Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S3 Ep133: Episode 133: Wilderness Horror Stories

Episode Date: July 27, 2023

Our first terrifying tale of the macabre is ‘My dad used to tell me a story about a cave in the mountains’ by the wonderfully talented Corpse Child, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all: /user/Corpse_Child/ Today’s second phenomenal story is ‘The Monster from the Louisiana Bayou’, an original story by Janis Kent [originally titled ‘Oink’]; shared directly with me via email and read here with the author’s express permission. Today’s final tale of the weird and macabre is ‘I'm a Photographer Specializing in Remote Wilderness Expeditions, I Think This is my Last Job’, an original work by Nick Moore, narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission: /user/nmwrites/

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Visit cfir.com.ca. to Dr. Creepin's dungeon. The wilderness can be both beautiful and or inspiring, but it also holds an air of mystery and unpredictability that can be perceived as creepy or unsettling. For some, it's the isolation and solitude. For others, it's the strange nocturnal sounds. But proper preparation, knowledge and respect for nature

can help individuals enjoy their wilderness experiences while staying safe and minimizing feelings one needs. Well, most of the time. Hours ever before we begin, a word of caution. Night's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing. Then let's begin. My dad used to tell me a story about a cave in the mountains where a couple of young boys went missing.

After finding it, I realized the truth was a hell of a lot scarier. Like corpse child. Will you tell us the story again, Dad? Yeah, Dad. Tell us about Little Johnny's Cave, please. I still remember those days, sitting around a campfire in the backyard and listening to Dad tell that story.

It was our favourite. Little Johnny's Cave. It was as cheesy as spooky campfire stories got back then, and you can bet that me and my little sister Linda ate up every little bit of it. He himself didn't care to. too much for telling it, though. At the time, me and Linda didn't really understand why. I guess to us, it was just his way of trying to build tension, you know.

Kind of like how you try to sound dramatic when you urge someone to not go looking for this or that, or don't do this, or the monster's going to get you. Now, though, I realize it wasn't that at all. Looking back, I can remember the look you'd always get on his face when we'd beg him to tell that story. It was cold, sunken, sad, scared even, both probably. It was the look that said, Why do I have to talk about this?

It only hurts when I do. Like I said, though, we were too young and way too excited to know what really can. I guess, in our defense, you can't really expect much better from a couple of first graders who thought their dad was the coolest, coupled with a childhood film to the brim with watching classic master movies, can you? In any case, he'd go silent for a while, probably a sort of. solid five minutes or more, and just stare intently into the fire. Me and Linda knew when we saw this that things were about to get good.

Even if it sounded no different than the last hundred-something odd times we'd heard the little Johnny's cave tale, and it usually didn't. It was still the peak of the evening, the main event of the night. Oh, I can still see it. The way he stared coldly and distantly at the fire as he took several deep breaths, readying himself. We and Linda always scooted closer, grabbing another marshmallow to char and stuff our faces with while we listened. When he began, he always furrowed his eyebrows intensely with concentration.

A long time ago, two little boys, about y'all's age now, ran off to play hide-and-seek while they was on vacation up here in Grandview Pines. It was their favorite game, see. They loved trying to find each other in those dense woods. Ah, them trees, you see, they was always tall and big around, and they grouped together. This made it easy for little fellas like these two boys to get themselves lost. That was part of the fun, you see. They liked getting lost. That's why they played it so much.

He was always pushing to see how long it had taken to find each other. Soon they figured out the woods, you know, started memorizing which trees made good hide-and-spits and which ones didn't. See, they was getting bald. So, one day they was out walking in the woods, looking at all the big, tall green trees, wondering how to make the game more fun. That's when the little brother, little Colin, saw it look like a big old cave in the side of the mountain. Now, this cave was big, big enough to fit the three of us in there five times over all at once. But what was even better was how dark it was.

See, in that cave, not even the sun could break through. It was dark. It was spooky. There was no way his brother would find him in that. I bet you'll never find me, Johnny. Little Colin shouted to his older brother before running off into the cave. Johnny, caught off guard, shouts to little Colin to wait up. Now, of course, little Colin was eager.

He wanted to get hid quick, but his big brother would be able to find him. It wasn't long before Johnny couldn't see Colin no more, disappearing into that deep, dark cave. Colin, he shouted as loud as he could. Colin, where are you going? But little Colin didn't answer. He was long gone. Johnny started searching frantically for his little brother.

When he found the cave, he saw little Colin run to. He tried calling his name out one more time. Colin, where are you? From inside the cave, Johnny heard what sounded like the pattern of little feet across the stone floor, going deeper into the cave. I wanted to catch up to his little brother. Johnny starts running into the cave after him. He ran and ran deeper and deeper into that cave.

But he seemed like the longer he ran, the more the cave seemed to stretch. The deeper it went, the darker it became. Soon Johnny couldn't see anything at all. All he could do was follow the soft pattern of Little Collins' footsteps. Now Johnny was getting scared. He wanted to go home, but more than that, he just wanted to be. to find his little brother. Colin, he cried.

Colin, where are you? Still, all he'd hear was those little feet. He kept following him until suddenly Johnny thought he could smell something burning. The smell was strong and he could feel smoke burning his eyes, like with this fire here. From ahead in the dark part of the cave, there was a voice that called out to Johnny, a voice that sounded like a snake that was being choked.

Just a little closer. Come on, just a little closer, little boy. Now Johnny knew that wasn't his little brother's voice. He didn't know what to do. He was scared now, terrified, in fact. The burning smell got closer and closer. The fumes from the smoke were making him gag now. Oh, you can't escape me, little boy.

You're mine now. The voice hissed. Oh, this may be. Johnny want to run, take off back for home, but as soon as he turned around, the exit was gone, no sunlight, no hole at the other side of the cave. Nothing. What was he going to do? He could feel something was getting close now from deep inside the cave. Something bad. You're mine now, and you'll never leave my cave. Johnny was terrified, was about to take off. He was mine. He was mine. back the way he came when from inside the cave he heard what sounded like a little boy screaming it wasn't

just any little boy screaming either johnny knew it was his little brother carlin he shouted but his little brother only kept screaming like someone had put his little foot in a bear trap i'm coming calling he took off running deeper and deeper the further he went the louder and more painful his little brother's screaming got along with this colin smelt something burning again kind of like this wiener i'm roasting here see but johnny just kept on running he had to keep going he had to rescue his little brother the screaming got louder and louder calling he screamed i'm coming colin hold on he couldn't see nothing no more everything was dark all he could hear was his little brother squealing till eventually he tripped over something.

When he looked up, there was now two large, white, evil eyes beaten down on him. Well, little Johnny froze. He couldn't move. Then, from under the eyes, the monster opened his mouth and grinned, showing off long, sharp teeth. Then the monster held something up in front of little Johnny that finally made him wet himself, screaming. In the monster's hand was Little Colin. When Little Johnny tried to reach for him, Little Colin's skin suddenly caught fire, burning away all his skin until he was nothing but bones.

Now it's your turn, the monster told him. That's when the monster tried grabbing him, but Little Johnny was too quick. The monster missed and Little Johnny took off, head him back quick as his little legs had carried him back towards the entrance of the cave. Just like before he ran and ran. He could hear the monster hot in his little tail. He couldn't stop running else he was a goner. Eventually little Johnny realized like how when he came in he couldn't see any light ahead. No matter how far he ran it only got darker and darker in the cave.

You couldn't see and his little legs was getting tired. But he couldn't stop. He had to keep going. The monster was going to get him. So he just kept running. Well, they say he still is today. Running around in that deep dog cave, still trying to find his way out. If you see the cave, listen real close. You'll hear his little feet.

Tap, tap, tap. Still trying to get out. His voice would always sound. cold when he finished. He never said anything like the end or tried to make any exaggerated faces to signal that he was just trying to give us kids a good spook. No, the man's face was like stone, chiseled and stoic. For a long time, we'd all just sit in silence. Me and Linda just absorbing the story and its intensity once again while the old man would just sit there, staring dead silent, almost like he was in a trance at the fire. Like I said,

I've heard that exact same story, word for word, at least a hundred or more times growing up. Never tried to change it. Like so many others do when trying to tell the same story over and over again. You know, to keep it fresh or whatever. No, each and every time it was always the same story. Details and all, verbatim, always with that same stone cold stare. Looking back, I think even then I noticed this, which made me all the more fascinated with it. You see, when he told that story, he wasn't just telling a catfire story to a couple of kids, but like he was telling something that happened to him in a way. I guess that was the other reason we loved it so much.

The way it felt so real. And again, he never tried to embellish or exaggerate anything with the way he sounded. He told the story, and that was what happened every time. Of course, eventually time would move on, and so would we, sort of. me and Linda would grow up, make friends to go hang out with, get involved with clubs or sports, and just generally ditching her backyard campfire tradition on the weekends. That said, and though I couldn't speak for Linda at the time,

that story, little Johnny's Cave, was still one of the coolest things to me. I remember how I used to always try and tell my friends a story, either at lunch or at recess. Of course, I knew they didn't believe it like I did. I couldn't tell it like Dad would. I'd always end up somehow giving it away that it was just a story. No matter how hard I tried to look and sound as cold or distant as the old man,

I just couldn't pull it off. I guess I just couldn't make it real like him, you know. That was the other thing. I always wondered how or why he was able to make it real like that. What was his secret? What gave him that edge? What made him go cold when we asked to tell him that story? What scared him so much about him?

it. Oh, back then I never really tried asking him. I guess A, I felt like that wouldn't do me much good. Outside of getting fed some BS like, oh, that's just me spooking you, there's no cave, or some lame shit like that. And, or B, I just felt like that would have been too easy, you know. I mean, that's always half the fun with this stuff, isn't it? Imagining you're the one tumbling down the rabbit hole, but in real life? Well, remember how I daydream, often in class, and yes, this did result in awkward situations, or at night time. I'd be the one running off into Little Johnny's cave.

I'd run deeper and deeper, losing myself into the darkness. I'd run into the monster, imagining it to be this hulking beast, or even the devil, with long teeth and claws, able to breathe fire like a dragon, and he'd try to chase me, but I'd always outrun him. Of course in my dreams I'd always find my way back out again and sometimes instead of running I'd stand and fight the monster

always winning of course The point is it had an impact on me back then And it's never gone away even now Though now seeing the truth behind what happened It has a much bigger impact on me One that's far more real and far more haunting Than even Dad could have made it seem around the fire Hey Ontario

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with Eye Gaming Ontario. Part two. It was a couple of weeks ago. Classes at college had just ended for the year, and I was throwing a party with some of my dorm mates to celebrate. Unlike all parties, we had chips, dip, music, the hottest chicks on campus, and plenty of beer with a little extra on the side, if you take my meaning.

He'd been going wild all night until about 2.30 in the morning, where most, at least ones that were still conscious, started heading out. I and a couple of other close friends, however, were still wide away. I was veged out across the couch, with Larry sprawled out in one of the beambag chairs on the floor, and Eddie in the recliner on my right. All of us damn near completely wasted. I guess because we were bored or because we were just out of our senses, it was suggested that we'd have ourselves a little contest of who could tell the scariest story.

Basically, the deal was that we'd all tell one and vote at the end as to whose story was the scariest. Larry went first with some generic story about a guy you'd get. it's murdered with his hands coming back to kill people or something like that had he followed that with an equally cheesy quote-unquote drew encounter with a wendigo well he could tell it was fake when he described the way he fought the creature and escaped with his life they were goofy as hell sure not scary in the slightest but all the same enjoyable enough to listen to at least while intoxicated when it came to my turn though you bet your ass i told the story of little johnny's game like before i tried as much as ever to mimic the way dad told the story though i personally doubted it actually felt like when he did it

seemed to achieve the same effect sure enough judging from the looks of speechlessness on my friend's faces when i finished dude larry exclaimed i think you just won shit he snickered while eddie just continued staring in shock at me. Where'd you come up with that one? I chuckled. I didn't. I grew up hearing that one. Larry's eyes went wide with amazement again,

mouthing, holy shit. Me, um, Grandview Pines, Eddie piped up, still staring somewhat nervously at me. Me and Larry looked over to him. Didn't you say all that happened in Grandview Pines? Yeah, why? I heard of that place before.

My folks used to go hiking up there. Well, now my eyes went wide. Hey, hold on, I chimes growing excited. You've been to Grenview Pines. Ali shook his head. Just my folks. I used to go there when I was younger whenever they wanted some alone time

away from me and my brother's fricant. I'd even bring back these cool little stones as souvenirs for us kids. They also used to talk about how pretty it was there. He snickered before adding, or at least they'd try to. Oh, God knows we didn't give a damn about listening to him back then. Oh, so you don't think they've ever seen the cave? He thought for a second before shrugging.

Well, they may have. Well, them gems they used to bring back had to come from somewhere. Like I said, though, I never really bothered paying much attention when they tried talking about their trips. Sounds like you in history class. Larry quipped. Eddie smirked and flipped him off. I guess some things never change, huh? I snorted at this.

It was true. He usually did end up falling asleep during almost every world civilization's lecture. Granted, they were 6am classes, and the coffee shops on campus wouldn't even open until 7. Luckily for him, I, being the good friend I am, always sat behind him and made sure to waking up when the profession arrived to begin. Hey, Larry piped up again. "'Roe, I just had an idea.' We looked to him. "'Why don't we take a trip up there?'

"'Me and Eddie looked to each other, and then back to Larry. "'Think about it. "'I've always been talking about trying to hang out somewhere for a weekend "'once classes ended. "'Why not?' "'He looked at me and said, "'Oh, who knows?

"'We may even stumble on little Johnny's cave.' "'He followed this up by making ghost noises with his eyes wide, "'and Eddie and I just snickered at this. Well, I'd be down, I said, turning to Eddie. What about you, Ed? Want to join in? He thought for a moment before replying. Ah, Cad.

I'm already booked to spend most of the summer with Hannah and our folks at the beach. Larry scoffed. Ah, typical. Passing up time with your friends to hit the beach with your girl, huh? I laughed again. It really was amusing to watch those two go at it. Ed just rolled his eyes and flipped him both barrels. Larry sighed and said,

"'Ah well, it looks like it's just you and me, bro.' "'Right on,' I replied, excitedly. We fist bumped and he looked at his watch before saying he had to head back to his dorm to pack for his trip to the beach. After teasing him again, we wished him luck, and he left. For about the next week or so, when I wasn't packing, I started looking at Grenfew Pines online.

From the picture I saw I could tell you one thing, and these folks weren't kidding when they said it was pretty. Let's just say that either someone had the most high-deaf quality camera and some seriously wicked editing skills when taking these pictures. Well, the place was just that beautiful, that none of that was necessary to make them look so good. The place was huge, too, with an abundance of hiking trails, plenty of areas to travel through,

as well as get yourself lost in. Curious, I looked around to see if there were any caves in the area, either pictured or listed in an article. I found one or two that were pictured, but no real details on them as far as what they were like on the inside, how deep they went or so on. That led me to actually try googling Little Johnny's Cave. Of course, nothing really came up,

which was what I'd expected, but still nothing lost in trying rights. Though I was able to find an old news article headlined, Little Boy declared missing in Mountain Cave, Intrigued, I clicked on it, taking me to a forum post from a couple of years back with the article. The article itself was dated from back in early June of 1961. It was a pretty quick read, admittedly, with a clear lack of any real details. Basically it read that a family went on a trip to the mountains that summer,

and their two boys, two elementary school best friends, obviously neither of which were named in print or pictures in the post, went off one afternoon to play in the woods. Apparently, though, come nightfall, neither of them came back. It took a little over a week, even having to get the state troopers to canvass the entire mountainside with a fine-tooth comb, before, finally, one of the brothers was found again, but not the other. According to the article, when the boy was found, understandably petrified, he kept crying

to the authorities that he'd lost his friend. There wasn't anything I was able to find after that, though. Other than the missing boy, even after a massive two and a half year search, was never found. I tried doing a search for the article itself, wondering if maybe I could dig up anything else, like where in the mountains or even which mountain. This resulted, though, in the same headline being brought up, with no other sort of details, basically meaning it was more or less the same thing from the forum post, the only difference this time being that the boys were both pictured in this one.

the one that was missing I didn't recognize but the other one the one they found did look somewhat familiar it reminded me of the way I looked back in my old elementary school pictures when I looked to see where the paper was printed though I saw that it was from a small town area located just a little ways down from Grenview Pines well at least there's some connection I thought finally deciding to call it quits

I knew now that something actually happened in Grandview Pines view a long time ago and that it involved a little boy going missing of course what i didn't know was where given that no specific area in the mountain side was mentioned when detailing where the boys went missing or where the first one was found including any mention of a cave it was that friday that me and larry hit the road the drive itself was largely a quiet one after about the first hour after leaving town that was until we actually got into grenview pines when neither one of us could stop gorking at the scenery. Remember what I said about the online photos?

Well, I could see now that there was no kind of editing involved. All of it 100% real. We actually spent a good 20-something-odd minutes or so just driving around, sightseeing. Eventually, Larry spotted an overlook area close to a nearby trail where we could park and we got out to stretch our legs. To save space, we decided early on that we weren't going to bother with tents or anything like that for this trip. opting just to sleep in my SUV for the few days we'd be there. So with just the clothes on our backs and our small backpacks,

we headed into the woods. It was about 1.30 when we started. I figured we'd be able to hike for a few hours and head back to the SUV at about six, making it back just before sunset when it would get dark. As we went along, the trees seemed to get more and more grouped together, compacted almost. Even in spite of this, though, they seemed to stand. out all the same individually. Each one of them was tall and broad, all of them with lush, lively green leaves. Some of them, particularly of course the young ones, I noticed it were weaved in

intricate ways, competing for sunlight. Because of this, losing ourselves in the scenery, I actually damn near forgot completely about the time. Coincidentally, it was right as we'd stopped at a small clearing, a break off from the trail with a small riverbank, and undoubtedly the clearest and most beautiful creek I'd ever seen, and probably ever would see in my entire life. But Larry thought to ask me what time it was. My eyes went wide when I saw it was already fall. Oh shit, we've got to head back, I said. Oh damn, Larry replied. Can we just rest for a little bit? I looked at the sky of the sun was just starting its downward trek towards the horizon.

Oh, it's going to get dark soon, dude. Yeah, yeah, okay. I'm coming, he grunted as he made his back up to his feet. Well, it's a shame too, he said. This should have made it for a nice little hour and hour spot. He shrugged and said, Yeah, well, maybe tomorrow. I noticed him trail off at the end of his last sentence,

directing his focus to something off to my right. What? I asked him. What is it? Is that... He began. Is that what I think it is? What, what are you talking about? He pointed in the direction he was looking.

I didn't see anything at first. Hey, I don't see anything. What's up? You don't see that? The opening of that cave over there. My heart slowly started to beat faster. Now concentrating closer. Sure enough, there it was.

A large opening in the side of the mountain. He started off towards it Yeah I see it Wait hey what are you doing I want to see inside it I'll only take a minute I promise You jogged over to it

Well I quickly followed after him We both ran to the cave Noticing the eerie way it sort of got bigger The closer we came to it When we stopped just outside the mouth We saw that it was at least 30 or so feet long At least 20 or 30 feet wide Oh enough to fit the three of us inside

five times over. From the entrance, I couldn't see anything inside. Not even a foot ahead of us was visible. Everything was black, a seemingly boundless hole in the mountainside. So dark, not even the sun could break through. Now a shiver was crawling up and down my spine. This couldn't be, could it? I was completely speechless, looking at it from the mouth.

Fear and excitement was slowly but. building up in the pit of my stomach at the same time. God, had I done it? Had I just found my fabled little Johnny's cave? What was in there? Would I hear his footsteps echoing off the walls of the cave? Would I run into the monster? Curious, I actually cut my ear at the entrance

to see if I'd hear the soft pattering of little feet across the stone. I heard something that had a similar tempo, for lack of any better words, similar to footsteps but I could tell they weren't probably just dropless of dew from the limestone or something I told myself but even still my imagine couldn't help but kick into maximum overdrive by this point what's in there

I don't know exactly how long I stood there gorking in amazement like this twenty minutes maybe could have been thirty but it was shattered abruptly when I watched Larry start shambling inside. Larry, wait, I called him. Don't worry, I just want to look for a minute. I'll be right back and just hold on. I watched him start to walk deeper and deeper, running his hand along the wall of the cave. I looked at the sky. Now the sun was already a quarter of the way down. Dude, look, we don't have time. We can come back tomorrow. It's going to get dark soon.

Inside the cave, almost mostly gone from sight. Larry's shamed. Larry shouted. back teasing. What? You're afraid of the dark? You scared the monster's going to get you? I then heard him walk deeper into the cave, disappearing completely from view. Oh dude, come on.

Quit screwing around. We need to get back. I got no response this time. I sighed. Fine, but when you're stumbling around lost in the woods in the dark, don't come crying to me. And with that, I turned and started to make my wife. way back to the SUV. I didn't make it five feet away though, before I realized that Larry had

the keys to the SUV. I'd given them to him in the event that we had to make an emergency run back, a.k.a. he forgot something, as he often did. I thought, slapping my forehead. Now I had to go after him. Almost without thinking, I sprinted into the cave. Larry, I shouted. Hey, come on, man, seriously, we need to go. No answer. Well, Harry? I slowed down. Everything was dark around me, a silent, black voids.

I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight, which, at best, lit up a small radius around me, but basically nothing else. All I could see was the dark, solid stone of the cave all around me. Taking another look at my phone, I realized I was screwed again when I saw the battery life red twenty-five. 5%. Oh, great. Larry, I called again. Damn it, come on. It's six now, and the sun's already set. Silence. Where the hell is he? Where did he go? He couldn't have gotten that far, could he? I started walking further, albeit a good bit slower, more hesitant. I couldn't suppress a shiver that shook through my body in a uniformed convulsion. I won't lie. I was actually getting getting nervous here, scared even. Even with the light I had, the dim, almost dead and

already near useless amount of it, all I could see ahead of me was darkness. Maybe darkness isn't the word for it though. Maybe void would be more appropriate. You see, it wasn't just dark, it wasn't just dead silent. It was empty. Ahead of me was basically a black hole that looked and felt like it went on for eternity without end. Oh, of course, I mean, it has to end somewhere right. I wondered, trying to grasp onto some kind of hug. It's only just a cave, right? We can't stretch that much further, can it?

Is this what it was like for? I stopped, shaking my head. I wasn't about to start nurturing the idea. Oh, come on, get a grip. Just find Larry's dumbass and get out. My heart shook when I heard an ear splitting shriek in the distance. Larry! Immediately I broke from my stupor and took off further into the cave where I heard the noise.

I could hear groans of pain trailing from ahead. Oh, Larry, hang on, man. I'm coming. The more I ran, despite seeming to get closer to where the sounds were coming from, I still seemed at the same time somehow to not get closer to it at all. Larry, where are you? Here, I heard from somewhere off to my left. You okay? He groaned.

I think my leg's broken. My eyes widened and I ran at full speed in his direction. Because I couldn't see anything though. That meant I couldn't see him either. That is until I ended up tripping right over him and face planting right into the stone ground of the cave. Larry let out another shriek of pain. Fuck, that was my leg.

Oh, shit. Larry, Hold on, I said, scrambling for my bag. I started shuffling around until I was able to find the quote-unquote first-aid kids that I brought, aka a Ziplog bag with a thing of band-aids, niospuren, rubbing alcohol and a large roll of gauze. I pulled out the gauze and started looking around for a stick or something to use as a splint. Larry was in hysterics, writhing and clutching his leg. Hey, calm down.

Breathe, I said, as I started to. bandage a nearby twig to his leg. Having luckily managed to find a decent enough-sized stick, he couldn't breathe, though. He was in too much pain, and I was worried he'd start going into shock. I pulled a water bottle from my bag. Here, keep this against your leg. It's not ice, but it's all I've got.

He managed to calm down, then, just a little, when I said this, enough to at least actually hold the bottle against his leg. I knew he was going to need serious medical attention, But when I went to try and use my phone, unsurprisingly, there was no service. On top of this, the battery was almost dead, which meant that it wouldn't be long before I'd end up losing what little light I had to work with. I started looking frantically around for something, anything to use for making a fire. Finally, I was able to find a couple of rocks laying around that, looking closer, look like they might be Ossidian. Hey, take off your shirt.

What are you doing? Larry groaned as I began taking off my own. and setting them in a pile with the remaining sticks underneath them before scraping the rocks together. Hoping for a miracle, I replied. Sure enough, said miracle was granted and a spark was generated and the shirts caught fire almost immediately. I knew it wouldn't last long, but maybe if I were careful it could last long enough to find us the way out. And of course, that was a hell of a lot easier said than actually done. With no signal, no other source of light, and Larry's leg bent in every different way from what it's supposed to be, we were essentially stuck. I tried for the

first time to look behind me back to the exit. It was then, though, that I found that I couldn't see the other side. Part three. At first I thought it was just because it was night time. But after looking back towards the fire, I realized that wasn't it. It wasn't just dark. It was empty. In other words, the opening was completely gone, almost like it hadn't been there at all. What the hell?

I said aloud. What? What is it? The opening. The way out, dude, it's gone. He groaned, struggling to bring his head up. What are you talking about? It's right.

Wait. What the fuck? His eyes were wide open again, despite having been in excruciating pain. He started hyperventiling. What the fuck? Where's the exit? Calm down. I'm going to get us out.

Larry's in my head snapped back towards the depths of the cave at the same time. My heart stopped cold. What in the name of God was that? What the fuck, dude? Larry cried. hyperventilating again. From ahead, there was still nothing visible but darkness. Yet the stomping got closer and closer. Flooded through me. I could feel every urge, every instinct trying to force me to move, to take off and run. But I couldn't. Larry started squirming. We've got to get out of here,

man. He squealed. We've got to get out of here. He started struggling to drag himself towards me. That's when I realized that the fire I'd made was fading. I noticed, though, that it wasn't exactly like it was flickering or anything like that. It was more like it was dimming, like it was being sucked away or siphoned off by the darkness ahead. The same was true with my phone, seeing it start to flicker before going completely dark again. The more the fire faded, the more I realized that the darkness was actually moving closer towards us. With each earth shaking step towards the two of us, I could see the black wall of nothing, inch closer and closer, swallowing more and more of the cave with it. It was right on top of us when

the fire finally blinked out like an old light bulb. We were engulfed in darkness again, total, pure and unadulterated darkness. Larry, I cried, spinning in circles, completely blind. Larry, where are you? I got no response from him. Instead, I was met only with the stomping. When I ran forward to try and find him, I felt something pull and stretched me from every different direction all at once, trying to pull me apart. I looked to see what it was, but still saw nothing, only darkness.

The darkness itself was attempting to rip me apart. It was alive, and it was hungry. Larry, I called out again, straining. He made no reply. The darkness must have already taken him. The longer I stayed in this darkness, the more I felt as though he was trying to sear the flesh from my bones. In the back of my mind, I could hear those words coming back to me, the monster. You're mine now, and you'll never leave my cave. And that's when I realized what I had to do. I had to do what little Johnny did. I had to run. Summining every bit, every minute reserve of stamina I had in me, and then some, I turned and

bolted like a bat straight out of hell towards the exit, or at least where I thought the exit originally was. It was a struggle to move or even breathe, and the stumps were in hot pursuit behind me. Like with before, all I could see was blackness ahead. The feeling of being stretched was coming from all around me now. The darkness had me encircled, and yet, Still, I ran. I couldn't stop. I have to get out. Because of this, I don't know how long or even really how far I'd ran when I suddenly tripped and was sent tumbling.

I could feel an excruciating pain to shoot through my right arm when I tried to break my fall, clearly having broken it. I struggled back to my feet and started sort of limp running. As much as it hurt, though, I had to keep going. I could feel my leg starting to eat. I was afraid at any second I collapsed again and this time I wouldn't be able to will myself back up. And then the darkness, the cave, the monster would have me like it had Larry. I'm not going to make it.

But then, as if an angel was extending me some sort of blessing or divine intervention, I saw dead ahead through the darkness the opening of the cave. I pushed my body beyond all limit to break into a sprint for it. and behind me I could hear it quickening its own stride, realizing that I was about to get away. It was getting desperate. In one last burst, I launched myself from where I was standing out from the cave. Once again, I was sent rolling and tumbling into the woods. When I finally landed still, my body instantly racked all over with eggs and pains in almost every part of my body.

I opened my eyes and looked up. Above me was the night sky, dark silhouette. wets of trees leering over me. I'd have jumped for joy, were it not for the pain coursing through me. I'd done it. I'd made it out. I'm alive. I was able to let out a strained laugh of relief. This feeling was soon replaced with alarm. Oh, Larry, he's still in there. I looked up and over to the cave. I wanted to go back for him to rescue him from the cave, just like little Johnny with his little brother. At the same time, though, I knew that it would be no good.

Even if he were still alive, not consumed by the darkness like how I almost was. Well, I was in no shape to be able to get him out of there. Thoughts flooded my head, imagining Larry, screaming in terror, his skin being slowly burned away until only his bones remained. Oh God, what do I do? In the end I decided to try heading back to the SUV where I then drive out to the nearest town to fight help Admittedly I wasn't sure what good anybody else would do

given that it wasn't like I could give any sort of detail as to where in the mountain the cave was Plus I knew the chances of finding him inside Or even what could have been left of him Alive or dead Would be essentially way for slim to absolutely none It was difficult having to try and backtrack in the dark, exhausted and in a lot of pain from my arm,

as well as the effects of the darkness still only slowly wearing off. But I couldn't have cared less. I was determined to make it back to my vehicle. Eventually, come the very beginning of daybreak, I found the SUV again. The last speck of energy was spent shambling forward and getting inside. After that, completely spent physically, emotionally and emotionally, mentally. I just lay back in my seat, that exhaustion overtake me. When I woke again,

it was broad daylight outside. My body still ached, and I knew with my hand I wouldn't be able to drive. When I tried to use my phone, it wouldn't turn on. Looking around, though, I found that Larry had left his phone in the SUV. Another stroke of luck found me when I saw that from where I was, I actually had service and was able to call for help. It was about an hour and a half that I just sat in the SUV before an ambulance was able to arrive. From that point to now, only a few days later, much of this is just history. I was, of course, taken to the hospital where I recovered. When asked what happened, I just said that I fell while hiking in the mountains. I didn't try telling the doctors, or anyone else for that matter, about the cave or Larry's.

Oh, why bother? It's not like they could even find it, much less help. He also feigned ignorance when trying to figure out what was causing me to feel weak all the time, drained. I was finally discharged a few hours later, where I then returned home. The whole way, all I could do was think about everything that had just happened. What was in the cave? I mean, I know it was darkness, sure, but how was it so alive? This led me to finally break my little unspoken rule I talked about earlier. and asked the one person who'd actually be able to possibly give me some proper answers. Dad.

It was yesterday morning that I decided to pay him and Mara a visit. They, of course, were ecstatic that I was in town, and I told them that I was glad to see them. For a while I sat and just talked with the both of them, until Ma said she, regrettably, had to leave to play bingo with her friends. After she left, that was when I finally decided to ask Dad. Like he would back when I was little, his face dropped abruptly into that trademark look of stoicism. Dad, I pushed.

Where did you hear about that story from? Who told it to you? He just stared coldly at me. Oh, what he told me, son? He replied in a grave tone. I didn't hear it either. I saw him shudder. He didn't say anything else after that.

Obviously I wanted to push him, but I could tell I'd already spoiled the cheer from earlier. As it turned out, though, he wouldn't need to say anything more anyway. As I apologized and I was about to leave, Dad stopped me and thrust something into my chest. Well, if you really want to know the truth, he said, this'll tell you all you need to know about little Johnny's cave. He then turned and walked away while I did the same, tucking it away in my pocket. It was when I returned back to the dorm that I looked at what he'd given me. It was an old photo of two little boys in what looked to be the woods. With one of the boys presumably being him, judging by how familiar he looked,

the other one was someone I didn't recognize at all. There were closer looks at my head spinning. I realized that these weren't just any two boys. They were the ones pictured in the articles online. I also recognized the woods to be the ones. the clearing from Grenview Pines where we'd found the cave. The boy standing next to Dad had a circle drawn around him in red, and under it were the words,

I haven't forgotten you, Colin. John, that's when it all clicked. That's when I finally understood, after all these years and after what had happened to me, why Dad was always so scared of that story. I understood just how real it finally was. He was little Johnny. He lost his busy. best friend, a brother to the darkness of the cave, just like I had lost Larry. Because of this,

even though he made it out in the end, there was, and always would be, a part of him that's trapped there, surrounded and being ripped apart by the darkness, still trying to find its way out again. And now the same's true for me. I'm going to end this by saying that there is a reason to fear the dark. It's a mysterious thing, capable of feats evidently still not yet known as well as this it's hungry unless you run to the light it will take you and devour you the way it did my friend and almost did with me i don't know if larry could still be alive i doubted of course but a part of me still wants to hope that he's in there still running to find the way out and sometimes i think i even hear it his footsteps still

trying to get out. I was ever so excited. Mom had finally agreed to letting my older sister, Judy, and I stay the summer at my grandfather's house in Plague Mine Parish, Louisiana. Mom was a native of London and had met my father when she'd visited New Orleans, one Mardi Gras. They'd fallen madly in love and were married six months later. After a few years, Mom had come to detest New Orleans. The crime, the summer's relentless heat, the decadent sand, she said, the evil, it all proved too much for her, and she persuaded my father to return to England with her when I was but a baby. Judy was two years my senior, and she said she could remember our grandfather, but I doubted her. I really couldn't have asked for a better older sister.

Judy was pretty and kind, and she usually included me in her activities. Most of her friends weren't thrilled to have a younger brother tag along, but Judy just smiled and told them it was a two-for-one deal. she certainly wasn't as excited as I at the prospect of our upcoming adventure possibly because she'd just discovered boys and we weren't at all certain there were any kids our age around grandfather's place and we dared not ask mum we reckoned she might become suspicious or worried especially as far as Judy was concerned and we didn't want to take a chance of her canceling our summer plans she was hesitant enough as it was insisting upon making the flight down with us from Heathrow to New Orleans. She rented a car at New Orleans airport and we drove another two

hours of grandfather's little house way past the city toward the Gulf of Mexico. We marvelled at the big oak trees that dripped with gray, beard-like hangings which we later learned were called Spanish moss. The air was heavy with moisture. I could almost taste it. I was more than a little intrigued with this new world in its green and gray landscape which became more surreal with each passing mile. I was more than excited than I'd ever been in my entire 12 years of life. I was more excited than I'd ever been in my entire 12 years of life. I wish I could go back to that time. I wish that summer had never happened. I wish, I wish. Mom, Judy and I arrived at Grandfather's little house late one evening, so we couldn't tell much

about our surroundings. The house was more of a shack, unpainted, rising high off the ground on stilks to keep the floodwaters out. I vaguely wondered what might be living in the dark under the little house. Didn't want to think about it. We'd travel for ten hours straight, we were exhausted, so after hugging grandfather and having a snack, Judy and I clasped into our bunk beds in the room we would share for the next two months. We could hear mum and grandfather's muffled voices as we drifted off to a chorus.

of chirping crickets outside our screened window, so far above the ground. One would stay for a few days while we settled in, probably in the hopes that one, or both of us, would change our minds about our summer in Louisiana. She drove into town, which consisted of a grocery store on one end of the highway, and a hardware store on the other, where she bought a ridiculous amount of food, lest due to or I starve out in the swamp. Neither of us complained, as we'd heard the stories about people in southern Louisiana, eating, mostly possums, squirrels and rabbits,

supplemented with perhaps the occasional snake or alligator. Mum would regale us with these stories of Louisiana, the details largely depending on how much wine she consumed with dinner. Our father, when he was alive, could put on his Cajun accent and say, well, yeah, damn some good eating. And pretend he'd never had a pizza or a hamburger until he'd left Bayou Boudreau to go to college.

Now, as we drove down the road to Pluckumine Parish, through the swampy pasture land toward grandpas, as grandfather had asked we call him, we weren't so sure that mum and dad had exaggerated in their drunken descriptions of his childhood fare. I would have bet anything that there were at least a dozen snakes in the ditches along the side of the road, and probably an alligator or two lurking in the palmetto plants just beyond. I began to have misgivings, but I was a 12-year-old boy, and I wasn't about to chicken out. I'd never admit to being frightened of anything, at least not then. A few days later, Mom headed back to London,

holding back her tears and turning quickly to enter the little rental car. Judy and I waved goodbye from the front porch, promising to call home every day before noon, so she could sleep well that night. We laughed at Mum's demand, but we both promised. Grandpa waved a huge, gnarled hand toward the departing car, and herded us into the kitchen where he sat us at the blue formica table and poured us each a giant cup of coffee milk. He sat down opposite us with his big cup of coffee and chicory and began to lay down the rules of the house.

Well, but yeah, these ain't really rules. They're just things to make it easy for us to all get along, right. I've been on my own since your grandma died, so I'm setting my way, you know. Grandpa said in his matter-of-fact way. Grandpa had what Mom called a Cajun accent, and he was said to be one of the last true Cajuns down in southeast Louisiana. He could speak that Cajun language and even play Zylico music on his hand accordion. He was a soft-spoken giant of a man, but when he got that look in his eye, we knew he meant business. Oh, Cher, I'm going to cook around here. I'll tell you now, I'm a goodin, yes, I am.

I'll be making you some good breakfast. and some better supper, but around noontime, you better grab yourself some bread and make yourself or something, because I'll likely be sleeping over there in my bedroom to keep that arthritis from getting to my joints too bad. And he added as an afterthought. You're responsible for those dishes too, because that arthritis be killing my joints by nighttime. We got a deal? Oh yes, grandfather. I mean, grandpa, we got a deal. Judy and I both said together. Now, There'll be one more thing, children. It's the most important thing.

That's why I saved it for last. Grandpa had that no fooling around, look in his eyes. He lowered his voice, and we leaned in. Now, you need to be telling me exactly where you're going when you leave this house. You hear. And you need to tell me the truth. I don't want to hear neither you children going past the line of the highway, because the swamp is right on the other side.

There's things in that swamp. His voice trailed off as he realized he was probably scaring the bejesus out of us. We thought the lecture was over, but he gave us that look and continued. And his things in that swamp, you ain't never seen and you don't want to see. You understand your grandpa? You mean snakes and alligators, grandpa? I asked, wanting him to be impressed by the fact that I'd done my research on the Louisiana swamps. Oh, I wish that was all.

was for me to be wanting you about. Grandpa answered, and then repeat it. I'll just keep around here. Do not go past the tree line with them pomeadow palms, ever. Judy grimaced behind Grandpa, and I stifled a smile. Now, finish that coffee milk, and we're going to have ourselves some good old Cajun music out on the front porch. Grandpa said as he grabbed his little hand, according.

He gave me a washboard and a brush and gave Judy the big wooden spoon that would serve as a microphone and have ourselves some genuine Cajian music. Yes, sir, we did. Our word, apparently travelled fast around Bayou Boudreau, because the day after mum left, a boy I thought to be a year or too older than I, and probably around Judy's age, showed up at Grandpa's house, asking him if he needed any work done or maybe the lawnmowed. As was the custom, Grandpa called the boy up onto the front porch to have a seat and discuss the possibility of some sort of employment. It was plight to sit for a while and have a glass of lemonade or iced tea. Judy and I warmed our way out onto the porch in hopes that this boy was friend material.

As it turned out, after about 15 minutes of interrogation, Grandpa discovered that the boy was the son of Calvin James, a neighbor who lived just about two miles down the road, towards Fontenow's landing, just at the edge of the black swamp. Just like that, we had a friend. We had a friend. I think Judy and Eli were more than friends, and the energy they exuded when they were together was not lost on Grandpa or me. I swear, when Judy and Eli were less than two feet apart, I didn't dare get anywhere near them for fear of being shocked by the electricity. It was soon after meeting Eli that I began to usher in my thoughts with, I swear, I'd heard this habit of speech from both Eli and Grandpa, so I thought it was only proper for me to incorporate it into my speech as well. It was something mum would try to break me out of when I returned to London,

but I've retained that particular quirk of speech to this very day. I thought Eli was just about the coolest guy I'd ever met. It soon became evident that Judy thought the same. He was everything I wanted to be when I became 14 years old. Tall, strong, a mane of jet black hair he brushed absently from his forehead. He knew all about sports, but on the other hand, he could play a scene from a Shakespeare play with the authenticity of a seasoned actor. He had the slightest of southern drawers which endeared him to my sister, and when we weren't fortunate enough to be in his company, we spoke incessantly about our new friend.

I don't know which one of us had more of a crush on him. I swear I don't. Eli had a part-time job at the hardware store, a couple of evenings a week, which was probably a good thing, because he was at our house more often than his own, as Grandpa had uttered under his breath one afternoon after Eli finally left. I think Grandpa liked Eli. we took his responsibility for me and Judy with a solemn sincerity which I thought was just something all Grandfathers did I would find that there was a reason he watched over us like an old mother hen wanting to know where we were when we'd be back and how exactly we were getting home now within the week Judy and I considered the little cab in our home as well we felt a sense of belonging the London flat had never offered us although we'd lived there our entire lives Grandfathers too bedroom wooden shack, as mother called it, felt like a place that had called to me, the place I

should be. While it was true that Grandpa's persistent watchful eye could become irksome at times, those were the only moments Judy and I felt a bit stifled. One afternoon, Eli suggested we all go swimming down on Big Boudreau Bayou. The Louisiana summer temperatures had risen well into the 90s, and Grandpa didn't believe in air condition as so, needless to say, Judy and I were thrilled with the prospect of a cool dip into the dark waters of the bayou. We hurried in to change. We'd only seen the bayou in passing when Grandpa had taken us there during one of our orientation walks.

He'd sternly admonished us to never go down there alone, but we reckoned we wouldn't be alone if we were there with Eli, so we blithely yelled to our keeper, we were going swimming out on the bayou with Eli. We could hear his heavy footsteps echoing through the house and banging onto the front porch just as we were closing the yard gate. Say what, chair? He asked with an incredulous look on his big, kind face. You darn lost both your minds.

You get yourself back in here right now. Eli, you get in here too. Well, no amount of protests could shake the scowl off Grandpa's wisoned face. Judy and I knew something was wrong. We'd crossed an invisible line and we hushed out whining and sat on the swing and wait. We hadn't long to wait. Grandpa sat in his wooden rocker and held tightly onto its arms,

worn from years of fingers caressing the woods. I'm going to tell your children something. He said solemnly. You don't need to go tell your mama anything because it would just upset her, but I'm going to tell you two. Eli here probably done heard all about this. He looked from Judy to me, and then Eli. We all stared at him intently.

There's a reason I don't want you going to know Big Boudreau Bayou, even with Eli here going with you. It was a real bad thing that happened down there about 12 years ago. Ain't nobody don't forgot it yet. I only then saw the bottle of wild turkey sitting by Grandpa's rocking chair. He reached for it and took a good, long drink of the brown liquid. Grimmised and began to speak. There was his family, Frank Ardwan, and him. One time they living up on the bluff over the big bayou.

Them kids was all in that bayou most every day, especially during the summertime when it was so hot, like it is now. Nobody done thought nothing of it. Daddy was always with him. One day, Daddy's brother don't come up from Baton Rouge and brought his kids with him, so they all down at that bayou swimming and diving and floating on them innertudes. And that oldest buyer, Franks,

He don't run down, decided that by you to dive off a little bit higher ground. I reckon he was showing off. He's yelling at his daddy to watch him, do his dive, and dragging his brother were looking right at him when he jumped off. Head first, right into a big old nest of water moccas and snakes. He was dead and gone by the time they got him over to the hospital. What nothing they could do for that boy. It was all black and swollen up.

Didn't even look like no human being. Grandpa continued. Yeah, so that big bayou, that's a dark place, bad place. It was bad before, and people always said it was cursed when the white settlers don't killed all them Indians who lived the long and through the years. Things like that poor boy getting ate up by snakes happen every now and again.

I thought I was going to lose my lunch, and I could tell by Judy's face that she was about to cry. Well, that little story took the story. wind out of our sails and Eli and I ended up sitting on the front porch while Judy made some cold lemonade for us. We three sat in silence and I guess Grandpa felt kind of bad because he went and got his old guitar in a bag of prelions to sugar us up good. Nobody felt much like playing music so Grandpa went solo, just strumming some nice, soothing chords that faded away into the hot, sultry air. Eli's voice was soft but insistent when he said, Mr. Alice,

Can you tell us that other story? What you're talking about, Elon? You know, that other story about those pig things that live back in the swamp. Oh, you mean damn pig people. Grandpa raised his thick, gray brows. Yes, sir, Eli almost whispered. My pa, he won't say nothing. And I mean nothing about them.

When I ask anything, he gets real mad. Well, I hope we ain't speaking out of turn, then, boy. I need to know, Eli responded. Don't you think we all need to know since we're living right here next to the swamp? Grandpa apparently reckoned Eli had a point, and said he'd be mean to get around to telling us the story. I guess he decided then was as good a time as any to tell us about the things in the swamp. Well, I'm going to start at the beginning, the beginning meaning way back. when I was just a boy, not much older than you all.

There was his family living around here. Let's just say that his last name was René. They done had this boy that weren't right in the head. Oh, he was a big old boy, but they say he had the mind of a three-year-old child. And the René's, they kept a bunch of farming animals, and they fished and they butchered and they got along okay, I reckon. Well, the story goes that this boy, believe his name was Ray. Ray ended up getting real sick when he was just about your age and they took him up to the big hospital right close to New Orleans to see what was the matter with him. Now, you don't know that this here place is one for gossip. I don't take much to get a story going.

Well, it weren't no different back then when I was a boy. The men folks and the women folks didn't have no television. Gossip in was the town's main entertainment, so I ain't saying for sure if it was true or not. You understand? Grandpa took a swig from the wild turkey bottle. He swallowed, grimaced again, and continued. Now, the story was that Ray had done found itself, one of them old sows in the back pen at that their house.

Grandpa began to falter a little and turned a bit red. I reckon it weren't his father. He was coming to be a man, and he didn't know no better. He weren't all there in the head, you know. Well, that boy, he done been with one of themselves, you know, barb away, like a man and woman when they be married. Grandpa continued quickly, and I guess he done got some disease from sinning like that, because Mrs. Riley, who worked up at the hospital, done told Mrs. Willis about seeing Ray at the doctors with his daddy. Oh, Lordy, the gossip in this here town was something awful.

I thought it weren't ever going to die down. Preacher done preached about gossiping, but that only made it worse. And one day out of the blue, somebody killed the entire Ducet family, and that story took over. Ray and the big story don't wore itself out, except for the parents telling their children to stay away from that Ray Renee boy. So, as the years passed by, eventually nobody thought much about it.

That is until 10, 15 years later, when some folks saw something in the swamp. Grandpa took another swig. Alfei Wilson was out in his little pierrog with his wife. Pretty little thing I remember. Goteo was fishing in sudden lines. The way Alfay tells it. Ten-foot alligator came straight at him and tipped over that little piero.

Alfei hit his head pretty hard on something. Maybe a cypress stump, maybe the boat. He was stunned, that's the way he put it. He sees something that looked like another pierrog, but it wasn't nothing he'd ever seen before. He saw this man thing in the funny-looking boat. That man thing done grabbed Allie and pulled her in, her legs dangling over the side.

The sheriff was not sympathetic. A man takes his wife out to the swamp and only he returns. That was downright fishy to him. The whole damn story was fishy, but it was so crazy it might just be the truth. It was just one man in the other. the one that took Ali. The sheriff asked for the fifth time. And I had that boy up in an old blanket, give him some coffee, and just start asking questions. He was most likely in shock, but he ain't nobody back then know what shock was. Grandpa said. It weren't no man. Al Fay

answered low and deliberately. It weren't no man. Oh, what the hell was it? The sheriff showed no mercy for his primary murder suspect. It was a big pig in that boat. It was a damn pig, but he stood up on his back legs and used his front legs or arms or whatever the hell they were to grab Allie. He made this sound, and it sounded like a man trying to sound like a pig squealing. He had a face that was kind of like a man, but he had pig ears and a pig stout, and he squealed and squealed, and Hallie was screaming, and I couldn't get to her.

Alfei broke He showed aside and his body shook from heavy songs That boy cried non-stop for over an hour And they finally had to get him to hospital So the doctor could help him I reckon he had a nervous breakdown They never charged him And they closed the case as an accident

Likely drowning of Miss Alley Grandpa continued We dared not interrupt him with questions I would got around like it always did I reckon that old dumb deputy They opened his dang mouth Trying to impress some girls down at the club I don't know for sure

But ten or twelve of them dumb ass boys Decided they go hunting this pig man Maybe put him in a side show And make a bunch of money That's what they told their dazis I guess that sounded pretty good Because about eight or ten of that daddies Decided to join him

I remember They had a dang navy of about eight boats All sizes leaving the landing, heading straight into the Black Swamp. Yeah, out there you go, dumbasses. Grandpa snorted. Around dark, they all come stumbling back in, full of stories, more likely full of whiskey and beer.

They say they saw two of them, covered with mud and straw, so the story in the legend started right off then and there, the pig people, the Black Swamp. Alpha got itself almost famous, and they even took him over there, and the new world. Wollins to interview him on one of them local TV shows. Every time he made a description of that thing he saw, it got more and more crazy. The time he was done and the story died down.

Damn thing got hold of Allie still more than nine feet tall, all covered in black mud with red eyes and a big old pig snout instead of a nose. It was like Alfa had done forgot about his little wife, Miss Alley. Then one day the host of the show Dun lowered her voice and asked Alfa a real serious like if he thought his wife was dead and Alfa said, real sad like. I just hope she drowned. All right, that's enough for today.

You children's going to have bad dreams. I'll tell you the rest another time. It's almost dark and Eli needs to be getting himself home. Grandpa didn't have to tell Eli twice. He looked at Judy and said he'd see us tomorrow and he hightailed it down the road to his house. Grandpa said he didn't feel like cooking nothing, So we had some grits for dinner, and nobody said it words.

Grandpa went to his room, leaving us to clean up. You think that's true? What Grandpa told us? I asked Judy. I don't know, she said, and I'm not looking to find out. Well, the next day Eli came by, and we could talk of nothing but the pig people. After a supper of fried chicken, buttery mashed potatoes and limer beans, we beg Grandpa to tell us the rest of the story.

As Eli said, we needed to know, didn't we? Oh, well, where was I? Grandpa asked. You were at the part where Alfa had became famous, but his wife has never heard from again, and the last he saw her was the pig man grabbing her and throwing her in the boat. Eli answered quickly. There's been stories for years now, but the fact is, there have been more than a few of what they call, unexplained disappearances around here. Probably more than our share.

I thought I was a serial killer. Like the one they found in Baton Rouge. Eli gently interrupted. Well, Eli, the thing is, that's exactly what they want you to think. They kept it real quiet. In case they don't want to panic, folks. Just a picture in the paper one day, and that'd be it. Maybe a search party for a day or two, but that black swamp, well,

she's so big I ain't going to find nobody if they don't want to be found or even if they do. I just don't know, do we. Grandpa glanced involuntarily at Judy and then said, It's mostly women that disappeared, you know. The story is that the pig man need women so they can carry on their kinds. One women only bears one child a year, so they need breeding women, and I guess they got their cravings just like most men. So that's why you see, till they stay, women always be walking in twos.

Not one woman will walk down this road alone, not even in daylight. No, sir, he. That's just stupid, I said, more from absolute fear than indignation. Oh, you'd think so, Grandpa agreed, till little Ivy Richard come walking out of the swamp one day, after she was gone for more than a year. She weren't but about 14, 15 years old, but the doctor said she'd done experienced childbirth.

Well, what did she say? I demanded it rather rudely. That's the thing, Sharon. She ain't never said a word. Her mind's done gone. They had to put her in that place in New Orleans for the crazy people, and to this day, she ain't never said a word. Well, she's probably just got lost and managed to live out there in the woods, and that's all, I said.

Yeah, that's a possibility, grandpa agreed. Him agreeing didn't make me feel any better. I was beginning to wonder what the hell I'd gotten myself into, coming to Louisiana. I was beginning to really miss London. So, that's it, I said nonchalantly. That's the story? You sure you want to hear the rest, Chair? Grandpa asked, seriously.

Yeah, of course, I said boldly. Well, we around here close to the swamp and damn fishermen and gator catchers, brave enough to venture out there now, began to smell something that weren't right. The first we thought it was each other, barbecue, and then we started asking around and ate nobody. None of us been barbecuing here in the wintertime. The other thing we noticed, well, it was all at the store a few years ago. Not long after that college student from New Orleans, Tulane, I believe he was from, dumb went missing.

But the swamp is a damn big place, and ain't too many a decent man happy to wander too far out there these days. So, sheriff called the search-off, we're sorry. all in the store drinking some coffee from the machine and speculating about what might have happened to that boy. Most agreed that the gators got him, but then, almost at the same time, he started sniffing something. Andrew was the first to ask, who the hell's barbecuing in this weather? It's so cold. I just looked at each other.

Must have been eight or nine of us there. You know, sometimes when you just don't need to say a word, when you pretty damn sure that other person know exactly what you're thinking. Well, we knew he was the only ones who lived down Sutter Road, and Sutter Road is the only road that goes to the boat landing in the swamp. So we go outside to get a better whiff, and we sure did. Smelled like a big old barbecue going on down towards our house here, or maybe Eli's place.

It weren't us, and we couldn't figure out who would be barbecuing in the swamps in the middle of the window. Then it hit us all about the same time. That boy was somebody's dinner tonight. I know that's what I thought. I bet on it that it's what they all thought, but nobody, ain't nobody ever said a word. Holy shit, I said. Holy shit. Grandpa gave me a look, but didn't reprimand me.

If the damn water moccasins don't get us, and the pig people will. I was serious. I was never leaving the front porch again. but what was to keep one of those snakes from coming in the screen door that didn't quite close? Or what was keeping those pig people from creeping up one night to our house and looking in the window? Holy shit. Judy and I whispered back and forth from our bunk beds that night. More to hear each other's voices than to really carry on a conversation.

The night was black, but the sky retaliated with a silver light of a million stars and a full moon. its beams shining into crevices of the forest into the nooks and corners of our bedroom. Silhouettes of pigs and monster faces played upon the wall. Judy tried to scare me when she said, Quiet, listen, do you hear that squealing? I think she ended up terrifying herself as much as she did me. It was a long night with only fitful bouts of sleep. I was rather glad of someone nearing its end.

It had been a splendid adventure until the story's about. the pigmen were shared and suddenly I didn't feel so brave about the great unknown I wanted it to stay unknown along for my familiar room and bed and posters of man you on the wall and I miss my mom Judy on the other hand was dreading the day she'd say goodbye to Eli I think she was in love for what her 14 year old girls are when they walk around all goofy-eyed and smiling as though they knew a special secret she was oblivious to anything but Eli. Eli this and he like that. I liked Eli but I'd had enough. Enough of young love, enough of water moccasins sliding around and enough of pigmen, kidnapping people and doing no

telling what with them. I couldn't think about it. Not a day later, Grandpa made a point of telling us to be sure that we put the lid on the garbage cans real tight because some animals have been making the rounds and going through people's garbage, making a real mess. Early said it nonchalantly, but I thought I saw something like worry in his furrowed brow. I lay awake most nights now. Thankful we were up at least eight feet off the ground due to the heavy stilts that raised the house and formed its structure. I could look out at the night and feel safe, above it all snug in my bed.

And then I saw it. It emerged from the palmetto grove, walking like a man but with a face that still haunts me. The first thing I noticed was a snout. a pig snout and what I think was a mouth below it the mouth was a single large slit huge pink ears flapped on each side of its head and the eyes were black and beady I thought I must be dreaming but the pig man headed straight across the backyard

and turned over the garbage can in an instant he rummished around and grabbed a few things food I guess then he looked up at me and smiled He turned and loped across the yard with great speed And suddenly, as quickly as he'd appeared, he was gone A knife-shot palmetto fronds waved in his wake I couldn't move I couldn't scream No one would believe me

If I woke grandpa and told him he might think I lost my mind And keep me inside where he could watch me until mom would come for me I decided I would tell no one But now I tell you I know you won't think me insane But summer rains had come And the air was so heavy That inevitably around one or two in the afternoon

The rains would come It was a warm rain and didn't really cool the air It only made you feel sticky Hadn't been feeling well I wanted to go home Mom was set to come and collect us next week It was only two nights later And I saw the creature again

He stood beside my bunk bed And looked at me with curiosity but soon he turned to his real interest. Julie lay on the bottom bed, clad only in a pink and white cotton gown. A strawberry blonde hair was spread across the pillow when her eyes were closed. One huge arm encircled her waist

and poured her out to him. He grunted, buried his snout into her hair and sniffed. I couldn't move. Then he turned and, as he was leaving, Grandpa stepped into his pathway holding a baseball bat in one hand and his 45 in the other. The pig man pushed Grandpa away

as if he were a pesky mosquito, grabbing the 45 in the process. Duty screamed, looking at me, begging me to save her. I jumped from my bunk and screamed at the thing to stop, to drop her that she was my sister. He kicked me so hard I thought my head had come off.

I was completely knocked unconscious. When I awoke, the thing was gone. Judy was gone. Just like that. My big sister was gone and God knows what was going to happen to her now. I attended to Grandpa as best I could and phone 911 for the Sheriff. At least Grandpa would be able to bat me up in my horrible story. The Sheriff soon appeared, rampled with sleep and began asking questions of me and Grandpa.

I didn't hear him make any calls and it was already 5 a.m. Time was of the essence. When he asked what would be done, he just said, Leave it up to us, man, son. We've seen this kind of thing before. We'll go out of ways and try to find her. Best you stay here and take care of your grandpa. He had a bad fall.

Y'all both are to get to the hospital. We refused to go anywhere, and I got another cold towel for grandpa. We managed to get him up and into his chair. The doctor came. He gave us both sedatives, and I could finally think somewhat clearly without the horror. In a way, my lucid thoughts were even worse. I had failed my sister. I'd let her go.

I'd done nothing to help her. My only solace was, I didn't think they wanted to eat, Judy. I thought they wanted her for breeding. Well, I had no idea how that would happen. If it was one pig man or another or all of them. They were grabbing females and were obviously becoming more brazen about it. Miss Ali had been there first. She became pregnant and bore the first.

first child for the pig man. She cared for the infant as would any mother with love and tenderness. The good and kind woman that she was, she tried to teach the child and its father some words so they could communicate and she showed her mate how to cook with fire and garner pieces of wood that they could carve into pots and bowls. She wore hats and shoes for them. She made them a home. The day Ali had been captured, she'd been terrified. She slowly realized that she slowly realized that this pig man meant her no harm, and realized that the poor, disfigured creature must have been the product of the Ray incident so many years ago. She had no idea how this could have happened, but the undeniable result stood above her now, his hoof-like hands on her shoulders.

She had nodded toward a corner in the straw and root cave they would shed. Then he was gone. She lay sobbing in the cool den. The creature returned, having garnered the soft his leaves and pine straw he could find. She fell into the straw, terrified. He lay on the other end of the burrow, and soon she could hear his snoring. She slept. Now, Judy was merely one of the missing women. Missing, I would say that incredulously.

She was kidnapped. She was taken. She was stolen from our bed. No one listened to me. The news only said a 14-year-old girl from Boudreau's bayou had gone missing. Now for three days. I'd almost gone crazy. Perhaps I did.

I cried and begged for a boat so I could go look for her. No one would lend me their boat, let alone go with me to look for my sister. Eli had the same problem. It was as though everyone just wanted to forget about it. These damn English people coming down here and cause in trouble. That's what I overheard one day at the grocery store. Well, I was speechless. At least I ain't smelled nothing.

"'Cuckin,' one of them said, "'not knowing I was standing behind him.' "'Grandfather called mum and closed his eyes tight "'while she screamed and cried into the phone. "'She was taking the next flight. "'I hope she was able to drive. "'She arrived, and I guess the hysteria "'it subsided into anxiety and fear.

"'She simply wanted her, little girl. "'The so-called search continued for a week. "'The sheriff said that's all the department had money for. one went out in one of the sheriff's boats a few times while i cried and begged to go and to the sheriff's dismay i was allowed to join the search party on the last day we saw nothing but snakes and alligators a few a while born bevies of snow-white eagrots had the swamp not held such terror for me such foreboding i think i would have found it beautiful in a mysterious grey sort of way and i knew i could feel it judy was out there somewhere And no one would ever find her. Mom and I finally returned to London. She left Judy's clothes hanging in the closet of our little room. She put fresh sheets on the bottom bunk and placed her diary under the pillow.

Mom gave Eli one of Judy's favourite necklaces and put the other one around her own neck. She never took it off. Every night, I think that I should have done something. I should have jumped on the back of that pig thing and bit in his ear. off, I should have screamed, I should have fought for my sister. Grandfather died later that fall. I think he died from stress and to broken hearts. Mum refuses to sell the land or the house.

She says it should be exactly as it was that summer. Just in case Judy should ever find her way home. I'm a photographer specialising in remote wilderness expeditions. I think this is my last job. I don't like people much. Never have. My whole life I've gravitated to being alone, outside in nature. I told my kindergarten teacher I wanted to be an animal tracker. Kind of pictured it as a Steve Irwin thing. Back before Steve Irwin was a thing.

Anyway, I'm getting off track. I get paid to do it now. All sorts of property owners want to know what types of animals exist out in the middle of nowhere, usually because they want to build something and want to make sure they're not going to get in trouble for killing a bunch of endangered animals. I'll get dropped somewhere with all my supplies that I can carry. Trail cameras, sometimes even a small drone. If I'm lucky I can get paid for a job

and also get some photos that I can sell to a nature magazine. It's a pretty good gig, honestly, and it suits me well. This one was weird from the jump. Way outside my normal area. and they demanded absolute secrecy. I had to carry a sat phone that they provided that was designed to only connect with them and no other communications gear.

I put that thing through the ringer before I agreed to it, but it was a solid piece of gear. Also had to give them a chance to review all pictures before deciding which ones I could keep. Something about evidence of minimal deposits. Whatever, the pay was five times what I normally got. They were very clear, I couldn't even tell anyone who'd hired me, which I guess doesn't matter now.

Aspectu, you call. Who knows if that was real? I couldn't find anything when I googled them. But when you get paid 50% up front in cash, being able to Google a company doesn't matter as much. I worked out my planned route with a lot of input from my client. I get flown via a helicopter to a clearing. I work my way up a game trail nearby around a lake. leaving some trail cameras, and then I'd work my way north along a river until I reached another clearing,

where they'd drop some additional food for me and take copies of my photo so far. Finally, I'd worked my way back south to the original clearing, checking the trail cameras on the way, and they'd pick me up there. Three weeks, with a big check for the rest of the payment at the end. Well, they were big on planning for emergency too. Said if anything happened, I should get to the closest of the two clearings and call for help. whatever happens though i wasn't to cross a stream to the south of a clearing that i'd be dropped in the stream for whatever reason was a boundary i was not to pass under any circumstances whatever not a huge deal this company was paying enough to set some weird rules travel was a breeze i got picked up right on schedule black car to a private jet to a helicopter pad on the edge of the world nothing below me but green as far as the i could be able to be able to green as far as the i could see, carved through with rivers and lakes. Nothing man-made, not a single road I could see anywhere.

The pilot looked like an ex-military guy, with a lean build, short haircut and a company polo. He had a little rocker on the sleeve that said, Nick Divinos. I asked him what it meant. He brushed me off. Fine. I don't like small talk either. Getting dropped off here was a sensation I'll never forget. I'm used to being alone in the middle. of the woods, but this place unsettled me. I felt like I was being watched and the second my feet hit the ground, unseen eyes dotting the dark forest surrounding me.

I choked down the unease creeping up my throat and got to work. I'm a professional in the feeling faded quickly enough. I was alone in the world, the most comfortable place for me to be, no sound but the birds in the trees and the leaves crunching under my feet. I started my first hike.

Up around the lake, dropped off three trail camps. Worked my way up and around. The place buzzed with life. I got a ton of photos. Slept each night in my tent. Felt great. It was a second night when I realized something was off. I woke up to a start, realizing my fire had gone out.

It took me a second to realize what had really woken me, the sense that I wasn't alone. I've honed this over time. It's always good to recognize the feeling when a predator had entered your space to figure out if you were lunch or not. Some lizard brain stuff that Evillusion gave us, and modern life tries every day to dull. I took out my flashlight and peaked out of the tent. I could vaguely see a shape about 20 feet from my tent in the moonlight. They opened the tent and flicked the flashlight on and immediately dropped it from the shop.

The flashlight rolled off my foot. foot and I lunch for it, grabbing it and aiming it back at the woods that were now empty. In that moment, though, where the light hit it, I knew what I'd seen. A man dressed all in black robes. I paced around my tent scanning the woods, but he was nowhere to be seen. How would someone gotten out here? In the middle of nowhere, no electricity, no roads. hell I'd been flown in via helicopter

Who the hell could sneak up on me And then vanish like this I didn't see any further side of my nightmare visitor As I circled back for the trail cams And started out the river I downloaded the photos I got in with them And flipped through them one night Quickly so I could keep my battery from running down

A lot of deer and some elk The back end of what might have been a wolf I paused on one though and the picture was blurry but almost looked like a man. At least the top did. The bottom half looked like an elk. I tried to sharpen the picture, but it didn't work. Decided not to use that camera again in case it was malfunctioning.

Still the picture had unsettled me in a way I couldn't quite put a finger on. I picked my way up the river, feeling more uncomfortable the further north I got. The abundant wildlife had faded. to nothing. I didn't even see birds here. It seemed like a completely lifeless wilderness, and that scared me. It was the second day when I saw him again. I'd rounded a bend and saw him at the far boundary of the woods ahead. He was facing me, and seemed to wait until he was sure I'd seen him before stepping back into the trees. I managed to snap a quick photo at a distance before he vanished. The hike north was slow.

I took photos to show I was doing something, though. I didn't see any sign of life. I still dropped the trail cameras, though, just in case. Every night I briefly turned on my computer to look at the blurry photo from the lake, staring at it as if it would make sense. The nights were unsettling. I saw strange lights in the sky that didn't match any meteors or northern lights I'd ever seen before. I tried not to look at them after realizing one night that what I thought was.

thought had been 15 minutes staring into the heavens had taken up three hours of time. Something was staring back. I don't know why I just said that, but it feels true. My dreams turned dark. I had nightmares for the first time in years where I was running through the woods, chased only by the thunderous sound of hooves that were everywhere and nowhere. The day before my arrival at the second clearing, I decided to try out the drone to see if I could get any good footage.

I sent it up the river around a bend and brought it back, stowing it so I could look at the footage later. I continued to hike up to my planned resting spots when I saw them on a ridge above me. Three men all dressed in identical black robes. I snapped a photo and I didn't seem to care. They watched me until I was out of sight. That night I downloaded the drone video and watched it

I was halfway through some beautiful but lifeless footage when I noticed some movement In the woods was some sort of thing I couldn't make sense of It had the lower body of an elk but the torso and head of a man With antlers atop its head I watched as it gracefully ran from the noise of the drone And then veered deeper into the woods There's something

very wrong with this place. I sat watching the video and realised I had to make a decision. I could turn this over to my employer, say I was sick and needed to get out, even if I forfeited the money for the job. Or I could take the new supplies and head south, get the cameras I'd left, try to figure out what is happening here. Sitting alone in my tent, thinking about the mysterious company that had brought me to this place, I realized I had to know more about what was happening. I took the memory card I'd prepared to hand off with the photos I'd taken so far and moved the photos of anything unusual to my laptop. I left at dawn,

hiking to the clearing where I'd be resupplied. Half an hour before my arrival, the helicopter roared past overhead, and when I made it, he was already on the ground. I swapped out the batteries and supplies, handing him the memory card to take back. "'How's it been going?' "'His voice was gruff and unconcerned. "'His flat effect, that of a man, "'who felt he had to make some sort of small talk, "'but really wasn't concerned with whether or not I responded.

"'Fine. "'Not much in the way of wildlife here,' I responded. "'I hesitated, and my voice caught as I decided to push the issue. "'He does anyone live up here?' "'He raised an eyebrow out of the question, "'stopped what he was doing to look at. look at me. Why do you ask? I tried, perhaps unsuccessfully, to adopt an air of nonchalance. Oh, reason, though I thought I saw someone the other day, but it seemed crazy. Sometimes your

eyes played tricks on you when you're alone, you know. He considered this for a moment and nodded. Sure, no one's up here. They wouldn't survive the winters, and you won't either if you don't get a move on. He nodded back towards the river, an indication that the conversation was over. I grabbed my headgear as he got ready to depart. When I was ready, I turned to him. I'm going to get moving. I don't want to lose the light. He held up the memory card I'd handed him. This is everything. Boss is a particular about this stuff. We locked eyes and I nodded. He nodded back. Good. Stay safe out there. Walking south felt different. The feeling of unease in the back of my mind grew into a dread in my throat. I couldn't explain it, but I picked up my pace. Even as I collected

the trail cameras, I didn't check the photos. For some reason, I was terrified at what I'd see. My sightings of the mysterious black robe men increased. Every time I rounded a bend, there'd be one ahead of me. Every time I made the mistake of looking back, there'd be one in the distance watching me. I hiked with my head down, exhausting myself each day before settling in for a night of horrors in my dreams. I saw giant eyes in the woods watching me. I heard a buzzing sound that grew louder until I couldn't think or move. In one dream I was tied to a tree, surrounded by the black-robed individuals. They just stared at me. They were waiting for something. They were waiting for something. Still, the nightmares were better than being awake after dark. The night sky

blazed with strange lights that I didn't dare do more than glance at. It felt as if I'd tumbled off the earth into some alien world, so similar to our own, but one where every twig and leaf had been soaked in danger. The night before I was set to leave, I finally looked through the trail cameras. I organised the photos by camera and then started clicking through. The progress was easier than I imagined. There really was no life to photograph along the river. What I did see were the strange creatures had glimpsed from the drone footage. There was a pack, a herd of them.

As I stared at the dates, I realized they'd grown closer to me as I moved north on the river. They triggered the first camera three days after it was set up, but by the time they passed the last camera, they were arriving just hours after me. I paused, listened to the sounds of the night surrounding me, straining for a noise that would indicate I wasn't alone. But hearing nothing, the nights had grown colder, and the day started to follow suit. I could see my breath as I arrived at the clearing where this journey had begun.

I sat down and paked at my lunch while waiting for the helicopter to arrive. But it didn't. As night started to fall, I started to second-guess myself. Had I made better time on the return trip? Was I a day ahead of schedule? I checked the date on my computer screen and camera, and I misunderstood. I made my camp and decided to wait until the morning. By noon the next day there was still no sign of the helicopter,

and I powered on the satellite phone they provided. The helicopter pilot answered on the first ring, and I felt a relief so strong I couldn't help break the ice with the joke. Have you ever had one of those days where you're forgetting to do something but can't figure out what? I laughed as I said it. His pause was agonizing and in that moment my world crumbled. I'm not coming back out, man. I'm sorry.

My mind raced and the words tumbled out in a nervous stream. Stop messing around. When will you be here? His voice sounded for long. They know you didn't give them all the photos. The file names are number, dumbass. I swore under my breath. They won't let me come back out, but I wanted to be the one to tell you.

Anyway, good luck. If I were you, I'd off myself before those things got me. He terminated the call in my world, fell silent. All I could hear was my heartbeat pounding in my ears. I looked back and forth and really. what I had to do. They needed to come get me, and I could make them. I broke camp and headed in the one direction they told me not to go. Due, Sal. Across the stream that marked the boundary of where I was told in no uncertain terms not to cross. I paused on the far side of the stream, as if I

expected a team of armed guards to materialize. Nothing happened, and I continued south. I picked my way south for two days, trying to ration my food while looking for some sort of clues to what I should do next. On the second day I heard the buzzing noise from my nightmares, and it only got stronger the further south I went. The world seemed to vibrate around me, and I began hallucinating as the volume increased. I saw dead friends and family standing in the trees. Once I saw myself smiling and pointing into the distance. At first I thought the building was a hallucination too. I stepped into a clearing in the middle of nowhere and a squat.

Concrete structure stood before me. I couldn't imagine how it was constructed. There were no roads to speak of and it would have taken years to fly out all the materials needed by helicopter, not to mention the equipment and workers. I stepped into the clearing and walked towards the building. The leaves under my feet gave way to something hard, I looked down and I realized I was walking on blackened animal bones. As I got closer to the building, the bones gave way to blackened shells that shattered under my feet.

The large metal door stood on the front of the building, with words in a language I didn't recognize. I reached for the door and opened it, marveling at the lights inside and the warmth from the heat. I stepped in and closed the door, surprised again at how the buzzing vibration ceased. the second the door closed and locked behind me. The building was four rooms, a bunk room with six beds, a bathroom, a small kitchen, and a large office room with computers and TV screens. The computers were all running some sort of program I couldn't stop.

But I took a hot shower for the first time in weeks and washed my clothes in the sink before hanging them to dry. I laid in a warm bed for the first time in almost a month and drifted off into a thankfully dreamless sleep. I awoke and took stock of my situation. There were a few cans of food in the kitchen, and it had running water that tasted fine. I heated up some ravioli over the stove

while I considered what to do next. The decision was made for me, though, when I heard the satellite phone ringing from the next room. I picked it up and recognized the voice on the other end of the line as my mysterious client, who I hadn't spoken to since before my departure. I thought I was very clear to you, not to venture south of that stream. He began in a measured voice. You disobeyed me. I frowned.

Well, it apparently worked, didn't it? I got your attention. You have precisely 30 minutes to pack your items and depart. At that point, I will turn off the electricity to the compound. I would advise you to be on your way before that happens. Disabling the power that protects that place will create a vacuum, and you know that nature are born. them. What should I do then? I spat. You can give up. It will make everything much easier. I don't like loose hands. His voice dripped with ice. Thirty minutes starting now. I don't know why I believed him, but I did. I threw my supplies in my bag and sprinted for the door, moving quickly to put some space between myself and the mysterious building behind me.

I was moving through the trees when an ear-splitting scream pierced the woods. I don't know what made it, but it was as inhuman as sound as I'd ever heard. I looked at my watch. Exactly 30 minutes had passed. I continued south, barely sleeping as I jumped at every noise I heard. Night was no darker than day now. The sky was a kaleidoscope of lights and movement. I woke one morning to an individual.

black robes standing in front of my tent. They removed their hood, and I was faced with a rather normal-looking woman, not the frightening cultists I'd imagined in my head. Why did you come here? I stared at her, uncomprehending the question. She repeated it, slower. Why did you come here? I nodded and stammered out an answer. It's my job. I thought I was just photographing some wildlife. She nodded. Pack your equipment now.

Follow this ridge south. You'll find an old cabin ten miles beyond here. It isn't much, but it's dry. Stay there for two full days. On the morning of the third day, if you're safe, walk due east. You'll come to a river. We'll have left a boat there. Take it south. It will be easygoing.

There's an encampment three or four days downstream. I nodded but was no less confused. Who are you? She smiled in a sad sort of way. You have to leave now. I'm sorry that they did this to you. You were nothing but bait for them. We'll try to throw it off your trail.

I scrambled to break camp and move. It was right before dark when I arrived at the cabin. It was as advertised. The winters had been rough on it, but it was dry and removed me from the elements. Yesterday passed without incidents, and as the sun started to set today, I let myself get my hopes up for the first time. Maybe I could get out of it, maybe I would survive this. Dust could settle across the area when I saw it, standing and staring at the cabin. It must have been ten feet tall

With the antlers on its head But the man- elk creatures stood motionless watching me I looked around and saw another Then another They had surrounded the cabin That was hours ago And I've been struggling to type this since I haven't moved once in that time

But they're waiting for something I can hear the buzzing from my dreams again And now I realised that what I heard coming from that building was not the same sounds. It was artificial and synthetic. This noise is alive. It feels like it's coming from the earth itself. Something is coming.

I took apart the satellite phone the company gave me. I think I've managed to get a weak data connection on here. Might be enough to get this up on a text-only website. Tell people what happened to me. They've moved now. But they're still here. I can see them in the distance. Odd shadows cast off their anlers.

I hear something else too. Something unbelievably huge. It's here now. I can see it. It's... And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen.

Now, I'd ask one small favor of you, Wherever you get your podcast wrong, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.