an ignorant asshole you are, thinking you can get away with murder, thinking you can ruin people’s lives and go on the radio and call it entertainment. You make me sick Jason.” I keep getting closer and I can make out her name.

“Kathy?” I say aloud looking at the tag. “Yup, that’s right asshole, Kathy ___, the girl that called you, “The Heartbreak Kid” to accuse her husband of cheating. You top 40’s sellout fuck!” I got a name! But now what? I reach the glass door and see that it wasn’t just her face that was covered in blood, it was her back her chest; I could even see stab wounds.

I breathe hard and shallow breaths, I am scared and shocked. Just so many emotions come to mind and I can only say so little. “She was already dead.” I say shuddering as a tear rolls down my cheek. “No shit Sherlock and you’re next.”

At those words I look up and see the reflection of a man in a ski mask pointing a gun at me. I turn quickly raising my hands in surrender until flashes of red and blue appear across the lot and shots are fired at this man. Thank God! A bullet grazed his arm and he fires a shot at the glass door behind me. He notices he is too late to kill me and sprints across the lot to the left and through some bushes.  The cop car pulls up next to the entrance where I was and two police men get out, one with a gun and aimed at those bushes the man left through and the other one coming up to me asking me questions. After the first cop realized the man had escaped through the bushes and into the backwoods he calls for backup on his radio.

The cops informed me of what was going on and I had never felt so stupid in my entire life until today. Jim was a convicted felon who had murdered a liquor store clerk the same night his wife left him. He escaped from prison and obsessively wrote about me in angry letters he would give his councilor in jail so that gave them the hint as to where he would be. His wife worked at this Walmart and by some crazy stupid chance I had parked myself in the same place he had murdered his wife. Of course he took advantage of this and called my show and made my night hell.

I quickly learned that the douche bag that tried to get in my car earlier was Jim ___. I was just absolutely dumbfounded when the police showed me his picture.

I gave the cops the recording of the show tonight and the security footage from my cameras as well. I even kept copies to go over how the hell he broke my fuel line and how managed to do all this to his wife without me knowing where he was at all times. Turns out I parked underneath a damn manhole so this fucker accessed my fuel line through the damn sewers.

The next day I get the van from the auto shop and drive home, once I am home I check to see if all my equipment was present and not sabotaged. Luckily everything was fine. IN my van I turn to face the front and look at the cup holder where I had left my coffee cup which was now covered in blood.

My hair on my neck stands and fear shakes my core. What the fuck did this asshole do to my cup? I see that on the side there is something written in sharpie marker:

Enjoy, Jason!

I am shaking as I slowly take off the lid and a pungent smell rises from the cup and what I saw next almost destroyed me: guys, it was a human heart cut in half.

And fuck no I am not giving a goddamn picture. That is the LAST TIME I am ever getting the fuck out of this van; the police have that heart and since then I have heightened my security with a camera under my van as well. Guys if you ever find yourself in this situation, stay safe and do not second guess your instinct, it just might save you from wackos like Jim.

END

The Burnt Chronicles/Chapter 4: (Stan) The Blood-Stained Note.

Hope you guys are having fun with this series, here’s chapter 4 🙂

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CHAPTER 4 (STAN McCalister) the Blood-Stained Note

 

It has been a month since the Burnt Iron Killer died, life was easier to handle now, recently me and my son Ryan, have grown closer as a family. We have been going to see movies and even the occasional baseball game at the Diamond Backs stadium. To be honest, I haven’t been the best father in the world; I have always deprived Ryan of a father figure. Every time my wife was mentioned, I would throw a fit. Or the beer that was in my hand. But that was another time. That’s the past, today was a new day, and my day off.

I woke up one morning in my bedroom, and for the first time I felt full of energy. Like everything was going to be ok again. I open my eyes and look outside my window to the left of my bed. My thoughts were practically void of the Burnt Iron Killer.

It was bright and clear outside, sunlight poured from the window to my right, revealing the atmosphere of the room. The room was painted a light blue; it has always been my wife’s favorite color. This was originally our room, but now I was its only occupant. There were two tan-colored, wooden dressers pushed against each other to the wall at my right. My wife’s cloths were still in there; four Family pictures hung on the wall to my left. However some of them hurt me to even look at them.

The one that caught my eye the most was a picture of Laura and me at the park. I giving her a piggy back ride and Ryan took the picture for us. We were so happy that day; somehow, I forgot how that happiness felt. I forgot about the innocent side of the world, and how things weren’t always so bad. I never thought that happiness could come back to me, after all this time. I sit up then look at that picture. “I’m sorry Laura.” I whispered, my eyes water up as I stare down at my ring on my fourth finger of my left hand. I touched it and looked at the now faded inscription, permanently engraved into it:

‘Forever and always’, it had said. I did miss my wife. God I honestly was a wreck without her, still am. But I promised myself that I would become Ryan’s dad again. I wasn’t going to push him out of my life any more. I had to be there for him and for Laura.

Her death should not mean Ryan’s abandonment. Once more I look to Laura’s picture now thinking to myself only two words: Forever and always

*

I quickly got dressed and walked out my bedroom. I was dressed casually, and not in my usual work tie and suspenders. As I walk down the hall to the stairs, I notice Ryan’s door was wide open. I hear the clanging of cereal hitting the glass of a bowl only to realize he got up early; it’s only Saturday. I continue to walk down stairs and proceed to the kitchen. As I walk through I see Ryan all dressed up, in a red hoodie and jeans. It was the first time I have seen him wear something other than black. “Good morning, dad!” He greets me with a smile. I liked seeing my son smile; it made me smile as well. “Good Morning.” I greet back. I then grab a bowl from the cupboards at the other end of the kitchen and take some milk from the fridge and reached into the cupboard to get the box of Cocoa Puffs.

I sit down at the table Ryan was sitting at, and take a seat across from him. I take a bite of my cereal with my spoon and Ryan continues to eat his cereal. The silence that followed lasted for a good 3 minutes until I decided to speak up.

“I’ve been thinking, Ryan” I tell him. He suddenly looks up at me and gulps down the Cocoa Puffs in his mouth. “What, Dad?” He responds now curious in what I have to say. I pause, and then speak again. “What were you doing at the station that night?” in almost an instant, Ryan’s face grew red. His eyes were slightly wide and his expression was suspicious.

“Um, why?” He stalls. “Because… I don’t think you could have predicted a bomb setting off at the station.” I suggest; Ryan sighs then looks down at his cereal, then he looks back up at me and was about ready to confess. I knew he couldn’t have held it in for this long. “I was… going to steal a file on Aunt Sharon and my cousins murder case.”

How did he think of this idea? Honestly, it’s stupid to even think about stealing from the police. The idea backfires on itself.

“I know.” I respond, His eyes widen again and his eyebrows slant in-ward, as if he was confused. “How did you know?“ He asks. “Son, I have been thinking the same thing you were thinking of for the past 2 years.” I explain. “Every day, I thought: Where was my brother? Did he run away? Was he afraid? Or was he the one who killed Sharon and the kids?” My questions were disturbing to me at the time, and I’m pretty sure Ryan felt the same way I did. “So soon after they died, I started to investigate. And once I first saw those people that B.I.K murdered, I-” Ryan stopped me and finished my sentence. “Thought that B.I.K murdered Aunt Sharon and the kids, and scared Uncle Devin off.” His expression changed and was more interested at my accusation than confused.

“You see Ryan; I have been into my fair share of trouble. Hell If I had been trying to solve a case like this when I was 17, then I probably would have thought I could do this alone. But the fact is we aren’t supposed to do these things alone. We need help from time to time.” I explain. “What are you trying to say dad?” Ryan asks, “I’m saying…” I pause to think then start to speak again, “I’m saying, I need your help Ryan.” I ask for his help. There was no more danger so I might as well ask him to help me find Devin, he was in fact an honors student in forensics, and maybe he could help. I want us to be a family again, and maybe together we can find my brother and help him.

“W-what, you want my help?” He stammers in reply. “Yes, you see; I was too harsh on you, and I’m sorry. But I can trust you and I know that he’s out there somewhere.” I explain. “But dad, where do we start?” I’ll take that as a: ‘Yes dad, I’ll help’. I think about what he asked and I come to a conclusion. “At the downtown station; I transferred all B.I.K-related evidence there.” Ryan makes that confused face again.

“See: I knew you would do this someday so I transferred the evidence into the evidence room of the downtown station.”  I knew what I was doing, not to mention I know my son better than anyone. “Smart.” He compliments. “It takes a detective to outsmart a detective.” I wink and take a spoon full of my cereal. He smiles and chuckles as well, then continues to eat his cereal. “So, Partners?” I bring up the question as I hold out my hand for him to shake it. He looks down at my hand, drops his spoon and firmly shakes my hand. “Partners.”

*

Soon after breakfast we drive into downtown Tucson in my Mazda. We are riding down Broadway and me and Ryan are talking about random things. Ryan chuckles in the passenger seat as I Finished telling a joke. “How come you’re not this funny at home?” He asks. “Well before I wasn’t in a ‘joke-telling-mood'” I responded while laughing.” Yeah, well I’m glad to see you in a good mood, dad.” He says with a smile. The laughter soon dies in the car after he spoke, and all we could hear was the rumbling of the engine. I haven’t talked to him about school lately so I guess I’ll break the silence.

“So how’s school going?” I ask still focused on the road. “School is ok.” He answers. His voice seems calm yet I could sense he was holding something back. I make a left down the main road and continue to speak to him. “Is there anything happening in school lately; Bullies, girls, projects? “; “Uhh No.”

Liar, he was never very good at lying. “C’mon! I know you, Ryan. Mr. Lady Killer!” I say encouragingly, if asking him doesn’t work then flattery will. He chuckled feeling good about himself, “Ok, well…” He pauses “There is this one girl.” He smiles and strokes back some strand of his long hair hanging between his eyes; I smile and look at Ryan then back at the road and check my rear-view mirrors, then I look at the road again and start the conversation on this girl he knows. “Ok then tell me, what’s her name? Is she cute? Does she know you exist?”

The question was supposed to be relatable. At my age I was always shy and had my face in a book. Bullies were the worst back then, they would always tease me for being short, or they would pick me up by the shoulders and throw me against the wall and beat me to a pulp. However I didn’t regret any of that, it toughened me up and made me who I am today.

“Her name’s Delilah; She’s in all my classes, and yes she’s cute. She’s beautiful actually.” He corrects himself, while his speaking he’s staring into nothingness and smiling at the same time. I never really saw him so happy. “She’s been sitting in front of me in every class, including forensics. We never talked before though.” His smile went away at that realization. ”I don’t know, I guess I’m just scared to come up to her and just talk, you know?” I stopped the car in front of a tall five-story tan building. We arrived at the down town station.

I turn to Ryan and he looks back at me. “We’re here.” He says. “Wait Ryan-” I stopped him before he could reach for the car’s door handle.

“Yes Dad?” He replies and looks at me.” When I met your mother, I felt the exact same way you did.”, “Embarrassed and Nervous?” He interrupts. “First let me just say it takes a man to admit that.” I pointed out and gestured at the fact. “And second, you don’t need to be ashamed or embarrassed. You just need to believe in yourself.” He looked at me looking confused. “Look just walk up to her and say: Hey, do you want to go out sometime? “, “But dad you can’t just directly ask someone on a date, it is a little stalker-ish; you have to get to know them better.” He explains. “Alright then ‘love guru’, show me the way, I’m all ears.” I wittingly tell him.

He chuckles and thinks or a second then puts on a straight face. “You first have to friend her on Facebook or something. Then the next day you act all casual and say: ‘Hey I saw you on Facebook. Do you want to hang out or something?’ And then you just play it off from there.”  Isn’t that what I just said? I mean we didn’t have social media in the 80’s but isn’t that technically what I just said? “So don’t do the direct approach yet, but friend her on Facebook first?” I ask sarcastically and smile at him. He gestures his left hand at me to try and make a point, but as he is about to speak, he’s at a loss for words and nothing comes out of his mouth. I think I just stopped his brain for a moment.

I smile and get out of the car to walk toward the building. My Car kind of stood out from all the other cars in the street. Ryan soon after caught up with me as I make toward the door. “We are not done yet.”; “No but I think you are.” I say confidently He groans as I chuckle, and we walk through the stations doors toward a front desk. The building was well-lit, and had plenty of room. The only down side to it was the multiple cops running up and about the station doing whatever business they had. The place looked like New York in rush hour.

The Front desk was made of marble and was very well kept and organized by the man behind the counter. He was wearing a tie and a white dress shirt with slacks.

“Hello sir, what can I do for you?” He asks me, “We would like to look at some evidence that was transferred here and to bring it to a secure location.” I confirm my business; however the man doesn’t seem too convinced.” And you are?” He questions. I quickly pull out my badge and show him my I.D;”Detective Steven McCalister, and this is my son Ryan” I gesture to Ryan at my right.”Ok detective right this way, But Ryan can’t come back to the room with us.” I look to explain to Ryan why he can’t come. “It’s ok I’ll wait here.” Ryan says. “You sure?” I ask. “Yeah it’s cool.”; “okay, be right back don’t move.” I tell him as I continue to the evidence room with the desk clerk and leave Ryan in the waiting room.

He led me down the hall and to a silver elevator surrounded by the silver hallway. We stepped into the elevator and sit in the re till we reach the 5th floor.” This way sir.” he gestures outside the elevator doors as they open. He turns left and I follow him to a gated area of the floor then he takes off a set of keys he had latched to his pants and he opens the gate and lets me in.” There you go sir. Check with the clerk at the desk to the right so that you can pull out whatever evidence you need. I’ll wait here.” He explains. I then leave the lobby with the desk clerk to the evidence room.

 

 

What felt like hours to get that box of evidence only took 20 minutes; why does time seem to slow down at the most dull moments? Whatever, at least I got the files. They were in a small office box that I had placed them in with a bold- lettered, red stamp on the top with the word confidential; I carried the box with me and I took the elevator with that clerk from the front desk.

Apparently, not even a professional detective can be trusted with the very documents he had transferred. When I reach downstairs I see Ryan sitting in a chair in the waiting area while officers just walk across the room, going along with their own business. Ryan looked uneasy, he was slightly slouching and was moving his eyes left and right trying to examine the room. Once he looks at me he gets up and walks toward me as I come to him holding the box of evidence. His movements were rushed and he looked tired.

“Did you get the evidence?” He asks with his voice sounded uneasy. “Yes I did, are you ok?” I respond.” Yeah I’m just thinking.”, “About what?” I ask. “Well…” He pauses and looks down then looks back up again.” What if we didn’t kill him? Or What if he escaped the fire?” I knew he was talking about the killer and I could understand his concern, the unpleasant tone in his voice sounded almost disturbed.” Son, he’s gone ok? We saw him unconscious, and all because of you.” I reply to his question.”I know dad, I just have this feeling, that he’s not dead.”

I look down and prepare a response. But just as I am about to speak, the P.A over the room comes on. “ALL UNITS REPORT TO 9675 EAST RAKER STREET, ALL UNITS PLEASE RESPOND NOW!!” Just like that every cop in the station storms out of the station in a panicking manor.

All the officers drop what they are doing and rush out the entrance to the parking lot and one- by- one they all leave in their squad cars. “What’s going on?” Ryan asks as he looks around at the cops running frantically outside.” I don’t know must be big though.” I reply. “We should follow them.” I look to him and realize maybe he’s right we should see what all the panic is about.

Quickly we rush into the car and I place the box of evidence in the back seat as Ryan rushes into the passenger side of the car, I immediately hop into the driver’s seat and pull out of the parking lot. “Raker Street, do you know where that is?” Ryan suddenly looked intense and worried.” Yeah we used to go by that street back when you were in elementary school.” I reply as I curve left at a green light, I am soon met with a police car on front of me and I proceed to follow them. “How do you remember that far back?” He asks. “You don’t really forget these kinds of things.” I tell him.” Yeah, but even I would forget.”;” I guess I have good memory then.” I reply soon enough we are stopped at the street address.

Swarms of cop cars cover the scene and all that remains visible is a house fire. Police soon get out of their cars to block off the scene. A fire truck soon arrives and pulls up to the curb next to a fire hydrant.” Dad let’s go.” Ryan suggests; I trust him and all but what if what is there is too gruesome for him to see. I guess it’s ok if he can come with me to investigate. “Sure” I replied uneasily.

We soon rush out of the car; soon after I locked the doors we get through the crowd of cars and make it to the crime scene. Ryan somehow got there faster than me; I could see him just standing there crippled in fear and shaking slightly. I finally caught up to him and saw the horror he had seen. “No…” He whispers as if he had saw death himself.

The body count was at a usual four people. All of them decapitated and burned slightly. Their heads were stuck on four shining metal poles. The blaze behind them was roaring with intense heat, engulfing the house in pure hell fire. The first head was one of a small infant, a small innocent child, now mangled and burnt to a crisp. The second and third was of a husband and wife, the eyes were gouged out of their sockets, and blood still dripping from the snapped jaw of the wife. The last head was of a teenager, a boy just about Ryan’s age, his skull was showing as a result of his head being lit on fire. One half of his face was intact as the other half revealed part of his skull.

“Oh my…” I bent over and vomited on the ground. I quickly wiped my mouth while Ryan had just kept looking at the young man’s head still burning endlessly upon that pole. Why didn’t he just die? Why couldn’t he just go away forever? Ryan’s innocence is now destroyed and lost in the fire before us; he sure as hell didn’t need to see this, not today.

“I should have killed him.” he whispers. “I should have fucking killed him…” He turns at me and as I get back up and look into his eyes, they were full of hatred, fear, and pain.” They’re dead because of me!” he gestures at the scene before us, I just stood and look at him, and I can’t help but thinking: was I really the blame for this? Should I have let Ryan kill him while he had the chance? “Now son-” I start just as I’m interrupted by Ryan.

“No dad, it’s my fault and we are going to fix it!” He exclaims. Parts of the house collapse in as fire fighters are hosing down the building. “You and me dad, we are going to track him down, and then…” He pauses and looks and the still crackling flames. His face grows red with anger and sweat pours from his forehead. “… We will kill him.” He tells me slowly as he turns around and walks to the car; but I’m afraid I can’t let him do this. That boy’s impaled head had proven to me that I can’t risk Ryan’s life to find this bastard, it’s too dangerous. I could never live with myself if Ryan would suffer the same fate.” No Ryan, we can’t. I’m sorry “He halts in his tracks and looks to me furiously as I apologize.”I knew it!” He sarcastically chuckles and his expression turns dark once more.

“I knew this whole, ‘I trust you’ shit wasn’t going to last! Well thank you, dad, for the false hope!” He frowns at me and looks at the fire. “Son it’s too dangerous, that boy right there could be you!” I exclaim. “Maybe so, but I’m not going to sit back and watch this madman kill like this!” He shouts and storms off into the car behind the crowd of cop cars. I sigh heavily and slowly walk back to the car.

As I pulled into the driveway, I can’t help but think that Ryan may be right. I mean Ryan had the chance; the pole was in his hand. He literally had the upper hand. And I had to let my morality get in the way. I don’t know why but something in the back of my mind keeps telling me I was right to stop Ryan from killing this man. Either way, Ryan wants revenge or at least he wanted to avenge for these people that this freak had murdered, and I had denied him of that.  I pull in next to my son’s car at the driveway and proceed out of the car. I retrieve the evidence box in the back seat. Afterwards, I head for the front door of the house when Ryan gets out of the car and slams the door behind him. He walks frustratingly to the door at a much faster pace than me. I look up at him then look down as I sigh in frustration. Then I look at the evidence box, there was a note on top of the box taped onto it. Was this there before? I stare at it with caution, I wanted to ask Ryan if he saw this note here before, but he was in the front seat with me and the box was in the back; isolated behind Ryan’s seat.

The handwriting was sloppy and the note was stained with spots of red. I wasn’t sure what the red stains were but I had a pretty good idea as to who it’s from. Why is he doing this? What can he possibly want from me?

I then walk inside my house and place the box on the coffee table and toss my keys on the sofa across from the table. I sit down on the sofa and rest my head on the pleather couch. As I lay my head, I hear Ryan stomping his way down stairs, I then realize he can’t see this, not on top of the box, if he sees this note he will be even angrier with me for even having a connection with the killer. I quickly take the note, fold it in half and put it inside my jacket pocket.

 

“Ok let’s see the evidence.” Ryan demanded from behind me as he plops next to me and takes the lid off the evidence box and started slowly picking out items of evidence in plastic bags which are labeled and sealed. He had the decency to handle them with latex gloves on. After He pulled out the first couple items he pulled out a small plastic sheet in his pocket and lays it flat on the table and slowly pulls the small shreds out the box and lays them down upon the plastic covering.

“Excuse me?” I ask as I look at every move he makes. He stares down and looks to his right, at me. “We need to find this guy and if any of this stuff can help us then I’m not wasting another second. We will find him.” He explains. His tone was dark and sincere. “I thought I told you we are not doing this anymore, alright? Even if B.I.K’s alive and active doesn’t mean we can go hunting for him!” I demand. “Look dad… If we find him we find your Brother.” He tells me trying to reach some angle of persuasion.                                        “What are you implying?” I ask as anger fills up in my voice. “I’m saying maybe B.I.K knows about your brother. Maybe, just maybe, he killed him and no one knows what happened to him because he was dead before they even so much as heard a word from him.” He gestures as if to talk with his hands and then pauses to hear my reply, which I did not give. He scoffs and shakes his head and returns to examining the evidence. “Whatever Dad, I’ll just do this on my own.” I didn’t so much as spoke a word to him. He crossed the biggest line of all and I was so angry that speaking to him will just result to more yelling, I sigh and get up from the couch. Ryan moves over to occupy the space I used to sit in on the couch, and completely ignores my anger and focuses on the evidence. I swear sometimes this kid gets on my nerves.

I then walk to the fridge, grab a beer, and walk up stairs to my room. I plop onto my bed in my room and then I slowly sit up and pull out the blood stained note with my left hand as I held the beer in my right. I leaned at the edge of the right side of my bed and I take a sip of the beer and started to read the note from my ‘secret admirer’. I started to read: “DEAR DETECTIVE…” it read,

“I HAVE BEEN WATCHING YOU AND YOUR SON…” I suddenly had a chill down my spine.

”YOU WILL NOW CEASE ANY AND ALL ACTIVITY, RELATED TO CAPTURING AND OR KILLING ME; THAT OF WHICH I FIND TO BE IMPOSSIBLE. BUT IF YOU DO NOT COME TO TERMS WITH WHAT I DEMANDED, I WILL KILL YOU AND THAT STUPID HALF WITTED SON OF YOURS.”. A flash of anger filled my eyes as I read on,

“NOT ONLY WILL I KILL YOU TWO, BUT I SHALL MAKE EXAMPLES OF YOU. I WONT JUST IMPALE YOUR HEADS AND BURN THE BODIES, I WILL BATHE IN YOU AND YOUR SON’S BLOOD.’

With every word, my stomach grew weaker and every sip of beer made me more intoxicated and unmanageable. I was beginning to mumble to myself. I read on.

“YOU WILL REGRET THE DAY YOU SPARED ME AT THE STATION! YOU WILL REGRET EVER KNOWING WHO I AM, SO TO SPARE YOU THE PAIN OF ALL I HAVE JUST EXPLAINED, QUIT WHILE YOU’RE AHEAD! SIGNED BIK. P.S. IT’S BEST WE KEEP THIS NOTE AWAY FROM MY NEPHEW; SEE YOU SOON BROTHER…”

Oh My God…

The Devil’s Trail: Chapters 5-6 FINAL

Chapter 5

“We need to get the fuck out of here.” Dan mumbles under his breath as he grabs his back pack lying on the ground next to the destroyed tent. Tim was still standing there with the tape recorder in his hands. Dan is still mumbling and frantically packing what he could find.
Few minutes pass and Dan was already packed- he wasn’t going to stay any longer he was out of here and nothing would hold him back. The darkness of the forest alone had seemed to try and snuff out the flashlights as Tim stared at that recording. He then had the weirdest need to turn the camera back on and update the people who would watch this in the future, if he did make it out alive. Hell even then he felt if he can’t get out alive at least he can warn those who will eventually find this tape and save hundreds of others knowing he might be condemned to suffer the same fate as those who traveled on devil’s trail before him.
He aims his flashlight at the camera which was surprisingly still on the tri-pod. He grabbed the camera on its tri-pod and stood it up in front of him and a couple of thick trees in the back ground. He swallows his fear and tries to keep a straight face in front of the camera and turns it on and presses record button.
He looks into the camera and speaks.
“Hello, I am Timothy Wilson, I hiked up here to Devil’s trail with my brother Daniel Wilson and we have been here for only one night so far.” He looked into the camera and realized that he had a camera light on top of it. He reaches for the top light and turns it on. The shining light nearly blinds him until his vision adjusts, then he continues.
“We received an email from an unknown email address telling us of the paranormal activity here in Mount Lemon. First off – to whoever sent us that email-“ he smiles wickedly with displeasure-“ -I hope you’re happy-“
He looks over at Dan who was frantically and without delay packing Tim’s pack for him. He begins to cry. He knows very well he will die and soon as he stares into the camera once more revealing tears running down his filthy cheeks. Dan ignores Tim, runs behind him and retrieves all the equipment that was on the ground and not in use by Tim and runs back to the back packs by the tent. Obviously Dan wasn’t focused on whatever was around him but only on the fact that he was just as screwed as Tim was and they needed to get out.
“-I love you mom, dad, everyone that even gave a shit about us. And I am sorry for my arrogance and everything that I have done wrong. I just-“ He pauses. “I don’t want to die-“he looks down and wipes his tears with his sleeve of his shirt. “But I already know I will-“ He looks down and sobs silently for a small minute or two then he returns back to his normal stable self to explain the situation as he sniffles hard. He looks to the camera and speaks again.
“It was believed that ghosts haunted this place on a certain schedule: Once at sundown, twice around midnight, and three times at dawn. I might have been knocked out the second time midnight came around and-“ he looks at his digital watch and pressed a button to light up the screen revealing it to be 4:00 Pm.
“-we have a rough hour before me and Dan die or see the most terrifying thing imaginable.”
“Do. Not. Come here. –Whatever you do ignore the stupid legend just don’t come here- this place will destroy you… I am already half way there. And from the looks of it-“ He stares at Dan rocking back and forth and looking with intense paranoia at his surroundings, he was sweating like a pig and shaking like a madman, almost without coherent thought as to what he was doing a minute ago. “-Dan is there too.” He says with a final shudder. He turns back to the camera.
“So for the last time this is T&D Paranormal, saying goodbye.” He reaches for the camera’s record button and stops it.
“You ready?” Dan says standing only a foot away from Tim. Tim is startled as before him is the image of Dan with a slit throat once more. “Fucking Christ!-“ Tim falls back on his ass and wipes his eyes of the dirt mixed with tears on his cheeks.
Dan reaches his hand for Tim but Tim refuses. “Tim it’s me, listen we have to get out of here!” Tim opens his eyes to see Dan back to normal again. Tim sighs and grabs his hand and is lifted from the ground next to Dan who carried a red pack on his back and hands Tim the blue one. Tim reluctantly grabs the back pack and straps it on to his person. “Let’s ditch the camera – I have a feeling we won’t be using it anymore.” Dan just nods in agreement almost as if he could care less about the camera- he was calm but the eeriness of his calmness seemed rather chilling. He seemed to have been the one with the personality disorder- now making him react differently with each passing second. “Dan are you okay?” Tim asks him feeling rather uneasy in the presence of Dan.
“Yeah. Just –need to get… out of here.” He stumbles on his words and draws a deep breath and exhales violently. “Let’s just get out of here.” Tim says and the two were off leaving the camera behind. Time held his pocket flashlight and Dan held his FLIR cam with a light atop of it.
The two hike up what seems like miles of dirt road that was called the Devil’s Trail. Past the darkness of the trees blocking out the moonlight, the darkness appears to be crippling and causing Dan to stop every few minutes because he was either too tired or he felt too sick to continue. Tim was persistent on getting out- what was going to be a week-long trip turned into a death sentence and neither one of them felt like being on death row for long.
Tim was ahead of Dan, he was a bit more eager than Dan to get out of there. But as the two traveled Tim couldn’t help but think about what was wrong with Dan. What had happened to him, he may have been seeing things but even he wasn’t suffering this much fatigue or sickness as much as Dan had been. Maybe the ghosts had set him off in some way or maybe these ghosts weren’t even ghosts at all.
Of course it wasn’t a ghost. Tim had seen enough live exorcism videos and horror films to know that demons were very real and that growling noise he heard in the recorder was definitely demonic. No doubt about it. But wasn’t he just fooling himself. Was this whole demon thing just a bad horror movie playing in his head? Who knows all he cared about was getting off this godforsaken trail- Lord knows why they called it The Devil’s Trail, now Dan and Tim knew as well.
After at least an hour’s worth of traveling Tim was starting to realize that something was wrong. They have been traveling to the exit of Devil’s Trail for about an hour now from the campsite when it had originally had taken only twenty minutes to go from the entrance to the camp; plus Dan hadn’t stopped in a while so it couldn’t have been that of which held them back for long. He wanted to keep going but he felt as if the matter was pointless- would he still travel well after two hours? Maybe Three?
“Stop!” He stopped in his tracks and dropped his pack to turn to Dan who had already began to sit down feeling tired and frustrated. “What? Why did we stop?” Dan asked breathlessly. Tim looks down at Dan and looks back to the path they just traveled- the camp was out of sight and when he quickly turn around he sees that the path to the exit seemed nearly infinite. Neither camp nor exit was visible- just a trench of dark wood trees that spread out above him feeling as if they were closing in, narrowing his vision and crushing him alive. “We have been traveling for nearly an hour we should have reached the fucking start of the trail by now!” he yells at that direction of where the trail started- or finished? He didn’t know, both ways looked the same- filled with crippling darkness and cold.
Then Dan started to giggle, almost chuckle at Tim’s frustration.
Tim while still staring at the direction of the beginning or end of the trail had heard this strange laughter and slowly listened as Dan continued to laugh behind his back. Dan’s chuckle turned into a slow deep maniacal laughter. His voice beginning to warp and Tim’s stomach beginning to churn. “Oh shit.” He says to himself. He starts to look at his digital watch only to see it was glowing on its own and the digital numbers were changing rapidly it was like the watch was going crazy until suddenly the watch stops at six am. From behind him he hears Dan breathing but it was an abnormal kind of breathing, as if he was someone else.
“Leaving so early?” Dan asks, though Tim had a perfectly good idea that this wasn’t Dan speaking. Tim quickly turns around and see’s Dan sitting down. Quickly he pulls out his flashlight and shines it at Dan. Only to reveal Dan staring up at Tim with his throat slit wide open spilling a waterfall of blood and with dark, pitch-black eyes, and a cruel unusual grin.
“We still have so much more to show you…” He laughs heartily and loudly as if combining roaring with laughter.
Tim wasted no time made a run for it. He dashed violently for the starting of the trail for he knew that he was being chased down by Dan- his now possessed brother. He left everything- the pack his brother- just up and left. He knew his brother was gone and that there was only a small sliver of hope left for him.
The only thing he kept on him was his precious flashlight. Despite everything he had just seen he still held a deep fear of the dark. He couldn’t help but swear under his breath as he ran hastily up the mountain’s trail. Hi heart pounded with intensity almost fueling his need to run; for if he so much as rested for a second he was dead. The sad truth was he was never getting out and there was a very slim chance that he will ever get away from Dan.
Dan however was running, after him as well only it wasn’t Dan; what lies inside him now is merely darkness, an unnecessary evil added to the mix. A mix of hate, evil, and unholy power. This all dawned to Tim that there was no order of hauntings, just a bunch of fucked up hauntings that toyed with your mind. Of course the email was right on establishing a schedule but the only bullshit part was the number of times these things happened- thus explaining why there was no coverage on the other two hauntings rather than the first one with the blue orbs- the filmmakers must have died attempting to film it. And Tim felt like he was next on the long list of paranormal assholes about to be consumed by the trail.
“YOU CANNOT RUN MUCH LONGER!” yelled the now possessed Dan from afar. But Tim didn’t care he just kept running and running.
“SOONER OR LATER- WE ARE ALL CONSUMED BY THE TRAIL!” He shouted with a loud roaring laugh. Tim continued to run. Until…
Out of the dirt of the trail hands started to shoot up from the ground. Tim though startled tries to ignore the hands. Each one attempting to grab Tim and drag him down. He jumps doges and even runs at different directions and is still unable to escape the hands erupting from the ground. Each hand seemed to be missing some flesh and showed some bone, but more than all of them were a pale sickly greyish color. The hands soon multiplied- more and more had risen from the ground. Tim was heaving gasping for breath. He couldn’t do it anymore he just couldn’t run. He was growing weak almost about to pass out. He begins to slow down unintentionally and one hand has finally gotten ahold of his pant leg. He panics, yells even for help though he knows none will come. and before he knows it he is being covered by these hands shooting from the ground and pulled into the ground. The dirt pressing on his face with immense pressure and pain. He yells louder and louder for he knows that he was going to die. “NO NO PLEASE PLEASE!!!” He yells in panic at the edge of tears. “NO, GOD- WHY? PLEASE!!” But it is too late his entire body is covered by the hands and darkness swallows him whole. Ironic and almost tragic it is to die in the very fabric of your worst fear. Death by darkness.
Unfortunately for Tim- he isn’t dead. These things weren’t done with him just yet.

CHAPTER 6

“Noo!” he shouts as he is not pulled into the ground but is pushed right back out of the muddy landscape. He slowly rises from the dirt covered in it from head to toe. He coughs and spits and gasps for air as he sits up to catch his breath. “What the hell?” He asks himself as he coughs one more time. A few seconds pass and he looks up only to find that he is back at the campground once more. He panics as he stares at the shredded tent and the surprising change of lighting. Few of the trees had lit torches held onto the bodies of the trees. The place looked as if a ritual of some sort was about to go down. Tim begins to hyperventilate as he notices that the trail that he just walked was no longer there. Once again there was only forest-no trail and it seemed that he wasn’t going to escape just by going through miles and miles of trees. After al how far can he get without being sucked back here by those things? Hell how can anyone get far with these woods being so thick and dark.
Either way he was dead.
He quickly strands up and mumbles to himself in cold sweat. “No, no, no; this is impossible- no.” Though it was impossible, it had just happened there was no denying reality at this point. He turns around to see his camera-still on its tri-pod and playing some of the footage taken earlier. He was shocked and even scared that this footage started playing on its own. He was even more terrified to think that maybe this didn’t play by itself. Maybe Dan- or at least what was now inside Dan- had played the footage and hid somewhere before Tim and come up from the ground.
“D-Dan?” He stuttered in fear.
“Dan, What’s wrong?”
Tim said on the playback of the camera. Tim recognizes what this was and slowly makes his way to the camera in front of him. And just like that his heart drops as he looks closely at the camera to see the part where he was choking on nothingness as the red orbs surrounded both him and Dan on the camera.
He watches as he gasping for air in the midst of the red light.
“Am I- dying?”
“No-“ Just as Dan’s deep voice is cut off and the camera shuts down, Tim is greeted by another voice.
“-But you will be.” Dan says from behind Tim. He then swings his arm and sends Tim flying across the camp. Tim lands on his arm upon the dirt ground almost breaking it. He screams in pain and looks toward Dan- his eyes wide with fear. Dan’s eyes however, were dark and black with evil. To Tim’s surprise the open slash in his throat wasn’t there. What had happened? Did Dan heal all of the sudden or was he just screwing with Tim’s mind at first? Oh well who cares now was the time for escape.
Tim quickly tries but fails at lifting himself from the ground. The pain in his left arm was too great, “Give up now Tim- while you still have the chance.” Dan says in his normal voice smiling wickedly as he walks mockingly toward Tim. “No, go away, please!” he pleads but it is too late, Dan grabs Tim’s broken arm and pulls it behind Dan’s back. Tim yells and even cries in sheer agony as his already broken arm is being twisted and contorted in this cruel position.
“Say hi to the camera, Tim.” Dan says to Tim. Tim kept thinking that it can’t get any worse than this; Dan even when possessed cannot be this cruel or hateful. But sadly to say this was not the end of it. Dan lifts Tim by the same arm, dislocating it beyond repair. The bone is now piercing through the skin and even breaking more and more each second. Tim was on the brink of wishing for death, death though sudden and as bad as it sounds could stop this pain. He could end it right here, all he would have to do was ask for it.
“Please, please, just kill me.” He begs, wishing for death to take him there. His bone sticks out from his elbow like a knife and practically exits the broken limb leaving that part of the arm without this piece of the puzzle. “No you want that-oh you twisted son of a bitch! I thought you knew better?” Dan said as he shifts his grip to hang on to Tim’s shirt and to grab onto his forearm. “Don’t you see?- Death will take all the fun out of eating- your soul!” Dan yells as he separates Tim from his broken arm permanently leaving a bloody stump on Tim’s left side bleeding nonstop. Dan laughs wickedly as he drops Tim who now bleeds to his death, lying on his back facing evil itself-living within Dan. It was now Tim’s impression that Dan no longer existed- that he was gone and now there was this thing staring at him with his deep dark eyes and wicked grin.
Dan crouches down above Tim who could do nothing but wait for death to come. “You know, I didn’t know what was more stupid: you thinking that you were come out of this alive? Or you believing you were going to be famous for this stupid ghost hunting shit?” Tim groans, extending his other arm grabbing at dirt and trying to move his left stub that was bleeding uncontrollably. “What’s wrong brother? Miss ol’ lefty?” Dan laughs while Tim puts his last bit of strength into this final act of defense.
“You are NOT my brother!”
Tim yells as he grabs hold of the piece of bone that slipped away earlier and directs the sharpest end at Dan’s throat. In one swift motion Dan’s throat is slit open and blood from his neck runs down his chest and even splatters upon Tim’s face. Dan’s expressionless eyes turn back to normal again as the dark dissipates from his eyes. Dan gasps hard and long before he looks down at his brother.
“Dan?” Tim asks while dropping the bone onto the ground; for there was a feeling of hope- hope in which his brother was still alive inside.
But it was too late for hope. Blood has been spilt only to dry up once more. And as the sun rose up on the horizon shining through branches of the dark forest of Devil’s Trail Dan could only speak these words:
“I-I’m, s-s-sorry…” He collapses and lands next to Tim on his left in a puddle of Tim’s blood, and soon to be mixed with his blood as well. “I’m sorry too-“He says weakly, unable to speak anymore words. Not to mention the fact that his breaths were limited. He only had time to admire that the camera was there on the tri-pod aimed directly at the two dying boys.
Tim thought to himself, that his dreams to be a ghost hunter really were stupid. Honestly who would want to end up like this someday? Dying on a dirt trail next to your once-possessed brother? A trail named only after Lucifer himself. This was no way to die but at least, he thought, at least he could find peace in knowing that his brother was free of evil’s grip. He looks up and stares at the sky now starting to turn a shade of purple and orange almost like a reversed sunset.
Well this was nice. Who said death couldn’t be beautiful, or at least have a beautiful setting?
At the sight of the sky he could feel himself slipping away, his vision grows dimmer and his breaths become shallow.
At least we tried. He thought.
God, if only we have lived to tell others- then Dan and I would have been set for life. Doing what we loved and making money by doing it.
That would have been great.
Minutes pass as he is drawing closer to death and lays there in silence. Dan has been long since dead, Tim was only taking so long because his blood had clotted some of his veins releasing blood into his arm. He endures what was a slow, silent, painful, but peaceful death.
At least we got it all on tape.
He moves his eyes toward the camera fading in and out of his vision, until before his eyes the camera disappears into thin air.
END.