Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S5 Ep252: Episode 252: Extremely Weird Horror Stories

Episode Date: June 21, 2025

Today’s first offering is ‘I Became an Atheist Because I've Conversed with God’, an original story by Bloody Spaghetti, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/BloodySpaghetti Tonight’s next terrifying tale of horror is the epic ‘I Once had a Demon take my Victorian English Class’, an original story by Black Friday’s Witch 13, kindly shared with me for the express purpose of having me narrate it here for you all.  https://www.reddit.com/user/blackfridayswitch13/ Today’s penultimate tale is the classic ‘The Cave Horror’, an old-school work by the wonderful Captain S. P. Meek, freely available in the public domain and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA 3.0 license. https://www.gutenberg.org/files/41481/41481-h/41481-h.htm#The_Cave_of_Horror Tonight’s final tale of terror is both parts of the bizarre and wonderful ‘Where the Caterpillars Die’, a fantastic  story by Michael Paige, kindly shared with me via my sub-reddit and narrated here for you all with the author’s express permission: https://michaelpaigeblog.wordpress.com/ https://www.reddit.com/r/DrCreepensVault/comments/lajwcs/where_the_caterpillars_die_part_1/

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BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's dungeon. Weirdness terrifies us because it disrupts our sense of normality, the fragile structure we rely on to navigate the world. And some of these just a little off, our brain scramble to make sense of it, and that unease quickly grows into fear. It's not always the monstrous that unsettles us, but almost familiar things made strange,

a smile that lingers too long, a shadow that moves where nothing should. Weirdness opens the door to the unknown, and it's in that ambiguity where I imagination conjures the most disturbing possibilities, as we shall see in tonight's collection of tales. Now as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight'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. The 27th of July 1901. It was confirmed by my doctor today.

My father is on his deathbed. It's odd to see a man I've spent my whole life imagining made of stone and iron being as soft as clay. When he received the news, I could see his hardened face sag, and I left the room despair in the embarrassment of having his son see him cry. His whole life, he's been strong, and our family is no stranger to misfortune, but not once did he express his grief so openly. Normally, a man like him would call for another doctor, but live. Living near Pinos Altos in New Mexico, we're lucky to have the one doctor that can reach our family house within a day. The next closest place to that will be Les Cruces, and that's over a day's right away. Besides, Dr. Murphy is a trusted friend and has proven his medical

prowess time and time again. My whole family trusts him, and it would be an insult to him if my father asked for a second opinion. Time passed after the news had been given. I was busy doing repairs on our barn. Our property goes right into a mountain, so sometimes rocks from high up tumbled down the hill and damage our property in animals. I just finished patching a hole that had been created in the roof when my younger sister, Abigail, came to me and told me my father wanted to talk. Normally, I would try to find an excuse to delay our conversation, but now that his death was certain, it didn't feel right to make him wait, so I immediately made my way to his bedroom. My father and I do not see eye to eye on many things. Though we operate a farm,

my father has mine as blood in him, while I have always had a thirst for knowledge and the drive to invent new things. I would not call myself weak, but in his prime father could carry £300 on his back and walk for miles. In short, I am the polar opposite of him, and I know in my heart that he believes that the real misfortune of the tragedies that befell my older brothers, God rest their souls, is that it happened to them and not to me. I entered my father's bedroom and took a seat on the chair next to his bed. Though he was proclaimed denying man, you couldn't see it yet. He sat up straight in bed. His face returned to its usual stony appearance. He was staring at the mantle over his fireplace, at the clump of unrefined gold ore that adorned the

shelves. He had told everyone that the awe had been passed to him from his father, and he planned to make it a family heirloom. When I sat down, he looked at me thoughtfully. I looked away on instinct, as whenever he glanced at me, his eyes were filled with scorn and judgment. When he didn't say anything, I dared to steal a glance at his face and saw soft eyes looking me up and down. After he was satisfied looking at me, He leaned over and opened a drawer by his bedside table. He took out a letter that looked like it had been written some time ago. It still remained sealed in the envelope. Son, I need you to take this letter to the Mescalero Reservation.

I know not their name, but tell the natives they are looking for the tribe that followed Mangas Colorado. Find their leader and give him this letter. If he needs you to read it to him, do so. If he needs a translator, find one and pay for their services. Whatever happens, he needs to know what is in this letter as soon as possible. You write out tonight. I was in shock as I left the room and began my preparations to travel. Father hated the natives at all his soul.

I didn't know much, but I did know that the land we owned used to belong to the Apaches. My grandfather had come here during the 1860s during the gold rush that happened in Pinos Altos Altos and had a very successful mine. It had been successful when he died and my father took over. But before I'd been born, the mining operation just stopped and we were forced to become farmers. When my father was drunk, he would sometimes let slip that he not only blamed the deaths of my two older brothers on the Apaches but the drying up of the mine as well.

Now, he suddenly had a letter that needed to be delivered post-haste to his sworn enemies. It was all very confusing. The 30th of July in 1901. It was a day's ride to the reservation. I'd started in the late afternoon on the 27th, rode into the night, camped out, and continued riding at first light. Luckily, I had no run-ins with anything to impede my journey. So I arrived late in the afternoon on the 28th. I could see the reservation on the horizon.

As I drew closer, I saw the sorry state that it was in. My father hates the native Indians, but I do not share his animosity. I saw men, women and children suffering in poverty, pity and guilt being the only feelings occupying my soul. I am a student of history, and I know the truth behind the backwards dealings the United States government did with the native tribes. I could not blame the many hate-filled stares I was given, nor defend myself against them. Still, I was welcomed by a group of natives that could speak English very well, and was asked what my business there was. I relayed to my greeters my name, and my father's name,

asking them to take me to the leader of Mangas-Colaras' tribe. I was told they would be found, and that I could wait in the town hall for them. I thanked them and made my way to the town hall. Along the way I saw more of the devastating conditions of the reservation which made my heartache. I hadn't much money on my person, but the few who came to me begging, I gave what I could. I'd expected more beggars, but the Apache are a proud people, and I was sure that there were still elders around who had fought off white settlers from their land, and anyone caught begging from a white man for money would receive a scolding at the very least.

After an hour or so waiting in the town hall, a young man with four older men, one very old indeed, entered the town hall and greeted me. The young man, who spoke English perfectly, told me that the United States government had thrown together many different tribes of Apache when they created this reservation. The four older men was the council of wise men, though officially they had. held no power, and the young man was the descendant of the chief Victoria. I guess that this was going to be the closest situation I was going to get with the parameters my father had set. So, I gave the young man the letter. The five men read the letter with curiosity, and when finished,

they engaged in fevered discussion in their own language for a few minutes. I can neither speak nor read Apache, but it looked like two of the older men were very adamant about something, The other two and the young man were calm, but no less resistant on their point of view. Finally, it came to a head, and the angry men seemed to cave. Satisfied, the young man turned back to me and gave me a genuine smile. Tell your father, our envoy shall be there in a week, and they shall judge if what is being offered is equal repayment. I merely stared at him, bewildered.

I'm sorry, I said, but he hasn't told me any. nothing. Do we owe you money? Because if so, I'll be willing to draw up a contract. The young man interrupted me. You do not need to know the details. Your father's history with us is his and yours is yours. It would be best for you to simply tell him our response and let him and us deal with each other. If he dies before we arrive, we will tell you our history and the responsibility will be on you. He then told me that my horse had been given water and feed and bid me a plight but insistent goodbye.

When I got back home the following day and told Father their response, I could see cold fury and build in his eyes. I knew then for sure he was dying, as the anger gave way to rasping cocks, and then a look of defeat. He thanked me and told me to go about my dad, daily chores. In all my life, I'd never seen him act this way. I begged him to tell me what was going on, but he refused. If this relationship we have with the natives is not resolved with their visit,

then I'll tell you. He went quiet after that. I knew it was best to get on with my chores. The 3rd of August, 1901. Something happened last night that is shaken my family to the core. I know not fully the sins my mother and father are guilty of, but they did not deserve what has occurred. Abigail is asleep on my bed as I write this in the dark of night, as she is too afraid to sleep on her own. I do not blame her, for even though I am a man of science, I cannot explain what has taken place, and it has shaken me to my very core. Our farm is not massive, but it's not small by any means. As such, there are a few acres that are not dedicated to crop growth.

These acres are inhabited by rocks, weeds, the graves of my two older brothers, and an old mine entrance into the mountains. My sister and I have been forbidden to go near since the time we learned our first words. I suspect that the entrance is the opening to the mine our family ran when grandfather settled here, but neither father nor mother. have ever confirmed it. Early this morning, as I was helping our few farmlands tilling the many small fields we have, I heard a scream of terror I knew was from Abigail. It was coming from the direction of the old mine, behind some hills near the back of our property.

My eldest brother was killed near there seven years ago from a mountain lion attack, and so I wasted no time rushing to try and find her, clutching my garden hoe tightly. I'd rather die than let anything happen to Abigail. I rushed over the hills and soon caught sight of my sister. She was sitting on the ground, a basket of eggs dropped and forgotten by her side. Her fear-filled scream, being combined now with sobs of despair, as she was openly crying. She appeared uninjured, thank God, and when she heard me running up to her, she got to her feet and practically leapt into my arms.

She stopped screaming, but was shaking it all over and weeping hysterically. I stroked her hair, and was about to ask her what was wrong. When out of the corner of my eye, I saw something, and my blood rang cold. What the farmhands and my parents saw when they arrived was bad enough. At the entrance to the dark abyss that led into the mountains stood two mummified corpses. I can't understand what allowed them to stand on their own. their own two feet, but there they were. Each had their arms open in a welcoming gesture, each dry, grey, eyeless face stretched into a devilish smile. Their smiles were filled with teeth,

fashioned from gold, making their grins, dirty yellow seem even more horrid than had their real rotten teeth still been intact. One had clearly been in the ground longer than the other, as its clothing was slightly more worn and dirtier. Even with age and mummification, however. I still recognise the corpses of my two older brothers, one with its shredded clothes from when he'd been killed during the mountain lion attack. What no one but my sister and I saw was the chicken. It had escaped the coop while Abigail had been feeding them, and she'd tried to catch it before it went too far. That was the whole reason she was near the entrance to the mine at all. She later told me what had made her scream wasn't the unearthed corpses.

of our brothers, but that a tendril of blackness had slid out of the mine and grabbed the chicken as it ran past. I myself didn't see any Eldridge appendage coming from the mine, but I did catch a glimpse of the chicken, trying to free itself in vain from something in the darkness of the entrance, before being sucked into the encompassing blackness with a final squawk of fear and pain. Something was living in the mountain behind our home. My mother fainted at the the sight of my two brothers' bodies displayed as they were. My father, who had been helped out of bed and into the field by a farm hand, contorted his face into a combination of blind fury and abject terror. If I had not been busy comforting my sister, I would have probably

shared his sentiment. I'm not a religious person by any means, but the fact that someone would defile my brother's rest like that sparked a primal fury in my soul. While my sister who had calmed down somewhat, and father tried to resuscitate my mother. The farmhands and I went to investigate the graves of my brothers. The ground had not been disturbed. From the service they looked like they'd been there for the past few years. It was suggested by one of the help, but maybe the corpses weren't my brothers, but I knew better.

I ordered their coffins to be unearthed, so we started digging. It didn't take long. We discovered a curious sight. Their coffins were both smashed and broken, with no bodies inside. It seemed that whatever unhallowed their bodies took them from underground and somehow brought them above ground to be contorted as they were. Later that night, with an afternoon spent constructing new coffins and reburying my brothers, I confronted father with my findings.

He merely nodded, and went back to staring at the same. the lit fireplace in his bedroom. I was at my breaking point. I can endure a lot of things, but being in the dark about a situation is not one of them. I asked him directly if the Apache had been the ones who disrupted my brother's sleep. My father began. Not them directly, but because of them. He stopped suddenly and went very quiet for a while, before finally finishing with.

No, it's not because of them. I should have listened when I had the chance. I asked pointedly what was going on, but my father just shook his head. I will tell you when the business with the Apache is done. All I can tell you now is that once you know the truth, you will wish for ignorance again. The 4th of August 1901. My world has been shattered. So many of the things I thought were truth have been exposed.

as lies all in one day. My future prospects look grim, and I have no one except my own family to take the blame for it. I feel tired, depressed and angry all at once. It is a chore to recount the events that took place today, but I feel that I must, if only to help get my feelings and thoughts straight. If what was told to me is fact, then my journal shall also be a warning to all those who read it. The morning began with the arrival of the Apache envoy in a covered wagon. There were twelve men in total, including the five men who I had met a week ago.

My mother and I greeted them and offered food and water for their horses and breakfast and coffee for the men. They politely refused the breakfast and coffee, but gladly accepted the nourishment for their horses. While two farmhounds took care of the steeds and wagon, mother and I led the group to father's bedroom. he'd managed to get himself dressed and was sitting at a small table near the fireplace which had also managed to light it must have been a tremendous strain on him for though he was displaying himself as healthy i could tell he was sitting up purely on willpower father greeted the men and asked mother and i to close the door and wait in the living room until their discussion was over he promised this wouldn't take long with a false smile

before adorning a gruff and determined face for the natives. We fulfilled his request, and I found myself playing cards with my sister in the living room while mother busied herself in the kitchen, baking my father's favourite apple pie. For about ten minutes, the men were quiet in their discussions. A few times I heard a raised muffle that I knew was my father disagreeing with something,

but nothing was too heated. Shortly thereafter, I heard the first shale, shouts, and soon the twelve men exited his bedroom and silently left the house. Father tried to follow after, but only had enough strength to reach the doorframe of his bedroom. As the last native was exiting through the front door, he managed to roar. My sons are buried here, and I will be buried here. We aren't leaving for nothing. Curious, I looked out the front window. The Apache was slowly making their way to the barn. I was worried they planned to make off with our tools and some animals, so I went to the

cabinet where we kept our guns. Father stopped me with a gruff, leave them to their work. Confused, I went back to the window. Nothing moved outside for a minute or two, but then the Apache were exiting the barn with what looked like rocks of different sizes. Some were big enough that two or three people were required to carry them. To satisfy my inquiring mind, I stepped outside and walked the now big pile of rocks. As soon as I got close, I knew what they were immediately.

Chunks of unrefined gold ore. I stared in amazement, for this amount of gold would have allowed our family to live in luxury for generations. Yet this was all hidden somewhere in the barn. I'd known that something was odd with our farm's economics for a while, as there was no way the little crops and household goods we produced could keep our business going, but never had I thought we were sitting on this much hidden wealth. After a few more minutes, it seemed all the gold was taken, and the Apache began loading it into their wagon.

The young man who was a descendant from Chief Victoria came to me. Your father is very close to death, so I will tell you this in case he does not have the chance or decides not to. His face was serious, but had a touch of general concern in it. As I said last time we spoke, your father's history with us is his and yours is yours, and so I warn you. Your misfortune is yours alone when you leave our sacred land. The debt to us has been repaid, but the darkness who dwells in the mountains only takes blood as repayment. if you stay here

it will bring about the ruin of your family another Apache called to the young man and he left my side to help load the oar as I stood in wonder at what I'd just been told soon the Apache were finishing loading the wagon and were on their way back home chanting something in their native language as they did

I watched them go silently and once their covered wagon vanished from my view I marched straight back to the house I was going to find out what the hell was going on and I wasn't going to accept any excuses anymore My father had managed to get back into his bedclothes Back into bed when I arrived in his room His eyes were watching the door as I came in

As though he was expecting me Before I could get a word in edgewise He motioned to a chair beside the bed and told me to take a seat Stunned I did as he asked without protest He took a few moments to gather himself, and with a deep breath he began to tell his tale. As you know, your grandfather came to New Mexico from New York in 1865. He'd heard the tales of the gold rush that occurred here in Pinos Altos in 1860. And since the Union had just won the Civil War and was in desperate need for money,

he thought it was the perfect time to come. Plus, there were more troops here now that the fighting in the East was done. so he believed it was a lot safer. Selling his land and almost all his possessions. My father and mother traveled all the way out here and settled in the town during spring. You and your grandfather are a lot alike, you know. No, he came from a poor family.

My father made sure that he was a well-read and educated man. So when he arrived, he knew of the plight of the native Apaches and was aware of past mistreatment of them from both the Mexican and United States governments. He decided to mix his sympathies for them with his natural business cunning, came up with a plan to benefit not only him, but the Apaches as well. In the light of day, he put on the appearance of any other prospect of living here,

trying to find the reserves of gold and silver by himself, while fearing Indian attacks. At night, however, he met the Apaches and worked out to deal with them. He reasoned they knew where golden silver veins were to be found, since this was their land, as we told them he would be a middleman for them in the United States. The plan was that they would deliver him gold ore, and he would trade supplies like bullets and coffee to them. Then he would claim the gold was found by him, sell it to the government, and give the Apache 20% of his earnings. I don't know how he did it, but your grandfather was a silver-tonged devil. The Apache agreed to the deal, and very soon he did it.

your grandfather was smelding and selling some of the purest gold that had been found in this country. For a while, our family had the perfect situation. We saved money on mining equipment and miners, since we didn't do any mining. Since both the Apaches and my father were as good as their word, we had a steady supply of gold to sell, and they were making a decent profit. I grew up watching this. As the years passed, the sin of greed took root in my soul. When your grandfather made me partner in the company that had sprung up around our success,

I started siphoning off profit to a private account. When your grandfather caught pneumonia died in the early spring of 1873, that was when I made my move. After being the sole head of our mining and smelting operation, I knew I had to find where the Apaches were getting this steady stream of gold ore over all these years. Well, it took some time. but I managed to find an Indian who was willing to sell out his tribe for a large amount of cash. I paid him, he led me to hear, his very land we walk on now.

I knew our rise to even further riches had finally come. With the rest of my private accounts assets, I played the game of politics and had enough to win influence in President Grant's cabinet. With my leverage, I managed to get Grant to create the Mescalero Reservation in May of 1873. Once that was done, I wasted no time in driving the remaining Apache from here. I hired a group of Pinkertons and rode out to where the Apache were camped. I had no thoughts of violence in my mind, only intimidation. When we arrived, it seemed they'd known we were coming, as most of their camp was taken down,

and they were ready for travel. I informed them of the new reservation created by President Grant, told them if they were going anywhere, at the reservation would be their safe and legal destination. I was only given hateful stares in return. Before the tribe left, an old medicine man and young woman approached our armed group, unafraid of the multitudes of armed men behind me. Using the woman as a translator, the medicine man told me he knew who I was,

and what I had planned. He told me that there was a darkness that dwelt in the mountains. He said that the darkness claimed everything in the mountain. mountain as its own, and that the tribe had mailed deals with it for the gold ore they supplied to us. Now that I'd broken ties with the tribe and forced them from their homes, the darkness would look to me to fulfill the bargains they had made. I dismissed the old man is crazy, and once I was sure the natives were gone from this region, I built our home here. Our barn was originally a storage and processing plan for the ore we were going to uncover. I did not

think of this land as anything but a gold-filled treasure trove. I never imagined this place to be where the raising of my family would take place. When we first entered the mountain, we found we didn't need to do any drilling or blasting. There was a natural series of caves that led deep underground. At first, we found nothing, but about two miles in, we were in awe of the amount of gold veins running through the walls. There was so much of it, and the rock was so soft you could almost pull. the gold from the walls itself.

I knew then I was going to become one of the richest men in America, and immediately began excavating the tunnels. It was about a year after, I established the mine and started employing people from town that, well, I met your mother. Until then, I thought only wealth was my sole motivation in this world. But when I set eyes on her, I knew immediately that the money I had acquired for myself meant nothing, and that its sole purpose was to bring about her happiness. Your mother changed me for the better.

She saw past my greed and ambition and made me pay my workers better and make the mine safer than it was. I did everything, she asked, and in only a few months we were married. For three years we were the happiest people alive. She had delivered to me a son, your oldest brother, and the mine seemed to have an endless amount of gold. I was far more religious then. Thank God every day for the plentiful bounty.

that he had blessed me with. I shared my wealth with the town and employed almost half of it. With all my prosperity, I made the foolish mistake of never thinking back on the Apaches and what I'd done to them, nor of their warning to me when they were forced from their home. This would soon be the reason for our family's downfall. The fifth year our mind was open. Strange things started happening. Equipment left in the mine began disappearing. At first, It was minor things, some pickaxes, a few lanterns. Then a box of dynamite went missing. I had to start taking things much more seriously.

I put guards in front of the mine every night, and yet still things weren't missing inside. After no one was seen entering or exiting the mine, with any of the missing items, I figured someone must still be in the mine, hiding out and surviving off rations they bought with them when they first sneaked in. This is when the Apaches re-entered my mind.

I began to think that a few of them had sneaked in and were doing their best to muddle up my operations as a way of revenge. I had planned to go to the reservation to talk and maybe do more than talk if they said some things I didn't like. Your mother convinced me otherwise, and I ended up arming a group of men and going into the mine to look for those responsible for the thefts. I hadn't been in the mine since the first time I'd entered those four years ago. It somehow was darker and more hostile than when I'd first entered the mountain. I had ten armed men behind me, however, and the fear I felt was only in the back of my mind. The only worry that I was concentrating on was the worry that the thieves were armed and dangerous, especially since they had a box of dynamite.

Slowly, lighting the lanterns that lit the walls as we went, Hagroup began his trek into the inside of the mountains. By this point in time, my men had really began digging deep into the roots of the mountain. We travel slowly and silently, checking every alcove we came across to make sure that there wasn't someone hiding in the pitch black. Apache had dangerous fighters, and even Tenman could fall very quickly to a surprise attack from only a couple of Apache warriors. So we went carefully, as no one wanted their last minutes alive spent in the deep, dark earth, before taking a knife in the bank. The time passed, and we encountered no one. We eventually made it to the most recent cabin that was created by my men and that housed a large vein of gold.

There was some confusion among the men, as none of them could recognize this man-made room. They knew they'd made it, but it was different from when they'd left it just a day earlier. It was much bigger, with a ceiling rising into the darkness, high enough that our light sources could not elude. illuminate the top. Our posse had spent some time looking over a map of the mines, trying to plan our next move, when something seemed off. We looked around the room, but nothing seemed out of place. It was then we noticed that one of the men was missing. We didn't know how this could have happened, as all of us were sure that everyone had stayed together and had entered this large room at the same time. With curses and calls for his name, our groups were to be able to be. Our groups were sure that everyone had stayed together and had entered this large room at the same time. With curses and calls for his name, our group split up and searched for him, even more cautious than we'd been before. The man I was with was named Henry Cassinger. He was a good man, a hard worker, and had a lovely family. So this day, I am glad that he was the man I was paired with, for it was his keen eyes and cunning brain that allowed me to make it out of that unholy blackness alive.

wherever he is now I can only pray that life has been kind to him Henry and I we were checking the passageways about a mile from the back of the big room our group had been in when they first heard the screams they weren't the type of screams one would utter when a brawl was happening

or even on a battleground where the dead and dying pile around you on the roar of cannons assault your ears the whales were those that sailors describe in their tall tales of watery horror. Screams of the lost and damned. Screams of those who pray for death, yet death does not come. They were the screams of the souls that suffered through hell on earth. Just as quickly as they'd come, they vanished, as though a door had been slammed and their cries were

muffled. Henry and I looked at each other in stunned silence as the echoes of their other groups of men reached our ears, asking what had happened and was everyone all right? A rotten stench had filled the air, like centuries old decay and grime and death had been disturbed, and now filled the air with this poisonous stench. I was about to respond to the cries of the other groups when Henry shushed me, and waited with bated breath to what would happen next. The screams came again, this time closer, and Henry and I began running, our instinct taking over our minds.

The shrieks followed us, combining me. with the terror-filled shouts of the rest of the groups trying to escape just like us. As we ran through the dimly lit tunnels, we could tell one by one that the groups were being attacked by whatever lived in the gloom, as their shouts of alarm and panic became warped into those of screams of damned souls, before being snuffed out like a light. As Henry and I made it to a large intersection of tunnels that marked our closeness to the surface, I stupidly decided to look back the way we'd come. For an instant, there was nothing except rock wall and support columns that were lit up from the lanterns.

Then, an oozing blackness covering all surfaces of the tunnel came from around a corner, swallowing everything in the inky abyss that was itself. The sight of this infernal thing caused my breath to catch in my throat, and my eyes were so distracted by this abysmal mass, but they didn't see the rock pile in front of me, and I tripped and fell. I knew doom in that instant, as the engulfing darkness crept closer.

I was about to let out, the very screams my fellow men had before their fate had been sealed. When Henry came back for me, with one arm he pulled me to my feet, and with the other he reached into his pocket and flung whatever he had in there at the all-encompassing mass. It turned out to be a pocket full of coins. His throw had been hasty and weak, made with his offhand while he concentrated on lifting me from the ground.

The coins cladded to the cave floor weakly in front of the conglomeration of filth and evil, and yet it stopped. For an instant, we saw a small tendril from the main clump of blackness reach out and daintily pick up the coins one by one, as though it was a man who had found loose change on the ground and happily retrieved them as though it was his lucky day. Henry broke our gaze with a loud, run!

And we took off, running faster than we'd ever run in our lives before. This time I did not make the mistake of looking back until our bodies passed a threshold of the entrance and we were bathed in pale moonlight on the dusty ground and our lungs sucked in greedily the clean, open air. After a few gasps of the sweet light air, I dared to turn around to see if the devil who dougly pursued us would leave its lair to claim two final victims. At first, I thought the blackness that filled the void of the Mize entrance was that of

the natural sort. But after staring at it for a few seconds, I realized that it was too thick, too solid to be the simple lack of light. I felt then that Henry and I were safe, as that the same. as the writhing shade did not seem to be able to leave the entrance and exit the mountain. But the abomination wasn't through with us yet, and gave us a final taunt that has haunted my dreams every night to this very day. Eyes appeared from the darkness,

not eyes that one would imagine a demon or beast if the night would have. Oh, human eyes of different colours and ages, all spaced unevenly through. throughout the blackness, never any in a pair. Next came the smiles. They were made of teeth taken from different mouths, all turned into terrible grins you might see on the face of a killer in love with his work. Then came the most terrible jeer of all.

Bodies with their skin all taken off, missing their eyes and teeth crawled from the darkness. was moaning and abject suffering, and all of them were trying to get away from the black mass. But I could see that, attached to every limb that moved, was a tentacle of Eldridge origin, tying the poor man to the pitch blackness. Just when it seemed the men, my men, who I had the pleasure of talking to and working with just hours before, were finally about to break free. The abhorrent creature pulled them back into itself, allowing one final. screech from each man before disappearing into the thing.

From the depth of my memory, the words of the medicine man floated into my mind then. The darkness claims everything in the mountain as it's old. Once the entity went back to the depths of the mountain, Henry quit right there and then. I couldn't blame him. I would have done the same thing if I was in his position. I walked back to your mother in the house, I wrapped my arm around her and your eldest brother. I knew then and there the mining company was doomed.

But I had enough gold ore that I'd secreted away so that we would live comfortably, and I had my family and my life. I needed nothing more, especially since it was clear to me where my sin of greed had led me. The darkness in the mountain wasn't done with our family yet, though. For years it waited, having the men it devoured occasionally called out to me in the night,

begging for me to help them escape, or cursing me for leaving them to their fate. It never wandered from the accursed doorway that traversed its pitch-black home, but anything that went too near the entrance had the risk of being swallowed up. And that is the true fate of your eldest brother. I had warned him about the mind, but never told him the truth of what love. lurked in there. He wasn't a mountain lion at the torrent sheds, and I should feel blessed. I was able to recover his body at all. After a few more years, he turned its sights on my second son. He was a good lad and loved the farming lifestyle. I told you and your sister he died

of a snake bite, but the truth is far worse. He was digging a well when he accidentally went too deep and connected to part of the mine. I tried to get a rope to him, but even in the middle of the afternoon sun, the black filth poured into the pit he was standing in, and in less than a minute he was swallowed up by the gloom. I suppose I again should feel blessed. It left me a body to bury. By now the sun had set, and the night sent eerie shadows dancing across the room from the light of the dying fireplace. I could only stare at Father as he finished recounting this tale of loss, trying to wrap my head around his words. He looked at me again, his eyes the eyes of a broken man.

We did try to move in once, before I paid the Apache back, but it didn't work. When I was in Les Cruces, fighting a nice house for us, I passed by a sewer grate during dusk. From the great I heard whispering And looking into it I saw the eyes of my men again Staring back in me And one huge smile Filled with too many teeth

For a human mouth It would follow me Wherever I went He covered his face with his hands And for a moment I thought he was going to cry After a few moments He managed to compose himself

And looked at me determinedly I have no plans on leaving this land alive. I'll be buried here with your brothers. I look to you to move the family office blasphers mountain. Even with our reserves of gold gone, we have enough saved to get a modest house somewhere, anywhere but here. Besides, you're a smart man. Smarter than me in more ways than one.

I trust your judgment and no doubt you'll lead us to prosperity once again. A coughing fit silenced father, and I stayed by its side until it subsided. He seemed exhausted, so I excused myself and began to leave. Before I made it out of the door, he called me softly. I know you're a man of science. Probably don't believe the story I just told you. Or you believe that there are explanations to the terrors I went through. There was a gas leak in the mine.

Your brother was killed by a cougar living in the mines. It wasn't the darkness, but oil which should. swallowed up my son. I wish those were true, but they aren't. Now the darkness is tempting you to go into the mountain. Resisted. There still may be gold in those tunnels, but it belongs to the darkness. Only a true fool would venture into those minds. The 7th of August 1901. We buried father today, next to my brothers. A lot of people from town, showed up for the funeral, his father did employ many of the townsfolk when the mine was open, and did help with the prosperity of the region for a time. I could tell that everyone from town

made a conscious effort not to look towards where the mine entrance was located, hidden behind a few hills. It seems odd to me that so many of the Christian faith believe in a creature from Apache folklore. I guess it's easier to call something you'd understand a demon, and let it stay like that, rather than trying to uncover the truth. Father did have some money saved away, but alas, it is not enough. You certainly can move from this land, which both Mother and Abigail wish to do, but it's certainly not enough for us to live comfortably. We need another source of income, just temporarily,

so that I can attend college and support us with a career that requires a degree. There's an item patented by Louis P. Haslett from Louisville that claims it can protect one's lungs from harmful particles in the air. This inhaler or lung protector that I afford will allow me to trip into the mine to retrieve a sack of gold ore without exposing myself to the harmful gas that was the cause of father's nightmarish hallucinations. I'll be able to retrieve a sack of gold ore,

enough to secure my family's future, and I may even be able to locate the bodies of the original team that went with father. so they may be recovered and given a proper burial. I am a man of science and don't believe in spirits and demons and things that go bump in the night. I'm sure. Just one trip into the mountains will be worth the rewards it reaps. I once had a demon take my Victorian English class.

I sat in the back of my classroom watching the students give their presentations one by one. It was something I hated more than they did. Well, I hated failing students simply because they were shy and had a hard time speaking in public, but the school mandated that their final be in the form of a verbal presentation of a Victorian author. I took a swig of my coffee and blew my nose

into the handkerchief I kept there. I listened as Martin Ash spoke about Emily Dickinson. He was a good student and his speech was thorough, but I found myself nodding off as I looked down at my notations. "'Ah, fuck it, you'll get a-lay.' "'I was too immersed in the fact "'I'd been up late the night before with my Tinder date. "'Hey, teachers need to be laid, too.

"'Although, you must be thinking how inappropriate. "'No, what's to think of their teachers "'as someone who has a life outside of the classroom? "'Well, that'll make us human.' "'The Marden finished up, "'and there was an awkward silence as I looked at the list. "'The following student was one I was not looking forward to at all.

I cleared my throat. Excellent, Martin. Next, I believe, is Jolie Greer. I looked up at the front of the class and smiled at my prize pupil. She was brilliant, but there was always something about her that gave me this odd feeling

that she was more than just a young girl of 16. Jolie was awkward, which was a heavily laid understatement. She wore low. long dresses that flowed out like something from another time and space. She wore her hair in an old-fashioned Victorian way, and all of her shirts went up to her chin. She had long, mousy brown hair that frizzed outward in every direction.

Her face was pale as that of a portrait. The shape of her mouth was thin like a slit, and her square jawbones seemed too tiny to fit the rest of her. She was lanky and, well, average-looking. yet her eyes sparkled whenever she looked at me. Granted, we all have our favourite teachers, and I guess you could say I was hers. In all honesty, I don't even recall when Jolie appeared in my class.

It was as if she was always there, although I knew that wasn't the case, I just couldn't remember when she'd started my course. But, well, I didn't like Jolly. If I'm honest, the girl gave me the creeps. I couldn't put my finger on it. There was just something in the way she watched me when I taught. I would pace back and forth, using my hands a lot,

and she wouldn't even blink when she looked at me. I tried to remove her from my class and place her in my friend Jennifer's English class, but she didn't want Julie either. I even tried scheduling my class as the last Victorian class of the day, hoping maybe I'd receive fewer pupils. Well, my hope was that this year I wouldn't get her in my class after hearing the rumors. Well, granted, rumors were rumors.

But Mr. Hoffman had to give her a D in his math class, and two days after the report cards came out, his house was burned down. They said surely was evil, and that she and her wicked mother had cursed him. They said 24 hours earlier they'd found him. Mr. Hoffman's cat, Linus, stepped to death on his front porch. So, you see, I had my reservations. I try not to make it obvious to her that she creep me out, but I tended to avoid her unless I absolutely had to speak to her.

The other students seemed oblivious to her and didn't give her a thought in the world as if she were no more significant than the ant that you walked on. She was a wallpaper stain, one you couldn't get rid of no matter how much effort you put in. I didn't feel bad for my feelings either. Shall we begin, Mr. Edwards? She asked in a high-pitched voice that made my entire body cringe when she spoke.

Um, yes, Julie, go ahead. The stage is yours, I said, trying to sound jovial. Very well. Nathaniel Hawthorne was a cursed man for most of his life. still more so than his grandfather who was said to have been the judge and jury of burning the women of Salem, Massachusetts. She began in that voice that seemed more like an imitation of a girl of 16 rather than a real girl. Well, it figured she picked a man whose grandfather had been accused of being a cursed human being.

I took a deep breath and tried to listen to her. She spoke well, eloquent even. She provided information that was new and interesting. interesting. Clearly she'd done her research. When she finished, she stood there grinning at me. She never blinked, only smiled at me as though she were a picture. Thank you. You may sit down, Jolie. She took her seat and the next student provided us with information about why Mark Twain was really racist. I barely listened. I couldn't even concentrate straight after Jolie.

She was facing the front of the classroom, and her back was towards me, but I couldn't help feeling like she had her eyes in the back of her head, just glaring at me. That afternoon, when school was over, I packed away my things and headed out to my truck. I got inside, just in time, as it began to thunder and lightning

in the moment I shut the door to my truck. The rain poured down so heavily, I couldn't hear anything except the rain hitting the roof of my vehicle. I turned on the wipers and they went to town swishing the water off my windshield in buckets.

I poured out of the parking lot and then had to stop abruptly right as I went to turn into the street. Standing in front of my car grinning from ear to ear was jolly. She waved me and I rolled the window down on my truck

or I could pretend I didn't see her and drive away unfortunately she walked directly into my sight so that I had no choice but to see her oh Jolie it's pouring out did you forget to take the bus oh no I always walk but today I got stuck in the rain

she said still grinning she looked at me for a long while as the rain drenched her from head to tongue I took a deep breath and finally opened my mouth "'Um, would you like me to drive you home?' I asked, hoping that she would maybe decline and that her mother that I'd heard so much about would come. Oh, jeepers, Mr. Edwards. Yes, I suppose that would be okay with mother.

She hopped into my truck, and I took her satchel, putting it on the floor while I tried to move things off the front seat of the truck. We drove for a few moments before she finally. spoke. I looked down at her and Jolie sat there looking straight ahead with that giant grin. It was like she wasn't real and it was always on her face. I don't think I'd ever witness one single emotion besides that Cheshire cat grin. Is your street the one on the left just after Jefferson Avenue? I asked her. Oh, mother's always going on about how there's no gentleman left in the world. But I think you just proved her wrong, Mr. Edwards. She looked up at me with the most

severe gaze I'd ever seen in her eyes. Well, thank you, but I'm polite. I mean, we are friends, after all. I said, I'm not really sure what to say to her. My street's too up from here, she said, her face returning to that grin. I then pulled into her driveway to let her out. and I noticed her little brick house had no lights on. It seemed strange because it was so dark outside with the storm. All the other places had their lights on, yet this one remained dark. I thought no more of it as she exited the vehicle. Thank you so much, Mr. Edwards.

Your good deeds will not be unnoticed, she said, shutting the door to the truck and running to her door. There was an audible sound of relief that left my mouth as I let out of it. a deep breath. Just being near that young lady made my anxiety go up. I didn't know why. The next day I went into my classroom

but stopped, as I noticed the lights were already on. When I opened the door of a woman was sitting at one of the desks in front of the classroom. She was dressed like something from 1910, the same style that my student Jolie wore.

The woman stood up and walked over to me, carrying a basket, "'Hello. My name's Evelyn. I'm Jolie's mother, and I wanted to bring this to you to say thank you.' I smiled, looking down at the basket with what looked to be red velvet cupcakes. Oh, my favourite. How did you know? Jolie knows everything about you, Mr. Edwards. You're her favourite teacher. The woman smiled at me. I felt that tinge of awkwardness that I felt with Jolene. The apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Thank you very much, Evelyn, but this isn't necessary. Oh, but it is. Please take these as a thank you. I looked down at the delicious cupcakes and decided I couldn't accept them. I mean, I wanted to, but I felt like I'd be inviting more of this intrusive behavior if I did. Um, may I ask you how you got in? I always locked the door at the end of the day. Oh, um, the janitor let me in.

She said, holding up the cupcakes again. I'm sorry, but I can't accept gifts from parents. They may think it's bribery. I smiled at her, hoping she'd get the hint. Well, then you must come to dinner tonight at six sharp, no earlier, no later. She looked me dead in the eyes. It unnerved me, and I found myself accepting her invite just to get her to leave. Um, you know what?

Sure, why not? Excellent. We'll be expecting you, and don't be late, she said, and seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye. When I noticed she was gone, I looked down at my desk to see that she left me one of the red velvet cupcakes. I smiled, and, peeling the wrapping off, took a large bite and a giant swig of my coffee.

No one would see me. However, the rest of the day, I did have trouble concentrating. The mere thought of that woman and the young girl inviting me to dinner seemed even more creepy. It was just something about Jolie and her mother. It wasn't the rumours I'd heard, but rather the way they were. They weren't like other people. It didn't matter how nice they were.

They creeped out everyone they met. I felt tired as the final bell rang. Jolet came over to my desk at the end of the day and stood looking at me very seriously. Mr. Edwards, don't forget that dinner is at six-shop. Mother hates when guests are late for dinner. Oh, you may want to wash up a bit too, she said, giggling and then running out of the door. I got up and shut the door.

I wanted to finish up my grading for the week before I left. I really wanted to store the dinner date that I'd been put on the spot for. I had to take off my glasses and rub my eyes. and I closed them for a brief moment. Well, before I knew it, it was a quarter to six. I must have dozed off. I stood up and went to my truck. In the back of my mind, I kept thinking about what Jolie had said.

Mother doesn't like guests to be late. I arrived at Sixth Sharp, just as I was told. This time the house was illuminated with candles and dim lighting throughout the place. Jolie greeted me in. a pink Victorian-style gown and a cup of tea. I thanked her and her mother Evelyn came in to take my coat and provide hors d'oeuv. The food, like the velvet cupcake, was delicious. When it came time for dinner, I was actually excited.

I'd lightened up a bit around both of them, and I felt catered to. I tried to forget that earlier I'd been so creeped out. So, Mr. Edwards, tell us about it. yourself. Evelyn asked, pouring a glass of red wine for me. Well, I grew up in Chicago and moved to Idaho for a bit before settling here in Massachusetts. I took a sip of wine, which tasted amazing, finishing it off in seconds and suddenly began to feel a bit odd, well, drunk even. How was the wine? Jolie asked. Oh, great, what brand is it? It's a home recipe passed down, from generation to generation, well, little secret.

Evelyn laughed as she poured me another glass. I began to sip it, and even though I felt funny, the taste of it made my taste buds go wild. If this was what bribery was, Jolie could have an A for every semester from here until the end. I'm sorry, ladies, but I really must use your restroom, I said. It's the first door on the left after the kitchen, Jolie offered. I stood but I could barely walk.

I made it to the restroom, did my business, and then, as I was walking back to the dining room table, I fell. When I opened my eyes, I was in a dark room with no light. I went to rubbed my eyes and realized it was unable to. Something was keeping me from being able to move. And then I heard laughter. He's trying to move.

said a voice that sounded more resounding than the two women. Hello? I yelled. Mr. Edwards, don't freak out. I'm here, your favourite student. Now I get to thank you by being your teacher. I felt something around my body. Two hands wrapped around my waist, lifting me off the seat I was in previously.

Then two more hands grabbed my feet, moving me to a mattress. What's going on? Untie me now, I yelled, feeling quite frustrated at this point. And I felt something hit my face. When it was a hand, I thought. He isn't perfect, but he'll get there, said an older woman's voice that I now recognised as Evelyn's. Please, please, why am I here?

I began to panic. And then a light switched on. I found myself on a bloody mattress and in the centre of the room was something that looked like a shower basin. It had a tube that was going straight into an old wine barrel. But we did bring you here to teach you a lesson.

You see, Mr. Edwards, you have many imbalances. Jolie can read your mind, and we both know now that you don't like Jolie. Can you tell us why she creeps you out and, in your own words, makes you cringe whenever you're around her? Evelyn asked, sitting in my face holding something behind her back. I always like having Julie in my class.

She's an above-average student, I said, panicking. Well, yeah, but you shouldn't let rumors cast shadows on me, said Jolie, still with that damn creepy grin. I don't know what you mean, I said now as I began to really worry about my well-being. Mr. Edwards, we have to know you mean it. I do mean it. Every word, I said, trying to reason with my captives. You have to show us that you mean it.

I heard something scraping on the bottom of the floor where I was tied up. When I looked behind me, Jolie, was holding a large axe. How much do you mean it? Tell me what the hell you want, I screamed. The two women looked at one another, and then they both began to laugh. Jolie is very talented, Mr. Edwards. I don't think you know how much. Well, darling, please show Mr. Edwards how talented you are.

I suddenly felt a sharp pain in the centre of my forehead. It felt as though someone had taken a knife and was digging into my brain. I screamed and nearly blacked out when I heard a voice. It wasn't as high-pitched as it usually was. I always really loved you, Mr. Edwards. Until that day you drove me home in the rain, or I could hear your thoughts as I can now. I broke my heart to know what you really thought of me.

Tell me, how does it feel to be in such pain? Like the pain you caused me? I screamed again, and then I felt no more pain. You shouldn't judge a book by his cover. Mr. Hoffman lied about me because he's a nightmare. in her case, and you chose to believe him over me? How dare you? she exclaimed in a fit of outright anger. Jolie's eyes began to get black as the shadows cast upon the walls,

and then her grin got wider and wider until she opened her mouth, revealing sharp teeth. Please, I cried, now wishing that this would all end, and her face returned to Norr. "'Fine. Make a sacrifice,' Jolie said to me. "'Anything you want. If you want straight A's, you got it. A college recommendation. You got that. "'Please, please, tell me what you want. I just want to go home.' I began to cry after what I'd seen. I knew that these two were not human. Would you do anything?' "'Yes, yes, please, anything you want,' I pleaded.

"'cut off your riding hand,' Julie said, smiling again. "'What?' I looked at her, and then Evelyn came over holding the axe. "'Don't worry, Mr. Edwards. It's easy-peasy. "'Once you show us she will do anything, you're free. "'Just make sure to let yourself drain out over here.' "'She pointed to the basin. "'Mr. Hoffman sacrificed his gift. kitty cat for us. Oh, that was waist-satter, wasn't it, darling? Jolene nodded. I wanted to fight back I couldn't

have. They dosed me with something that kept me barely able to move, which made the task of slicing into my own wrist that much more difficult. I felt sick, but I knew if I didn't do it, something worse would happen to me. I took the axe in my right hand, still tied to the bed. I could barely move it as far as I needed, but it was enough. to do the deed. I turned on my side to get a good length so I could move and then I stretched my hand over my body until it was on the mattress. It barely reached. But then I went to cut off my hand and realized and I couldn't. Oh, it'll require a bit of creativity, Evelyn smiled. I closed my eyes then, realizing that I'd have to use the axe blade to cut my hand off slowly.

Slicing into my skin one centimeter after another. I barely had the energy for either option, but I tried as I might. I bit down on the pain as I made my first slice. Blood leaked everywhere all over the mattress, all over me. Then I made a second cut. More blood over the thick skin. I wanted to throw up, as I was never much of a blood person. The mere sight caused me to pass out in most cases.

but I knew I couldn't pass out, not now. I had to finish this sadistic task. I cut again and again, more flesh, and now it was closer to my bones and tendons. This was going to be the hardest part. Well, thank God the axe was sharp like a knife, so it made cutting into my own skin easier. I couldn't take it anymore as the sound of the flesh cutting

and the blood was driving me cranes. It was slow torture until I finally sawed into enough bone to make one final weak-ass blow to my wrist, cutting the flesh until there was only a tiny thread of skin left attaching itself. I was screaming the entire time. I may even have blacked out. When I did, they walked me over to the basin, forcing me to bleed out. The last thing I heard was my blood flowing into the basin. I noticed that the two women were trying to get as much blood out of me as possible to go into the wine barrel.

They didn't even appear human any longer. Their eyes went black, their teeth became sharp and their tongue slurped at as much of the blood as they could muster. It was as if something demonic had taken over them both. No more was there the sweet Cheshire cat grin, or the polite woman wanting only the best for her child. Ah, these were diabolical beasts. What was it? I drunk. I passed out then. When I woke up, I looked around, shocked to find myself back in my classroom.

What the hell kind of nightmare had I just experienced? Had it been something in that cupcake? I stood up like a bad out of hell, looking around for Julie or Evelyn. And I looked down at my left wrist. It was still attached to my body. The only thing different was a small bandage wrapped around it to remind me that something had indeed happened to me. Jolie and Evelyn were nowhere to be found. There wasn't even a record Jolie had ever attended school or took my Victorian English class.

It left me with so many questions. Like, who was Jolie Greer? What was she? I gave my two weeks notice after that. I wouldn't say where I work because I'm still a bit frightened. I mean, who wouldn't be? That chorted up as a lesson to always treat others as you'd want to be treated. I certainly wouldn't make that mistake again.

The cave of horror. Screaming the garsman was jerked through the air, and an earthly screech rang through the cavern. The unseen horror of mammoth cave had struck again. Dr. Bird looked up impatiently as the door of his private laboratory in the Bureau of Standards swung over. open, but the frown on his face changed to a smile as he saw the form of operative Carnes of the United States secret surface framed in the doorway.

Hello, Carnes. He called cheerfully, Take a seat and make yourself at home for a few minutes. I'll be with you as soon as I finish getting this weight. Carnes sat on the edge of a bench and watched with admiration, the long, nervous hands and the slim tapering fingers of the famous scientist. Dr. Bird stood well over six feet and weighed two hundred six pounds stripped.

His massive shoulders and heavy shock of unruly black hair combined to give him the appearance of a prize-fighter until one lit at his hands. Acid stains and scars could not hide the beauty of those mobile hands, the hands of an artist and a dreamer. An artist, Dr. Bird was, albeit his artistry, expressed itself in the most delicate and complicated experiments

in the realms of pure and applied science that the world has ever seen, rather than in the commoner forms of art. The doctor finished his task of wearing a porcelain crucible, set it carefully into a desicator, and turned to his friend. What's on your mind, Carnes? he asked. You look worried. Is there another counterfeit on the market?

The operative shook his head. Have you been reading those stories that the papers have been carrying about mammoth cave? He asked. Dr. Bird admitted a snort of disgust. I read the first one of them partway through on the strength of it being an associated press dispatch, he replied. But that was enough. It didn't exactly impress me with its veracity, and from a viewpoint of literature, the thing was impossible.

I have no time to pour over the lucubrations of an inspired press agent. So you dismissed them as mere press agent work? Certainly. What else could they be? things like that don't happen fortuitously just as the tourist season's about to open suppose that those yarns will bring flocks to the curious to kentucky the public always responds well to sea serpent yarns

the mammoth cave has been closed to visitors for the season said kans quietly what cried the doctor in surprise was there really something to those wild yarns well there was and what's more of the point there still is. At least there's enough to it that I'm leaving for Kentucky this evening. I came here for the express purpose of asking you whether you wanted to come along.

Bolton suggested that I asked you. He said that the whole thing sounded to him like magic, and that magic was more in your line than it has. He made out a request for your services and have it in my pocket now. You interested? How does the secret service cut in on it? asked the doctor. It seems to me that it's a state matter.

Mammoth Cave isn't a national park. Apparently you haven't followed the papers. It was a state matter until the governor asked for federal troops. Whenever the regulars get into trouble, the federal government's rather apt and taken a hand. I didn't know that regulars have been sent there. Tell me more about the case. Will you come along?

Dr. Bird shook his head slowly. I don't really see how I can spare the time, Carnes, he said. I'm in the midst of some work of the utmost importance, and it hasn't reached the stage where I can turn it over to an assistant. Then I won't bother you with the details, replied Carnes as he rose. Sit down, damn you, cried the doctor. You know better than to try and pull that on me. Tell me a case, then I'll tell you whether I'll go or not.

I can't spare the time, but on the end. other hand, if it sounds interesting enough. Kahn's laughed. All right, doctor, he said. I'll take enough time to tell you about it even if you can't go. Now, do you know anything about it? No, I read the first story halfway through and then stopped. So start at the beginning and tell me the whole thing.

Have you ever been to Mammoth Cave? Nope. It, or rather they, for while it's called mammoth cave, it really is a series of caves, are located in Edmondson County in central Kentucky, on a spur railroad from Glasgow Junction on the Louisville and Nashville Railroad. They are natural limestone caverns with a customary stalactite and stalactite formations, but are unusually large and very beautiful. The caves are quite extensive, and they're on different levels, so a guide's necessary

if one wants to enter them and be a tall shore of finding the way out. Visitors are taken over a regular route and seldom allowed to visit portions of the cave off these routes. Large parts of the cave have never been thoroughly explored or mapped. So much for the scene. Well, about a month ago, a party from Philadelphia, who were motoring through Kentucky, entered the cave with a regular guide. The party consisted of a man and his wife and their two children, boy of 14, a girl of 12. They went quite a distance back into the caves, and then, as the mother was feeling tired, she and her husband sat down, intending to wait until the guide showed the children some

sights which lay just ahead and then returned to them. The guide, and the children, never returned. What happened? No one knows. All there is known is the bare fact that they've not been seen since. Kidnabbing case? Apparently not. In the light of later happenings, although that was at first thought to be the explanation.

Parents waited for some time. Mother said she heard faint screams in the distance some ten minutes after the guide and the children left. But they were very far away and she isn't sure she heard them at all. Well, at any rate, they didn't impress her at the time. When half an hour had passed, they began to feel anxious. And the father took a torch and started out to hunt for them. Well, the usual thing happened. He got lost.

When he failed to return, the mother now thoroughly alarmed, made her way by some uncanny sense of direction to the entrance and gave the alarm. In half an hour a dozen search parties were on their way into the cave. The father was soon located, not far from the Beaden Trail, but despite three days of constant search, the children were not located. The only trace of them that was found was a bracelet which the mother identified. It was found in the cavern some distance from the Beaten Path and was broken, as though by violence. I were no other signs of a struggle. When the bracelet was found, the kidnapping theory gained vogue.

For John Hattel, the missing guide, knew the cave well, and natives of the vicinity scouted the area that he might be lost in. Inspired by the large reward offered by the father, fresh parties began to explore the unknown portions of the cave. And then came the second tragedy. Two of the searches fell to return. This time there seemed to be little doubt violence for screams and a pistol shot were faintly heard by other searches together with a peculiar

screaming how as it was described by those who heard it the search was at once made toward the spot where the bracelet had been picked up and the gun of one of the missing man was found within 50 yards at the spot where the bracelet had been discovered one silhouder of the revolver had been discharged or any signs on the floor well the search has said that the floor appeared to be rather than more moist and slimy than usual. That was all. He also spoke of a very faint smell of musk, but this observation was not confirmed by others

who arrived a few moments later. So what happened next? The governor was appealed to when a company of the National Guard was sent from Louisville to Mammoth Cave. They took up camp at the mouth of the cave and prevented everyone from entering. Soldiers armed with service rifles penetrated the caverns,

but found nothing. Visitors were excluded, and the guardsmen established regular patrols and sentry posts in the cave, with the result that one night, when time came for a relief, the only trace that could be found of one of the guards was his rifle. It hadn't been fired. Double guards were then posted, and nothing happened for several days, and then another sentry disappeared. His companion came rushing out of the cave, screaming. When he recovered, he admitted that both he and the missing man had gone to sleep, And when he awoke, he found his comrade gone.

He called and he says that the answer he received was a peculiarly whistling noise, which raised all the hair on the back of his neck. He flashed his electric torch all round. We couldn't see anything. He swears, however, that he's heard a slipping, sliding noise approaching him. And he felt that someone was looking at him. He bared it as long as he could, and threw down his rifle and ran for his life. Had he been drinking?

No. It wasn't delirium either, as was shown by the fact that a patrol found his gun where he'd thrown in, but no trace of the other century. After this second experience, the guardsmen weren't very eager to enter the cave, and the governor asked for regulars. The company of infantry was ordered down from Fort Thomas to relieve the guards, but they fared worse than their predecessors. They lost two men the first night of their guards. Well, the regulars weren't caught napping, for the main guard had for the main guard had four. five shots fires. They rushed to patrol to the scene and found both of the rifles which had been fired, but the men, well, the men were gone.

The officer of the day made a thorough search of the vicinity and found some 200 yards from the spot where the sentries had been posted, a crack in the wall through which the man of a body could be forced. His body crack had fresh blood on each side of it. Several of his men volunteered to enter the Holren's search, but the lieutenant would not allow it. Instead, he armed himself with a couple of hand grenades in an electric torch and entered himself. Well, that was last Tuesday, and he is not returned. Was there any disturbance heard from the crack? Not at all. The guard was posted with the two machine guns pointed at the crack in the

wall, and a guard of eight men and a sergeant stationed there. Last night, about six o'clock, while the guards were sitting around their guns, a faint smell of must became evident. I won't pay paid a great deal of attention to it, but suddenly for no apparent reason at all, one of the men on guard Judy was jerked into the air, my feet upwards. He gave a scream of fear and an unearthly screech answered him. The guards, with the exception of one man, turned tail and ran. One man stuck by his gun and poured a stream of bullets into the crack. The retreating man could hear the rattle of the gun for a few moments. Then there was a choking scream, followed by silence. When the officer of the day got back with the patrol, there was a heavy smell of musk in the air, and a good deal of blood was splashed around.

The machine guns were both there, although one of them was twisted up until it looked like it had been through an explosion. The officer commanding the company investigated the place, ordered all the men out of the cave and communicated with the war departments. The secretary of war found it too tough enough to crack, and he asked for help, so Bolton sending me down that. Well, do you think, in view of this yarn, that your experiments can wait? The creases on Dr. Bird's high forehead had grown deeper and deeper as Kahn's had told his story, but now they suddenly disappeared, and he jumped to his feet with a boyish grin. How soon are we leaving? he asked. In two hours, Doctor.

Cars waiting for us downstairs, and I have a reservations book for both of us on the southern tonight. I knew you were coming. In fact, the request for your services had been approved before I came here to see you. Dr. Bird rapidly divested himself of his laboratory smock and took his coat and hat from a cupboard. Well, I do hope you realize, Cairnsy old man. He said as he followed the operative out of the building, that I have a real fondness for your worthless old carcass. I'm leaving the results of two weeks of patient work alone and unattended in order to keep you out of trouble.

I know that it'll be ruined when I get back. I wonder whether you are worth it. Ah, retorted Kans. I'm mighty glad to have you along, but you needn't rub it in by pretending that it's affection for me that's dragging you reluctantly into this mess. With an adventure like this ahead of you, leg-eyes and handcuffs wouldn't be able to keep you away from Mammoth Cave,

whether I was going or not. It was late afternoon before Dr. Burden and Kahn's dismounted from the special train which had carried them from Glasgow Junction to Mathemat's cave. They introduced themselves to the major commanding the Guard Battalion, which had been ordered down to reinforce the single company which had borne the first brunt of the affair, and then interviewed the guards who had been routed by the unseen horror which was haunting the famous cave.

Nothing was learned which differed in any great degree from the tale which cards had related to the doctor in Washington, except that the officer of the day, who had investigated the last attack, failed to entirely corroborate the smell of musk which had been reported by the other observers. That might have meant musk, but to me it smelled differently, he said. Were you ever near a rattlesnake den in the west? Dr. Byrd nodded. Then you know the peculiar reptilian odor which such a place gives off.

Well, this smell was somewhat similar, although not the same by any manner, I mean. It was musky, all right, but. but it was more snake than must to me. Well, I rather like must, but this smell gave me the horrors. Did you hear any noises? None at all. The men described some peculiar noises, Sergeant Jervis is an old file and pretty apt to get things straight,

but they may have been made by men who were in trouble. Saw a man caught by a bower in South America once. The noises he made might very well have been described in almost the same words as Jervis used. Thanks, Lieutenant, replied the doctor. I remember what you've told me. Now I think we'll go into the cave. But my orders, sir, to allow no one to end a doctor. I beg your pardon,

out Cairns, where's that letter from the Secretary of War? Garns produced the document. The lieutenant examined it and excused himself. He returned in a few moments with the commanding officer. In the face of that letter, Dr. Berg. said the Major. I have no alternative to allow you to enter the cave, but I will warn you that it is at your own peril.

I'll give you an escort if you wish. If, um, Lieutenant Pierce will come with me as a guide, that'll be all I need. Well, the lieutenant paled slightly, but threw back his shoulders. Do you wish to start at once, sir? He asked. In a few moments. What's the floor of the cave like where we're going?

Quite wet and slimy, sir. Very slippery. Yes, sir. In that case, before we go in, we want to put on some baseball shoes or cleats on them so that we can run if we have to. Can you get us anything like that? In a few moments, sir.

Good. As soon as we get them, we'll start. In the meantime, may I look at that gun that was found? The browning machine gun was laid before the doctor. He looked it over critically and sniffed delicately at it. He took from his pocket a file of liquid, moistened a portion of the water jacket of the weapon, and then rubbed the moistened part riskily with his hands. He sniffed again, and looked disappointed, and again examined the gun closely.

"'Corns,' he said at length, "'do you see anything on this gun that looks like tooth marks?' "'Nothing, doctor.' "'Neither do I. "'There are some marks here which might quite conceivably be fingerprints of a forty-fourty-fourty. for giant, but those two parallel grooves look like the result of severe squeezing. But there are no tooth marks. Strange. There's no persistent odor on the gun, which is also strange.

Well, there's no use in theorizing. We're confronted by a condition and not a theory that someone once said. Well, let's put on those baseball shoes and see what we can find out. Dr. Bird led the way into the cave, Karns and the lieutenant following closely with electric torches. In each hand, Dr. Bird carried a phosphorus hand grenade. No other weapons were visible, or the doctor knew that Kans carried a caliber 45 automatic pistol

strapped under his left armpit. As they passed into the cave, the lieutenant stepped forward to lead the way. I'm going first, said the doctor. Follow me and indicate the turns by pressure on my shoulder. Don't speak after we've started and be ready for instant flight. Now, let's go. forward into the interior of the cave they made their way.

The iron cleats of the baseball shoes rang on the floor, and the noise echoed back and forth between the walls, dying out in little eerie whispers of sound that made Kahn's hair rise. Ever forward, they pressed, the lieutenant guiding the doctor by silent pressure on his shoulder, and Karn's following closely. For half a mile they went on, until a restrainable pressure brought the doctor to a halt.

The lieutenant pointed silent. toward a crack in the war before them. Card started forward to examine it, but a warning gesture from the doctor stopped him. Slowly, an inch at a time, the doctor crept forward, hand grenades in readiness. Presently he reached the crack,

and, shifting one of the grenades into his pocket, he drew forth an electric torch and sent a beam of light through the crack into the dark interior of the earth. For a moment he stood thus, and then suddenly snapped off his torch and strained up in an attitude of listening. The straining ears of Kahn's and Lieutenant Pierce

could hear a faint slithering noise coming toward them, not from the direction of the crack, but from the interior of the cave. Simultaneously a faint, musky, reptilian odour became apparent. Run, shouted the doctor. Run like hell. It's loose in the cave. The lieutenant turned and fled at top speed toward the distant entrance of the cave.

cars at his heels. Dr. Bird paused for an instant, straining his ears, and then threw a grenade. A blinding flash came from the point where the missile struck, and a white cloud rose in the air. The doctor then turned and fled after his companions. Not for nothing had Dr. Bird been an athlete of note in his college days. Despite the best efforts of his companions, who were literally running for their lives, he soon caught up with them. as he did so a weird, blood-curdling screech rose from the darkness behind them,

higher and higher in pitch than it rose, until it ended suddenly in a gurgling grunt, as though the breath which had uttered it had been suddenly cut off. The slithering, rustling noise became louder on their trail. Faster, gasped the doctor, as he put his hand on Kans' shoulder and pushed him forward. The noise of pursuing him. Gained slightly on them, and the sound as of intense breathing became audible. Dr. Bird paused and turned and faced the oncoming horror.

His electric torch revealed nothing, but he listened for a moment, and then threw his second grenade. Keenly he watched its flight. It flew through the air for thirty yards, and then struck an invisible obstruction and bounded toward the ground. Before it struck, the downward motion ceased, and it rose in the air. As it rose it burst with a sharp report And a wild scream of pain filled the cavern with a deafening roar

The doctor and his companions fled again By the time he overtook them the entrance of the cave loomed before them With sobs of relief they burst out into the open The guard sprang forward with raised rifles But Dr. Byrd waved them back There's nothing after us man he panted Well we got chased a little way but I tossed our pursuer a handful of phosphorus and it must have burned his fingers a little judging from the racket

he made well at any rate it stopped the pursuit the major hurried up did you see it doctor he asked no i didn't no one has ever seen it or anything like it i heard it and from his voice i think it is a bag called at least it sounded hoarse so i gave it a little white phosphorus to make a poultice for his throat I didn't get a glimpse of it. For God's sake, Doctor, what is it? I can't tell you yet, Major. So far as I can tell, it's something new to science, and I'm not sure just what it looks like.

However, I hope to be able to show it to you shortly. Is there a telegraph office here? No, but we have a signal called, detachment with us, and they have a portable radio set which will put us in touch with the army nets. Good. Can you place a tent of my...

disposable. Yeah, certainly, doctor. All right, I'll go there, and I'd appreciate it if you'd send the radio operator to me. I want to send a message to the Bureau of Standards to forward me some apparatus which I need. I'll attend to it, doctor. You have any special advice to give me about the guarding? Yes, have you, or can you get any livestock? Livestock? Yeah, cattle preferred, although hogs or sheep will do it a pinch. Sheep will do quite well. I'll see what I can do, Doctor. Get them by all means, if it's possible to do so.

Don't worry about paying for them. Secret service funds are not subject to the same audit that the Army funds get. If you can locate them, drive a couple of cattle or half a dozen sheep well into the cave and tell of the other manner. If you don't get them, have your sentries posted well away from the cave mouth, and if any disturbance occurs during the night, tell them to break and run. Well, I hope we won't come out, but I can't tell for sure. A herd of cattle was soon located, and two of the beasts were driven into the cave. Two hours later, a series of horrible screams and bellowings were heard in the cave.

Following their orders, the sentries abandoned their posts and scattered, but the noise came no nearer to the mouth, and in a few minutes silence again rained. I hope that'll be all that will be needed for a couple of days, said the doctors of the commanding officer. but you'd better have a couple more cattle driven in in the morning. We want to keep the brute well fed. Now, is there a tank station to Fort Thomas?

No, there isn't. Then Radio Washington, and I want the fastest three-man tank that the army has sent here at once. Don't bother with military channels. Radio direct to the adjutant general, quoting the Secretary of the Treasury as authority. Tell them that it's a rush matter, and sign the message, Bird,

if you're afraid of getting your tail twisted. Twice more before the apparacious which the doctor had ordered from Washington arrived, cattle were driven into the depths of the cave, and twice more there were screams and bellowings from the cave, repeated. Each time, searching parties found the cattle gone in the morning. A week after the doctor's arrival, a special train came up,

carrying four mechanics from the Bureau of Standards, together with a dozen huge packing cases. Under the direction of the doctor, the cases were unpacked and the apparatus put together. Before the assembly had been completed, the tank, which had been requested, arrived from Camp Mead, and the Bureau mechanics began to install some of the assembled units in it. The first apparatus which was installed in the tank consisted of an electric generator of peculiar design which was geared to the tank motor. The electromagnotive force thus generated was led across a spark gap with points of metallic substance.

The light produced was concentrated by a series of parabolic reflectors, directed against a large quartz prism, and thence through a lens which was designed through a slightly divergent beam. This apparatus, Dr. Bird, explained to the signal corps officer, who was an interested observer, is one which was designed at the Bureau for a large-scale reduction of ultraviolet light. There's nothing special about the generator, except that it is highly efficient and gives an almost constant electromagnetic force. The current thus produced is led across these points, which are composed of magna alloy, a development of the bureau. We found on investigation that a spark gave out a light which was peculiarly rich in ultraviolet rays when it was passed between magnesium points. However, such points could not be used for the handling of a steady current because of lack

of durability and ease of fusion, so a mixture of graphite, allundum, and metallic menesium pressed together with a binder which will stand the heat. Thus we get the triple advantages of ultraviolet light production, durability and high resistance. The system of reflectors catches all of the light thus produced, except the relatively small portion which goes initially in the right direction, and directs it on this quartz prism where, due to the refractive powers of the prism, the light is broken up into its component parts. The infrared rays and that portion of the spectrum which lies in the visible range,

or that is, from red to violet inclusive, are absorbed by a black body, leaving only the ultraviolet portion free to send a beam through this quartz lens. I thought that a lens would absorb ultraviolet light, objected the signal officer. A lens made of glass well, but this lens is made of rock crystal,

which is readily permeable to ultraviolet. The net result of this apparatus is that we can direct before us as we move in the tank a beam of light which is composed solely of the ultraviolet portion of the spectrum. In other words, an invisible light. Yes, that is invisible to the human eye. The effect of this beam of ultraviolet light in the form of severe sunburn would be readily apparent if you expose your skin to it for any length of time,

and the effects on your eyesight of continued gazing would be apt to be disastrous. It produced a severe ophthalmia and temporary impairment of the vision, somewhat the same symptoms as are observed in snow-blindness. I see, um, I ask what is the object of the whole thing? Surely, before we can successfully combat this peculiar visitor from another world, it's necessary that we gain some idea of the size and appearance of it. Nothing of the sort has before made its appearance, so far as the animals of science go,

and so I'm forced to make some rather wild guesses at the nature of the animal. You're probably aware of the fact that the property of penetration possessed by all waves is a function of their frequency, or perhaps I should say, of their wavelength. Certainly. The longer rays of visible light will not penetrate as deeply into a given substance as the shorter ultraviolet rays. This visitor is evidently from some unexplored and, indeed, unknown cavern in the depths of the earth where visible light is never penetrated. apparently in this cavern the color of the inhabitants is ultraviolet and hence invisible to us you are beyond my depth doctor oh pardon me you understand of course what color is well when sunlight which is a mixture of all colors from infrared ultraviolet inclusive falls on an object certain rays are reflected and certain others are absorbed if the red rays are reflected and all others absorbed the light appears red to our eyes. If all the rays are reflected, the object appears white, and if all are absorbed, it appears black. Yeah, understand that. The human eye cannot detect ultraviolet. Suppose then that we have an object

either animate or inanimate, the surface of which reflects only ultraviolet eyes. What would be the result? The object would be invisible. I should think it would be black if all the rays except the ultraviolet were absorbed. I would, but, well, I didn't say the others were absorbed. Are you familiar with fluorescine? No. Well, I think you are.

It's the dye used in making changeable silk. If we fill a glass container with a fluorescentine solution and look at it by reflected light, it appears green. If we look at it by transmitted light, that is light which has traversed the solution, it appears red. So, in other words, this is a substance,

which reflects green light, allows a free passage to red light, and absorbs all other lights. Now, this creature that we're after, if my theory is correct, is composed of a substance which allows free passage to all the visible light rays and at the same time reflects ultraviolet light.

Do I make myself clear? Perfectly. Very well then. My apparatus will project forward a beam of ultraviolet light, which will be in much greater concentration than exists in incandescent electric light. It's my hope that this light will be reflected by the body of the creature

to a sufficient amount to allow me to make a photograph of it. But won't your lens prevent the ultraviolet light from reaching your place? Well, an ordinary lens made of optical glass would do so, but I have a camera here equipped with a rock crystal lens which will allow ultraviolet light to pass through it practically unhindered, and with very slight distortion. when I add that I'll have my camera charged with x-ray film, a film which is peculiarly sensitive to these shorter wavelengths,

you'll see that I'll have a fair chance of success. Well, it sounds logical. Would you allow me to accompany you when you make your attempt? I'll be glad of your company, if you can drive a tank. I want to take cars with me, and the tank will only hold two besides the driver. I can drive a tractor. In that case, you should master the tricks of tank driving in short order. Get familiar with it, and we'll appoint you as driver.

We'll be ready to go in tonight. But I'm going to wait a day. Our friend was fed last night, and there's less chance you'll be about. The early part of the next evening was marked by howls and screams coming from the mouth of the cave. As the night wore on, the noises were quite evidently coming nearer, and the sentries watched the cave mouth nervously, ready to bolt and scatter, according to their orders at the first alarm.

About 2 a.m., the doctor and Kahnz climbed into the tank beside Lieutenant Leffingwell, and the machine moved slowly into the cave. A searchlight on the front of the tank lighted the way for them, and attached to a frame which held it some distance ahead of them, was a luckless sheep. Keep your eyes on the mud and currents, caution the doctor.

as soon as anything happens to it shut off the searchlight and let me try to get a picture as soon as I have made my exposures I'll tell you and you can snap it on again Lieutenant when the picture's made turning a tank and make for the entrance of the cave if we're lucky I'll get out Forward the tank crawled

The sheep bleating and trying to break loose from the bonds which held it It was impossible to hear much over the roar of the motor but presently Dr. Bird leaned forward, his eyes shining. I smell musk, he announced. Get ready for action. Even as he spoke, the sheep was suddenly lifted into the air. He gave a final bleat of terror, and its head was torn from its body. Quick, Carnes, shouted the doctor.

The searchlight went out, and Carnes and the lieutenant could hear the slide of the ultraviolet light which Dr. Bird was manipulating open. For the next two or three minutes the doctor worked with his apparatus. All right, he cried suddenly. Lights on, get out of here. Kahn snapped on the searchlight, and Lieutenant Leffingwell swung the tank around and headed for the cave mills. For a few feet their progress was unhindered, and then the tank ceased its forward motion,

although the motor still roared and the track slid on the cave floor. Karns watched with horror as one side of the tank bent slowly in toward him. There was a rending sound and a portion of the heavy steel fabric was torn away. Dr. Bird bent over something on the floor of the tank. Presently he strained up and threw a small object into the darkness. There was a flash of light and bits of flaming phosphorus flew in every direction. The anchor which held the tank was suddenly loosed and the machine crawled forward at full speed, while a roar of escaping air mingled with a bellowing shriek, burdened the smoke-laden air.

Faster, cried the doctor, as he threw another grenade. Lieutenant Leffingwell got the last bit of speed possible out of the tank, and they reached the cave mouth without further molestation. I had an idea that our friend wouldn't care to pass through a fosher screen, said Dr. Bird with a chuckle as he climbed out of the tank. He must have been rather severely burned the other day, and once burned is usually twice shy. Where's Major Brown?

The commanding officer stepped forward. Drive a couple of cattle into the cave, please, Major. Directed Dr. Bird. I want to fill that brood up, keeping quiet for a while. I'm going to go and develop my films. Lieutenant Leffingwell and Kahn's peered over the doctor's shoulders as he manipulated his films in a developing bar. Gradually vague lines and blotches made their appearance on one of the

films but the form was indistinct dr bird dropped the films in a fixing tank and straightened up um we have something gentlemen he announced but i can't tell yet how clear it is it'll take those films 15 minutes to fix and then we'll know a quarter of an hour later he lifted the first film from the tank and held it to the light the film showed a blank with an exclamation of disappointment he lifted a second and third film from the tank with the same result. Then he raised the fourth one. Good Lord, gasped Cowans.

In the plate could be clearly seen the hind quarters of the sheep held in the grasp of such a monster as even the drug-laden brain of an opium smoker never pictured. Judging from the sheep, the monster stood at about 20 feet tall and its frame was surmounted by a head

resembling an overgrown frog. Enormous jaws were open to seize the sheep butt, to the amazement of the three observers, the jaws were entirely toothless. Where teeth were to be expected, long parallel ridges of what looked like bare bone appeared, without even a rudimentary segregation to teeth. The body of the monster was long and snake-like,

and was born on long, heavy legs, ending in feet with three long toes, armed with a vicious claws. The crowding horror of the creature was its forelegs. They were of enormous length, thin and attenuated looking, and ended in huge misshapen hands, knobbly and blotched, which grasped the sheep in the same manner as human hands. The eyes were as large as dinner plates,

and they were glaring at the camera with an expression of fiendish malevolence which make Khan's shudder. How does that huge thing ever go? get through that crack we examined, demanded the lieutenant. Dr. Bird rubbed his head thoughtfully. It's not an amphibian, he muttered, as is plainly shown by the shape of the limbs and the lack of a tail, and yet it appears to have scales of the true fish type. It corresponds to no recovered fossil, and I'm inclined to believe it is unique.

The nerve organization must be very low, judging from the lack of forehead and the general confirmation. It has enormous strength, and yet the arms look feeble. It can't get through that crack, insisted the lieutenant. Apparently not, replied the doctor. Wait a moment, though. Look at this. He pointed to the great disproportion between the length and diameter of the forelegs, and then to the hind legs. Either this is grave distortion, or there's something mighty strange about the comfort.

No animal could be constructed like that. He turned the film so that an oblique light fell on it. As he did so, he gave a cry of astonishment. Look here, he said sharply. It does get through that crack. Look at those arms and hands. There's the answer. This creature is tall and broad,

but from front to rear it can measure only a few inches. The same must be true of the frog-like head. That animal has been developed to live and move in a low-roofed cavern, and to pass through tiny openings only a few inches wide. His bulk is all in two dimensions. I believe you're right, said Kans as he studied the film. There is no doubt of it, answered the doctor. Look at those paws, too, Kans. That substance isn't bone, it's gum.

The thing is so young and helpless that it hasn't. doesn't cut its first teeth yet. It must be a baby. That's the reason why it made its way into the cave when no other of its kind ever has. How large are the full-grown ones if this is a baby? asked the lieutenant. Oh, the lord alone knows, replied Dr. Bird. I hope that I never have to face one and find out. Well, now we know what we're fighting. We ought to be able to settle this. High explosive, suggested the lieutenant. I don't think so. With such a low-nervous organization,

we would have to tear it practically to pieces to kill it, and I'm anxious to keep it from utilization for scientific study. I have an idea, but I'll have to study a while before I can be sure of the details. Send me the radio operator. The next day, the Bureau of mechanics began to dismount the apparatus from the tank and to assemble another elaborate contrivance. Before they'd made an end to the work, though, additional equipment had arrived from Washington,

which was incorporated into the new setup. At length, Dr. Bird pronounced himself ready for the attempt. Under his direction, three cattle were driven into the cave, and there tethered. They were there the next morning unharmed, but the second night the now familiar bellowing and howling came from the depths of the cave, and in the morning two of the cattle were gone.

That'll keep in quiet for a day or two, said the doctor. So now, to work. The tank made its way into the cave, dragging after it two huge cables which led to an engine-driven generator outside the cave. These cables were attached to the terminals of a large motor, which was set up in the cave near the place where the cattle were customarily tethered. This motor was the actuated.

force which turned two generators, one large and one small. The smaller one was mounted on a platform on wheels, which also contained the spark gaps, the reflectors and other apparatus which produced the beam of ultraviolet light which had been used to photograph the monster. From the larger generator led two copper bars. One of these was connected to a huge copper plate, which was laid flat on the floor of the cave. The other led to a platform which was erected on huge porcelain insulators some 15 feet above the floor. Huge condensers were set up on this platform, and Dr. Bird announced himself in readiness. The steer was dragged into the cave and up a temporary runway which led to the platform

containing the condensers, and there tied with a copper bus bar from the larger generator fastened to three flexible copper straps which led around the animal's body. when this was completed everyone except the doctor, Carnes and Lieutenant Leffingwell had left the cave these three crouched behind the searchlight which sent a mild beam of ultraviolet onto the platform where the steer was held the engine outside the cave was started and the three men waited with tense nerves and for several hours nothing happened the steer tried from time to time to move and finding it impossible set up plaintive bellows for liberty. I wish something would happen, muttered the lieutenant.

This is getting on my nerves. Something is about to happen, replied Dr. Burr grimly. Listen to that steer. The bellowing of the steer had suddenly increased in volume, and added to the note of discontent was a note of fright which had previously been absent. Dr. Bird bent over his ultraviolet searchlight and made some adjustments. He handed a helmet-like arrangement to each of his companions and slipped one over his own head. Can't see a thing, Doctor, said Kahn's in a muffled voice.

The objects at which you are looking absorb rather than reflect ultraviolet light, said the doctor. This is a sort of fluoroscope arrangement, and it isn't perfect at all. However, when the master comes along, I'm pretty sure that you'll be able to see it. You may see a little more as your eyes get accustomed. to it. I can see very dimly, announced the lieutenant. Dimly the walls of the cave

and the platform before them began to take vague shape. The three stared intently down the beam of ultraviolet light, which the doctor directed down the passageway leading deeper into the cave. Good Lord! said Khan suddenly. Slowly into the field of vision came the hideous

figure they'd seen on the film. As it moved forward, a rustle. slithering sound could be heard, even over the bellowing of the steer and the hum of the apparatus. The odor of musk became evident. Along the floor toward them the thing slid. Presently it reared up on its hind legs and its enormous bulk became evident. It turned somewhat sideways and the correctness of Dr. Bird's hypothesis as to its peculiar shape was proved. All of the bulk of the creature was in two dimensions.

forward it moved and the horrible human hands stretched forward while the mouth split in a wide toothless grin nearer the doomed steer the creature approached and then the reaching hands closed in on the animal there was a blinding flash and the monster was heard backward as though struck by a thunderbolt while a horrible smell of musk and burned flesh filled the air after it quick cried the doctor as he sprang forward. Before he could reach the prostrate creature, it moved, and then, slowly at first, but with rapidly gaining speed, it slivered over the floor in retreat. Dr. Bird's hand swung through an arc, and it was a deafening crash as a hand grenade exploded on the back of the fleeing monster. An unearthly scream came from the creature, and its motion changed from a steady

forward glide to a series of convulsive jerks. Leffingwell and Karns threw grenades, but they went wide of their mark, and the monster began the game to increase its speed. Another volley of grenades was thrown, and one hit scored, which slowed the monster somewhat, but did not arrest the steady forward movement.

Any more bombs? demanded the doctor. Damn, he cried as he received negative answers. the current wasn't strong enough. It's going to get away. Karns jerked his automatic from under his armpit and poured a stream of bullets into the fleeing monster. Slower and slower the motion of the creature became

and its movements again became jerky and convulsive. Keep it in sight, cried the doctor. We may get it yet. Cautiously the three men followed the retreating horror, lefting while pushing before him the platform holding the ultra-violet ray apparatus. The chase led them over familiar ground. There is, there's the crack, cried the lieutenant. Too late, replied the doctor.

He rushed forward and seized the lower limb of the monster and tried with all his strength to arrest its flight. But despite all that he could do, it slid sideways through the crack in the wall and disappeared. A final backward kick of its leg threw the doctor twenty feet against the far wall of the cave. Are you hurt, doctor?

cried Kans. No, I'm all right. Put on your masks and start the gas. Quick, that may stop it before it gets in too far. The three adjusted their gas masks and thrust the mouths of two gas cylinders which were on the light truck into the crack and opened the valve.

The hissing of the gas was accompanied by a thrashing, writhing sound from the bowels of the earth. But after a few minutes the sound retreated and finally died away into an utter silence. And that's that, cried the doctor, half an hour later, as they took off their gas masks outside the cave. He got away from us. Garant, how soon can we get a train back to Washington? what kind of a report are you going to make to the bureau, doctor? Asked Carnes as they sat in the smoker of a southern train, headed for the capital. Well, I'm not going to put in any report, Carnes, replied the doctor.

I haven't got the creature or any part of it to show, and no one would believe me. I'm going to maintain a discreet silence about the whole matter. But you have your photograph to show, Doctor, and you have my evidence and Lieutenant Leffingwell. The photograph might have been faked, and I might have doped both of you. In any case, your words are no better than mine. No, indeed, Corrin's, when I failed to make the current strong enough to kill it outright, I made the first of the moves which bide me to silence, although I thought that 200,000 volts would be enough.

The second failure I made was when I missed him with my second grenade, although I doubt if all six would have stopped him. My third failure is when we failed to get a sufficient concentration of cyanide gas into that hole in a hurry. The thing is so badly crippled that it will die, but it may take hours or even days for it to do so. It's already made its way so far into the earth that we couldn't reach it by blasting without danger of bringing the whole place down on our heads. Even if we could blast our way into the place it came from, I wouldn't dare open a path which would allow Lord only knows what terrible monsters to invade the earth. earth. When the soldiers have finished stopping that crack with ten feet of solid masonry, I think the barrier will hold, even against that critters, Papa and Mama, and all its

relatives. And then Mammoth Cave will be safe for visitors again. Well, that latter fact is the only report which I will make. Well, there's one hell of a story to go to waste, said Kans soberly. I'll tell her then, if you wish, and get laughed at for your pains. No, Kans. You must learn one thing. A man like Bolton, for instance, will implicitly believe that a four-leaf clover in his watch charm will bring him good luck, and the carrying a buckeye keeps rheumatism away from him. But tell him a sober fact like this, attested to by three reliable witnesses and a good photograph, and you'll just get laughed at for your pains.

Well, I'm going to keep my mouth shut. So be it then. replied Kars with a sigh, where the caterpillars die, Fear is only as deep as the mind allows. That was my mother's favourite idiom. Growing up, she never hesitated to use it against my childish fits, whether I was upset about sleeping alone in my bed

or trying to convince her there was an ony in the closet. It's what she lived by, even as the cancer finished eating her lungs. When the light in her eyes disappeared, I grew to loathe every single. syllable of that idiom, burning with a blistering hatred. I knew that I would never hear it spoken in her voice again, and it became a cruel reminder of change, and yet, without it, I wouldn't have survived the horror I'm about to share. It's funny, though, how something you've rejected for half your life can turn out to be the

only thing holding you together. So when I was 13, three months after Mom's passing, my father told me I'll be going to Akita to stay with my uncle during Dad's Marine exhibition in Hokkaido I wanted to die well not literally of course only about as much as I wanted to die

in the dentist chair before the needle slid into my gums but this pain wasn't going to be a quick pinch and it was going to last for the next week I wasn't seeing Uncle Horri I was dreading though it was my cousin Sota Dad's cell phone rang

Moshi Moshi, yes Pulling in now Okay A fair size Two-story home with a thatch roof Came into view It fit perfectly with the other picturesque houses

In this secluded community Straddle by deciduous forests A slate path of stepping-stone stretched to the front door When my uncle waited A woman stood next to him Probably the new girlfriend dad had mentioned She was wearing a Nordic grey sweater

"'About time,' Horrie called to us as we pulled ourselves out of the car. "'Did you get lost or something?' "'My father closed the door. "'Or maybe if someone knew the specifics of their address better. "'Learn to listen better,' Horry jeered at my father, exaggerating a smile. "'Now, where is my yuki?' "'Hi, Uncle Horry.' "'I grabbed my bag from the trunk and walked over,

"'while his arms wove around me in a tight hug. He then gestured to the woman next to him. Yuki, this is Hina. Hina Otori. She nodded her head at me and extended her hand. I smiled and shook it. Her black hair was very short and complimented her young features. Oh, it's nice to finally meet you, she said with an ivory white smile.

You'll be staying on the upper floor, second door on the left, Rory said. Sauter's room will be right next to it, so go say hi to him. I wandered upstairs and found the guest room while my father caught up with his brother-in-law. Although my uncle and his ex-wife had separated months ago, the room still had Aunt Marquis' decor scheme, a tiny space full of bright, vivid colours and furniture that screamed dollhouse for a special touch. I imagined an unblinking eye peering in around the flurry curtains and shuddered. The entire house had probably looked like this at some point before the divorce was finalised.

I plop my bag on the tatami floor mat and sighs. One week, my thoughts groaned. It's just a week, right? The door beside mine was the restroom, which had a sign on the door. Broken, use other downstairs, mid-red. Next to what was most likely Sauter's room. I stepped up to the door and stood there for a bit. I knew that it would be rude to not at least say hi to him,

but I couldn't help hesitating. My cousin wasn't a rude or overbearing person, but his obsessions worried me. We're both going to be 14 this March. Our birthday is precisely a week apart. The majority of my memories of growing up with him involved his eerie fascination with insects. At family gatherings, he'd often be outside interacting with creepy, crawly little things that he could catch. But Sota wasn't the kind of kid who enjoyed pulling off bugs' limbs or pitting them against each other in a plastic container deathmatch. he preferred to treat them as friends. He gave them names, voices, different personalities.

All he was missing were tiny clothes. And, uh, well, he collected insects. I ran from them. That was the gaping chasm that separated us. I didn't doubt that his latest collection of new friends waited for me behind his door. I'll pop in, say hello, and pop out, my thoughts. As I was about to knock, I had a muffled conversation on the other side. Sota was already talking to someone. Just as I decided to say hello later, he said, Come in! I did so and shut the door behind me.

The inside was dark, very dark, save for the bright laptop screen outlining a seated body. A few streaks of sunlight peeking around the floral curtains. You can turn on the light, he said, with distracted. awareness. Sure, your majesty, I sighed, flicking the light switch. After the darkness melted away, I saw the hanging scroll paintings and mounted pieces of calligraphy that covered his walls. As expected, several diagrams of different insects' anatomies joined them. A frame picture of Aunt Markey sat on his desk. Situated on a table below his window was a miniature cherry blossom tree with missing branches. Sharing the space next to it was a foreboding glass to

Arrarium. Upon hearing my voice, he turned to look at me. Oh, hey, he said quietly, rolling towards me on the chair's castor wheels. We gave each other a light, two-second hug, and then he returned to his laptop to shut it off. I saw you pull in, I wasn't sure when you'd gone by. My shrugned. You sounded like you were already talking to someone. Oh, that was just my mom, he replied in the same monotone. She skypes me from her trip whenever she has time.

Where is she? I asked. Europe. She's touring France right now. Oh. He suddenly cried with spontaneous eagerness, catching me off guard. Do you want to meet someone? He rolled his chair toward the window and ushered me to follow. He was no doubt referring to the glass container. It was pop in, pop out.

My thoughts reminded me. Pop in and pop out. At that moment I wanted to tell him I wasn't interested, but the words never reached my mouth. Didn't take much to hurt, sort of. His feelings were like pieces of peppermache living in a world of knives. Instead, a measly, sure, wafted out of me. I'd feel awful destroying that ray of excitement on his face within the first five minutes. As long as I didn't have to touch anything, there was no immediate problem.

As I joined him at the window, repulsive. images were already firing off in my head. A spider outweighing my hand with its hairy limbs, a mantis with those alien claws folded in prayer to thank the evil gods for giving it wings, horrible things like that. I looked down, peaked inside and saw a horrible, enormous, nothing. The missing branches of the cherry blossom were planted in a patch of black soil. Can you see her? he asked eagerly. I finally did. Attached to one of the brittle stems was a worm-like thing, but no worm I'd ever seen before.

This looked much worse. His bloated, squishy skin was black and orange with a dark, pointy tail. Four spindles protruded from its backside like black curling tendrils. Goose pumps puffed up my arms. Fear is only as deep as the mind allows. My thoughts repeated reluctantly. her name is kodami she's a brahman caterpillar so to load his finger an inch from its chewing mandibles when she turns into a moth she could have a wingspan of up to seven inches how do you know she's a she i mumbled i just do he shrugged you want to hold her they don't bite no no i'm good i said promptly backing away just the thought of that thing's rippling

squishy mass touching my skin made me want to die again. I tried to think of anything I could say to change the subject. So, um, what do you think of Hina? I asked. His smile melted. Dark cloudiness replaced the enthusiastic look. He bit deeply into the skin of his bottom lip. It was clear I had accidentally struck a nerve. Before I had the chance to apologize, he answered me. I don't know. "'M'm isn't going to like her when she comes back, though.' "'Well, I wasn't sure what he meant by that. "'You mean, after her trip?' "'You look right through me and tightened the left side of his face into a smirk.

"'Yeah, after her trip. "'I finished unpacking and waved my father goodbye "'as he left for his new venture, "'leaving me to sulk over mine. "'I spent the rest of the day killing as much time as possible "'with the books and handheld games that I brought. "'And that wasn't enough to sedate. me, I'd wander around the tea garden in the backyard.

I slept well that night and thankfully did not wake up to an eye watching me sleep through the windows. When morning came, I went to the kitchen. Hina was there standing over a purple kettle. Good morning, Yuki, she said, flashing that same ivory smile. Breakfast isn't ready, I'm afraid. Care for some Oolong while you wait. Oh, thank you. I took a seat at the table.

The aroma of dry-roasted, leaves graced my nose. She poured some tea into a mug and placed it in front of me. Your uncle always likes a hot batch waiting for him when he wakes up. It's the only tea he ever asked for. I blew on it, slurps him up, and then gasped. Oh, burn yourself, she asked. I looked at my dark reflection in the brew. The complex woody flavour mixed nicely with a subtle, creamy nuttiness. It wasn't perfect, but it was close. For a moment, I felt happy. But in the next moment, I felt sad. Oh, I'm sorry, it's just my mum used to make her tea similarly. It was her special touch. And who do you think showed her how? My uncle said, strolling in while Heena

preemptively handed him a cup. He smacked a quick kiss on her cheek. I blinked at him. But Mum said she had a secret method. Well, he grinned at me. She may have perfected it, but I'm the one who gave her the idea, mind you. I don't think ours will ever be as good as hers, though. His grin faded. Sauta then walked in and poked his head into the fridge. Hey, kiddo.

His father greeted him. How did you sleep? Gina asked. He didn't answer, just muttered under his breath. Would you like a cup of a... No, he interrupted. interrupted audaciously. Sauta, or he said, uncharacteristically stern.

His son gave him a passing glance and returned to the stairs, leaving an invisible heaviness behind. Sorry about that, he told me, pressing and massaging his left temple. I took another sip of tea. Later that same day, Sauta wanted to show me one of the nature trails near their house. If anything, I figured it would help the day pass a little faster. Orr his only condition was for us to be back before sunset, or we go to sleep hungry. Luckily, the day still have plenty of its golden hours left,

just in case he made us take the tactical flashlight that he kept in the garage. We followed the neighbourhood's gently sloping hill, which quickly led us to the park. Behind its empty playground was the trail entrance, a boardwalk that cut through the old growth forest. The cold breeze sighed between the beech tree canopies. Sauter whistled every time he heard it. The wooden path brought us to a bridge hovering over a small creek. The moss floating over the surface smelled like wet fertilizer,

the kind of janitor used on the school lawn, only much more pungent. Before I had a chance to cross, Sauta's hand clamped over my wrist. I want to show you something cool. His eyes suddenly had that electric eagerness again. What is it? I asked cautiously. In one swift movement, he leaped over the wooden railing and walked headfirst into the foliage. Come on, his voice whipped back at me. Really? I groaned angrily, and sluggishly follows.

What else was I supposed to do? The sheer lack of a distinct path to follow made me nervous. But it appeared he was following the creek. Some gangly saplings crunched under my shoes. No matter how many times I tried to coax him back to the trail, all I get was one of his whistles harmonising with the wind. We came across an abandoned railroad track.

It was, for the most part, buried beneath a bed of weeds. Whatever root its ancient metal and wooden tithes had once followed now belonged to the underbrush. A rusted rail spike was jutting from its iron harness like a snap bone. I thought that this was maybe the cool thing my cousin wanted to show me until he stepped over it and continued. The treetop-top thickets above it. darkened the area. Less and less sunlight slipped through. Piles of dead leaves were everywhere,

the occasional bell-shaped mushroom poking out of them. The trees here were different too. Their bark was covered in sunken dead cankers. Slimy brown ooze leaked out of them like pus from a popped zit. The visual made me cringe. I didn't like it here. It was cold. It was different. The air felt stale and damp. "'Here,' sort of said merrily, finally breaking the awful silence. The Tory gate stood over us, the sort of gate you'd find leading into a Shinto shrine. Its large structure was held flimsily together with decaying wood. The horizontal crossbar connecting both pillars had a tablet caiting slime mould in its centre,

impossible to read. It was honestly a miracle the gate was still standing. beyond it was a set of rocky steps covered in fuzzy orange clusters that led up the hill in a disorganized max i found this place two months ago don't bother asking how i did just happened it's where i met kadami your caterpillar i asked to which he nodded i clamped my nose shut to keep out the musty smell of wet socks and rotting cedar okay you showed me can we head back now "'Not yet,' he answered, and began hiking up the rocky steps towards the top of the hill. I followed, losing my footing a few times on loose patches of dirt. Situated atop the incline was a large dead tree. A clamber to the top and joined him.

The foul odor infecting the air was stronger up here. He pointed at something in front of us. A sculpture stood at the foot of the lonesome tree. It was clearly of a naked woman, roughly the same height as one too. Her copper skin was dark and coated with a film of green residue. Spiny black catkins with red and black spindles covered the majority of her body. A disturbingly thin neck was bent to the side as though broken.

Not just that, but her mouth was opening a tooth bearing grimace that displayed a set of uncomfortably realistic teeth and guns. Her tight skeleton-like arms were digging their fingers into her chest, portraying great agony. Watch this, Sota whispered. He clutched a small rock and then tossed it at the woman's leg. The rock clacked loudly against it.

The sculpture's skin started to move, wriggling and squirming with life. The slim, spiny objects I'd mistaken for catkins were caterpillars, swarms of them, all writhing over each other in tight, jerking clumps. They wormed out of her eyes, her open mouth, her ears everywhere nightmares could reach. I staggered back and fell over,

nearly sending myself spine first down the hill. My heart leaped into my throat. My muscles tensed and refused to move. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I wanted to run, but I couldn't. All I could do was let the deafening static wash out my thoughts. The static always came when the fear started to blossom. I couldn't turn to any fight or flight instinct buried within. I could only freeze. Each your hard out natural selection. Prarming caterpillars, every last one. Sota muttered. They all come to the sculpture, lots and lots of them, but none become moths. They just die sooner or later. He wasn't wrong. The ground at the woman's feet was riddled with their dry, deflated bodies. "'Kadami didn't want to be here.

"'She wanted to come home with me.' "'His eyes then scanned the small corpses. "'What kind of caterpillar never wants to fly someday?' "'He sighed and then lifted his sleeve to itch his arm. "'Something was written on his skin. "'But before I could read it, he tugged his sleeve back down. "'He turned to me and smiled wildly. "'It's getting dark. We can head back now.

"'We made it home just. before the peak of sunset. Hina was cooking tapaniaki. The cornerstone of our love, said Uncle Horry. Unfortunately, she didn't join us to eat any of it afterward, which sort of seemed cheerful about. For the last few weeks, Hina had been experiencing spontaneous episodes of feeling unwell.

Sometimes she felt better in minutes, and other times it took hours. The food looked great, but my appetite had shriveled up and crawled away. I couldn't stop thinking about the woman, the horrible woman, drowning in a living, wriggling coat. I tried to push the thought back. Useless, that god-awful image wasn't going anywhere. Later that night, I dreamed that I was back there, standing in the abandoned shrine. The woman's grimy face and broken neck faced me. Her mouth started to move.

Yuki, a hushed voice said. "'Where are you, Yuki?' The voice was cruelly familiar. I gasped. "'Mom?' "'Yes, Yuki,' she whispered and crooned. "'Oh, I miss you.' "'Mom!' I screamed and ran to her.

The ground squelched and clung to my souls like thick, muddy pools. The face staring at me was no longer the pain-infused face of the woman. It was mom. Her neck wasn't broken, and she was smiling. I want to move, view, keeper. My legs won't bend, she said softly to me. Will you help me move again? I wrap my arms around her cold metal skin.

Yes, please come home. Please come back to me, I screamed, unable to wipe the cascading tears. Her mouth elongated, and a flurry of brahaming caterpillars slithered out. and they engulfed her swallowing her body up into a twitching silhouette. Will you help me, Yuki? I'll do anything, I wept, just come back. Mommy will come home, but first you must let me in. Let me breathe again, let me move again, let me inside.

Yes, I blubbered, thoughtlessly digging my hands into the mesh of lava and pulling out two meaty handfuls. They struggled and jerked in my grip. All at once I forced them into my mouth. Their flexible, squishy bodies pop between my teeth. Their spindles cut into my gums and the roof of my mouth like a dentist's needles. Bitter, slimy flavors covered my tongue as I choked them down. I startled myself awake, looking wildly around for a few blurry seconds.

No shrine, no caterpillars, just cold sweat in a miserably tight bladder. I climbed out of bed and walked next door. The pleasjews downstairs sign was mocking me. Still not fully awake, I grogily stepped downstairs and crossed through the dining room to reach the West bathroom. After relieving myself, I washed my hands and headed back. But this time, I froze. The lights were on.

Hina was sitting on her knees at the dinner table. It had to have been two or three in the morning by then. "'Why is she up so early?' I thought. "'I passed by her, intending to apologize if I'd woken her up. "'Something wasn't right. "'She was doubled over the short table, "'blowing out deep, concentrated breaths, "'and the blue sleeves of her jimbe hung loosely from her wrists.

"'Her neck was bent, and her shoulders were hunched and locked stiff. "'A black pool of sumi ink had been spilled on the table "'with a pungent, sickly sweet odour. She was dipping her fingers into it, a slopply writing on her left arm, repeating the same characters again and again. Offering! I leaned towards her. Is everything all right? She abruptly twisted toward me.

Her sleepless eyes were bloodshot and rapidly rolling around in their sockets, utterly independent of each other. Kik, she croaked through a grimacing toothy smile. The wall touched my spine, before I realized I was backing up. Hina stood up, and her neck slumped to the side and hung there. She turned to me, eyes swiveling like a chameleons, streaks of saliva slipping down her chin, and slowly approached. Her legs seemed rigid as she clumsily forced them to bend, like a puppet learning how they work.

I pressed further against the wall, wishing I could fade away into it, my mind was saying run but my muscles rejected the order the static was taking control just scream my thoughts echoed wake someone up just scream her wet fingers grasped my wrist she leaned forward her musty breath smelling like old used-up mothballs and pressed a finger against her lips She let go of me and trudged awkwardly to the front door, where she disappeared into the night. My trembling legs dropped me to the floor. Well, not sure how long I sat there, trying to take back control of my sporadic gasping and disabled motor functions. Once I was able to feel my legs again, I rushed into Horri's room, nearly giving him a heart attack in the process. What is going on?

He jumped up in a drowsy panic. I told him what had happened, showing my wrist, smeared with black fingerprints. He pulled himself up and wandered into the dining room. The black pool of spilled ink was coagulating on the table. Ori reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and dialed a number into it. From the front door came the vibrating, z-z-z-d of a cell phone on the floor. He in his cell phone. He picked it up and glanced at me, concerned.

Did she take the car? Before I could answer, he was already checking the garage. The car was unmoved. I heard him curse under his breath. I'm going to take a look around. Stay here in case she comes back, all right? I nodded to him and sat on the chairs while he got dressed and headed out with the flashlights. He'd come back shortly after, flustered and empty-handed.

She isn't anywhere close by. Let me make a quick call. The call was to the police. An officer came by shortly after the call. his barrel-shaped chest protruded out of his dark blue uniform he had dry scabby lips that screamed for chapstick my uncle talked with him while i waited in the kitchen washing the ink off with a wet cloth i idly wondered if i should wake sotter but decided not to the officer came in and asked me questions one after the other how do you feel about your uncle's girlfriend has she ever acted differently around you has she ever told you about you about you about you any secret? Well, I answered him as best I could. He smacked his chap lips together and finalized his notes about Heena's physical description and the jimbe she was wearing.

Given the circumstances, we aren't able to conduct a search for an adult who just doesn't wish to be home. I can hold on to the information you've given me for the time being. If you've not heard anything for at least 24 hours, or have any reason to fear for her safety, we can provide more assistance, please keep us informed. He bowed and returned to the park cruiser. We watched him drive off. Uncle Horrie looked at me. Get some sleep, Yuki. I'm sure she'll turn up in the morning. I nodded to him, I went to bed, where I laid for hours staring at the ceiling. As exhausted as I was, my mind had no intention of resting. I called my father, who answered groggily. I told him what had happened and how scared I was.

He promised to cut his Hokkaido exhibition short and said he'd get me the day after tomorrow. Twenty-four hours never felt farther away. I was scared, not quite sure what to do with myself. Why had Hina written on her arm? What was wrong with her eyes? What was happening in this house? The next morning the cold breeze from the day before

had brought an overcast grey sky, or he was making Oolong tea alone in the kitchen. He didn't say too much, his look of exhausted defeat said enough in itself. Sleep must have been scares for him also. Soto was in the backyard, seated in the garden. His elbow was lifted and pointed outward as though striking an invisible person. He was giggling and talking out loud, a jaunty ear-to-ear grin radiating from his face.

I thought he was talking to himself at first, before spying the glass terrarium in his lap and the caterpillar's four spindles crawling across his arm. I can't believe it, he sniggered quietly. I just can't believe it, Codham. We didn't hear from Hina that day. Nothing but silence through the morning, noon and evening. All we could do was wait while the pale clouds wafted over us.

Despite this sort of's upbeat attitude never left him. He was joking. smiling and perkier than usual i'd never seen his spirits higher it wasn't right and it also didn't seem real he was hiding something and for both horrie and heena's sakes i had to find out what it was before tomorrow around sundown hoary left for another drive around the neighborhood another attempt to find her it was now or never just as i was about to tap on sorter's door I heard him talking on the other side. I pressed my ear to the frame and listened intently.

Don't understand, he said softly. It's okay now. Your trip can be over. The distressed weight lowered his voice. Another voice replied, too quiet and distorted to make out clearly, but I was almost certain I heard the word complicated. There was a bang on the table. I don't care, he cried.

I did this for you, so why can't you do this for me? You need to be here. Dad needs you here. More distorted words. More complicated. His voice rose to a volley of incoherent screams. There was another loud thump and muffled sombing. No more talking.

The discussion must have been over. I creaked open the door, slid inside, and gently closed it. The room was dark and the laptop's white void screen. once again blinded me. Curled up on the bed, where the light couldn't reach, was a vaguely outlined body. A desk chair lay on the floor, probably thrown there. Was that your mother? I asked quietly. No, answer.

I scooped up the desk chair and planted myself next to him. Whenever I was upset, my mum would tell me to cheer up before my face got stuck that way. The dark lump that was my cousin didn't move. His stifled sniffling sounded in the sheets. Come on, just talk to me, okay? I did everything right, he spoke faintly. Everything right, everything the woman said to do, and it still isn't working. And she said it would, so why isn't it?

I rolled the castor wheels closer, reminding myself of one of those psychiatrists you see on TV. What woman? The woman in my dreams, he said. rolling over to face me. His eyes were wide and drenched with tears, blotches of light reflected off his wet pupils. She came because I brought Kodami here. That's how you let her in, through the caterpillars. She said Hina would leave and mum would come back. She's real, Huky. I've seen her.

I didn't like the seriousness in his voice. The look in his eyes was both real and terrifying. I mean, sure, there was living in your own world where bugs had voices, and their own personalities, but this was different. This was the real world, where people went missing. It was just a dream you had, probably from that creepy place. I had one, too. Listen, if you know what happened to Hina or where she is, you have to tell me. Abruptly, in a whirlwind of speed, he leaped out of bed and paced around.

Words in flaky, dried ink, were written down his right arm. Hina, Otori. "'Curse! "'The woman is a liar. "'Why didn't it work? "'She came because of Kodami, "'so if I take Kodami back home, "'then maybe she will leave two.'

"'He dashed to the glass case "'and scooped it up in his arms. "'I can fix this.' "'And then he bolted for the door. "'I grabbed his shoulder and tried to yank him back. "'Wait, wait, you need to calm it—' "'Something struck me in the head. "'It took me a moment.

went to realize it was his elbow. Pain throbbed in my temple and blood rushed to the forming goose egg. My knees buckled and dropped me to the floor. I could hear the sound of feet pattering and swinging open the front door. Hot tears left dark blotches on my shirt. I thought about Hina, I thought about Ulong tea, and I thought about Mom. I'm sorry, I blubbered pitifully to myself. felt like I was losing her all over again that stupid idiom bounced around my aching skull and I wanted to tell it to shut up why was I even crying

sort of said he'd come right back but what if he doesn't I blinked my eyes both marinating in tears but what if he doesn't here I was crying my eyes out while he was going to that awful place all alone no I couldn't let something happen to him I couldn't let Horry lose him too.

I reached into my pocket and called Horri's sulphur. It rang emptily and delivered me to the voicemail. A few more attempts, same result. Of course, why not? I thought sorely. I texted him a message filled with misspellings and panic. Well, he'd read it eventually and it'd probably give him a heart attack, but it was all I could think to do.

Before any more regretful thoughts could sprout up, I grabbed his tactical flashlight from the garage and rushed through the front door. I raced down the sloping street to beat the sundown clock. I'd find Sauter and bring him back. Then there'd be no more need for hysterics. Well, I hope so anyway. I crossed the empty playground and reached the trail entrance. As much as I tried to fight them back, poisonous thoughts were still breaking through the monsoon.

wriggling caterpillars all over her skin I pressed on trying to ignore them a slender broken neck the damp mossy smell hit me when I reached the bridge that grimacing open mouth those real looking teeth both my hands gripped the wooden railing let me in Yuki let me in

shrap already I mumbled to the ugly thoughts and hopped over. If not for the creek, I've completely lost my sense of direction. Everything looked the same, especially with so little sunlight breaking through the canopies. It was only going to get darker from here. Something metallic crunched under my shoe. I reached the abandoned railroad track.

Still no sign of him, though. He must have already crossed. Something also felt different about the tracks, like something was missing, regardless I pushed forward The forest was losing what little light it had left from the day My eyes were playing tricks on me Meshing the branches and shrubs into monstrous shapes Then I saw Sotter hunched over against a tree

He was breathing heavily clearly exhausted from the run here He pressed the glass terrarium carrying his precious cargo into his side I quickly caught up with him Are you done running away now He didn't raise his head. No, I... I still need to... I still need to take Kadami back there.

I rest of my hand on his shoulder. It's getting dark. Your dad's going to be worried about us. Do you think he needs that on his plate too? Please, Yuki. He lifted his red, weary face. A thread of spittle dangled from his mouth. Just let me do this first.

I have to do this. Then we can come. go back, okay? Why don't squish the thing and be done with it? He shook his head. She'll come back. I don't know how, but I know she will. I took her out of that place. Now I have to take her back. I sighed deeply. I thought of wrestling him all the way back to the trail and then dragging him back home sounded miserable. It'll be quick, right? Yes, he said with exasperated relief and started walking again. I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't mean to.

It's all right. I'll just have to get you back for it later. The Shrine Gate, in all its decrepit glory, was waiting for us. That pungent, rotting smell was back, floating through the air. It had gotten worse somehow. The earthy wet sock smell

had intensified to an outhouse full of mouldy meat. I'm going to wait here. You go do it and come back. I don't want to see that thing again, I said, clamping my nose shut. Before he took another step, we heard a sound, the crackling of dead leaves being repeatedly crunched. Footsteps, coming closer. A set of fingers curled themselves over one of the gates supporting pillars

and pulled a trudging body forward. It was Heena, slugging towards us with unbalanced steps. her bare feet caked with grime the seams on her dirt-stained jimbe split to the point that it was virtually falling off of her her head swayed limply on her shoulders stretched across her face was that ugly twisted smile and those eyes they were still twisting freely in their sockets

things were moving all over her clusters of spindly caterpillars scrambling endlessly across her body before I even realized it the crippling fear had already squeezed between my joints my heart rattled around in my rib cage trying to burst its way to freedom sort of step forward and dropped to his knees in front of her he was saying something but it was difficult to hear anything over the deafening static

sorry take back didn't want this he in a clenched a handful of his hair when he screamed and struggled in her grip, dropping Kadami's terrarium into the dirt. She breathed stiffly and croaking moans that sounded like from behind her back her other arm lifted. Brandished between her dirt cake fingers was a rusted train spike.

I stood there, succumbing to paralysis. My thoughts couldn't free themselves. I was losing myself to the static. This isn't real. It's just a bad dream. No, it isn't. I'm somewhere else. Somewhere safe.

No, you aren't. A scream broke through. Is that sorter? Yes. Someone's hurting him. Yes. I have to help. Then you're going to have to move.

Before even realising it, I'd fired into a sprint. The day's muscles in my legs were pumping like steam-powered machinery. I was scared, absolutely terrified, but it didn't matter. I was moving. My mother's idiom rang off the walls of my skull, guided by her voice. Fear is only as deep as the mind allows. I swung the tactical flashlight. Its toothed head met Hina's face and splattered a caterpillar on her cheek into a blue, green paste. Her neck swung back with a loud grunt. Although she was a loud grunt, although she was a little, She stumbled a bit, her finger still clenched Sauta's hair. Three bloody wheels opened on her still smiling face.

Put her back! Sota yelled, batting at Hina with his small fists. Put Kudomi back! All rationality was gone. Maybe he was right. Perhaps everything would turn back to normal. The terrarium was lying on its side. I ran toward it and shone the flashlight inside. The caterpillar was crawling along the tipped black soil. I took the flashlight into my pocket and cupped the small thing in my hands. I couldn't believe what I was doing, the feeling of its small, grubby legs tickling my palms and shivers up my spine. As I ran for the gate, Hina swayed in my direction. Her fingers unhooked from Soda's hair, and she hurled herself at me with a shocking burst of speed.

I started up the slope, doing everything in my power to ignore the harsh, throaty sounds behind me and the tickling sensation between my palms. The hand locked around my ankle, I tumbled forward into the dirt. When I looked back, Hina's eyes were no longer rolling. They were dead set on me. Her arm rose, displaying the rust-coated spike. I screamed, trying to kick my free leg at her, but my awkward position. on the slope made it difficult.

She struck with the spike. I forced my body to roll to the side. My ankle, her hand still clamped around it, popped. Sparks flew as the train spike struck one of the stone steps. Tight, searing pain resonated from my ankle up to my leg. She made a guttural, cackling sound and hoisted the spike again. But this time Soto was behind her. the glass terrarium held over his head.

He smashed it over her, sending a fine spray of glass and grime everywhere. Her grip slackened, just enough for me to escape. I pushed off my elbows and got back to my feet. I trekked the rest of the way up the hill, fighting through the sharp pain in my ankle. The sculpture was waiting for me below the lonesome, rotting tree. Its frozen grimace matched Heenas perfectly, only this time there wasn't a single caterpillar on its filmy green skin. Hina tromped up the hill as I staggered towards a sculpture.

I wasn't sure what to expect. Would this even do anything? A horrible, guttful scream came out of her as I forced the caterpillar between the sculpture's realistic teeth and into its coppery gullet. The train spike slipped from Hina's hands. She took a few weak steps and fell limply to the ground like a filthy rat. doll. The numerous caterpillar she was wearing all toppled off of her and curled into unmoving ovals. Her collapsed. My swelling ankle couldn't handle any more. So to help me back up, supporting me with

my arm over his shoulder. I'm sorry. He was weeping uncontrollably. I'm still not sure if he was apologising to Heena or me. We left her behind with the sculpture and the caterpillar. pillars, who worshipped it no more. Just as we staggered out of the trail's entryway, we saw Horry in the parking area, speaking to the same barrel-chested officer as before, most likely because of my message. He quickly spied us and dashed from the officer to meet us halfway. He ruled us into a tight embrace. What happened? Is everything all right? I'm so sorry I didn't answer your calls.

The officer followed shortly after. My cousin and I looked at each other with the same adult uncertainty. The aftermath of everything had left our minds haggard and broken. Even I wasn't sure what exactly the truth of what happened was. We found her in the forest, sort of said quietly, to the man with the chap lips, a tear trailing down his cheek. I know where she is. I can take you there.

an ambulance and a few other officers arrived at the scene. Both Sauta and his father accompanied them back into the woods while I stayed with one of the EMTs to have my ankle treated. They gave me some ice and wrapped it in an elastic brace. After some time, everyone returned. Horrie was wearing a face I'd never seen before, a dazed, foggy stare, like a ghost trying to remember how to feel. They asked him to remove us from the scene,

and to return home for the night. Maybe in touch. The drive home was long and quiet. We pulled into the driveway, walked into the house, and quietly went to our beds. No one said a word. I wanted to say something or anything, but absolutely nothing could clear that troubled air.

None of us were going to find sleep that night. I kept the closet light on. It provided some comfort from the shadows that were continually morphing into an upraised arm, waiting to pierce my heart with its rusted spike. When the sun rose again, I started packing my things. Now and then I died the window, expecting to see my father's car pull up at any moment.

I heard someone crying downstairs. The kitchen was empty, but the crying came from the connecting hallway. Horrie was standing there facing the wall, his face buried in his forearm. I could tell he was doing his best to stifle the sounds, but failing miserably. There had to be something I could do, but what? An idea struck. I hobbled to the purple kettle.

When he came into the kitchen, a cup of oolong tea was waiting for him on the table. He looked at me, puzzled at first, but then he gave me a subtle smile. I watched as he picked up the drink, blew on the steaming liquid, and sipped it. He suddenly winced. It was probably the poor taste. Sorry, I'm a lousy tea-maker. I shook my head. No, no, he said, waving his fingers at me.

It just called me off guard how familiar the taste is. It's perfect. My dad eventually pulled into the driveway. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to give Sauter a proper goodbye through his locked bedroom door. It was later released that Hina Autori was found dead at the scene. But according to pathology reports, her time of death was the night she disappeared, the same night she'd walked out the front door. The next time I saw Sota

was at the memorial service held for Hina. For the most part, he disregarded me, every so often granting me a passive glance. It wasn't until the end that he pulled me aside and started talking. Everything has gone, he said in a rattled, trembling voice. There was no gate. There was no sculpture. Only Hina and the weapon. Where did everything go, Yuki? Was it because of the adults I brought? Is the woman somewhere else now, looking for someone else to let her out of that sculpture? Well, I didn't have any answers for him. How could I have? We both felt crazy. We probably were both crazy, but there was no denying the horrors we'd witnessed that night. They were real.

Sickeningly real. Something tried to stop us from returning to that sculpture. The nightmares that followed were constant, almost every night. That place haunted me. The Tori Gate choked with slime mould, the rotten, pus-bleeding trees, the woman bearing her open-mouth grimace, the place where the caterpillars went to die. Without my mother's idiom, the fear of falling back asleep

would have caused me to collapse mentally, but progressively the nightmares became less and less frequent. I guess even bad dreams can grow bored of their hosts. Even now when one manages to claw its way back and wakes me in a cold sweat, I always pour myself back. But it became increasingly difficult for me to keep in contact with Sauta. He seldom returned my messages. Horri mentioned to me that his son had been seeing a therapy. therapist on a regular basis, most likely to help him cope with the dark guilt on his shoulders,

reshaping it, making it easier to chew up. Regardless, he'd have to live with it, the ungodly force that he'd conjured and used to rip Horri's new love away, or for the sake of keeping his father from moving on. I've changed a lot since I last saw Sauta, but how much didn't strike me until recently. I was typing a last-minute essay trying to beat my midnight deadline. Something fluttered in my peripheral. A large moth have flown in through the window. Two intricately patterned eye spots on its wings resembled skulls. Its black and brown body was robust. I didn't know until later that it was a Brahmin moth. Taking an interest in the light from my computer monitor, it whiffed over and landed on the screen. It was so close that I reached a finger out and touched its feathery antenna.

It was kind of cute. 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.