The Dark Somnium - I Discovered a Dark Secret In My Hometown

Episode Date: July 12, 2024

This creepypasta scary story is from the nosleep subreddit, written by MrFrontenac, make sure to check out the original story and show them some support:I Discovered a Dark Secret In My Hometown https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/w2tmxt/they_finally_found_my_family/Sheriff (Creepyface) https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCDy1ZifxOcCSNXIrvIDOEGgMother  @LadyWhiteRabbit Coop: RephJake  @DusklightRadio Casey  @RomNex Greg: ((jaxen24) @DeadManWinter Coroner  @yenx0 Sharon  @SpiritVoices Father Ken Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

When I turned 18 and moved off to college, I promised myself to never return home. I know it seems dramatic. The statement is one of those adolescent eye rolls, but I didn't make some public pledge like many others do just after they're dropped off at the dorms. It was a secret, and one I promised myself I'd keep. My parents wouldn't care or call if I never came back. They couldn't call, or email. They were old school, a euphemism for,

being belligerently stubborn to change. But with some of that stubborn blood in me, I figured I had a better chance of sticking to my promise. Of course, I did end up coming home. However, I hope you'll see that it was hard not to go back on my word. After all, it's not every day the county sheriff dogs your phone like a debt collector and begs you to drop everything to fly across the country. I didn't even pay for my plane ticket, the police department did. It hardly counts as coming home.

You see, the occasion was that they found my family. Just after I left for college, my mom, dad, and sisters vanished into thin air. They had been missing for an estimated six years, though only five were confirmed, as it took the town the better part of a year to find out they were missing in the first place. Honestly, I'm a little surprised it didn't take longer. My parents were not friendly people. They weren't particularly me and either, but they didn't have friends and didn't make small talk. They barely even spoke to me.

My sisters were older and still lived at home, but by the time I was in high school, they were hardly ever around. Ever since I left for college, there had been no trace of them either. Their unnoticed disappearance was aided by the fact that my family lived on a secluded estate on the outskirts of town. It was an 11,000 square foot mansion surrounded by fields and connoissellised. connected to the country road by a quarter-mile driveway. It was an ugly, cruel-looking place, built off gigantic blocks of brownstone. Despite being more labyrinth than home, when I was told their bodies had been found inside and were likely there all along, I couldn't speak.

Had an investigator searched the house? Was there some kind of hidden room no one had known about? Even when they called telling me they'd found the bodies, I was reluctant to return. The sheriff gave me the disturbing details as gently as he could, and I drank throughout the conversation until those details got nice and blurry around the edges. He said if I wasn't going to come back home to please provide them with the basics, a DNA swab, a written statement, anything that could help. I mailed everything I could in a manila envelope, content to wash my hands of the past,

but my curiosity got the best of me and I folded. A few days after mailing everything, I kissed my girlfriend on the cheek and stepped into the security line at San Diego International Airport. Regardless if I returned home, the rumors were finding me across the country anyway. I was ignoring a dozen calls a day from old friends I had hoped to never hear from again. When the bodies were found and the investigation began, all the town gossip regarding my parents' initial disappearance was compiled. The townspeople agreed that my parents' car had disappeared this same. same week I moved out to go to college, but no one had seen them leave. Of course, it was unlikely that their single car departing in the night would be noticed by anyone. The only problem was that

the house was empty. There were no furnishings, no china dishes, no wallpaper. Everyone agreed it would take a battalion of moving trucks to ferry away all the lamps and books and leather couches that house must have held, but there were no moving trucks. That would have been noticed. Could it have been emptied by thieves after they left, carrying one piece at a time? Perhaps, said the police. But the logistics of my parents' stuff didn't concern me. To be honest, when I found out they went missing this summer going into sophomore year, I felt relief. Now I really would never have to go home.

The town didn't have an airport, and it would be more than an hour's drive from Cedar Rapids. Luckily, I was getting a ride, and I wasn't all that shocked when I was greeted at the terminal by every investigative agent in the county. Unsolved quadruple homicides are few and far between in the heartland. The sheriff stepped forward. Sam. He smiled somberly. Hey, Sheriff. From my turbulent youth, I knew Sheriff Kane personally. After six years away, I saw he had become an old man now, though still large and mustached. He told me after one of my worst nights that landed me in the little county cell that he was on a path to prison too, before getting sober decades before I was born. He shook my hand. I'd shaken it before when I was younger, as a deal between would-be degenerates

to get my life together. It was firm then. Now his soft, sorry handshakes sent shivers down my spine. I moved down the line of faces and shook hands with the county workers I knew from the other hats they wore in town. Coroner, Pope, my pediatrician. Officer. Sir Man, my geography teacher. All their hands were limp and feeble on my own. I was the man with a dead family. I was the man made of glass. Don't worry, son.

No reporters, like I promised. I nodded, and soon I was in the back of a police SUV, racing across the planes at 90 miles per hour. It was a police escort. Lights flashing, oncoming traffic steered to the shoulder, the whole nine yards. My parents were already dead, and as bad as it sounds, all I could think was, what's the rush? I understood it was important to find their killers as soon as possible, but while their bodies were found last week, they'd likely been dead since I moved out six whole years ago.

The sun was setting when we rolled into town, and the SUV I was in pulled into the city's only motel while the rest kept driving. We've already got your room. The cop held a key card in between his fingers, and I took it. It's room 14. The police station is too small for the crowd we're having tomorrow. We're leading the investigation out of the community center on Pleasant Street. We're getting started at 9 a.m.

What are we doing here? We're going over everything we know, starting from scratch. We can pick you up or... He nodded his head down the block. You can walk. It's five minutes from here. I remember. Thanks. And don't worry.

Sorry, no press is allowed in. If anyone bugs you, or if there's anything you need, you just call Kane. And Sam. I'm sorry about all this. Yeah. Again, thanks. I grabbed my small duffel and went to my room. Inside, I looked around briefly.

The motel was cleaner than what I'd pictured the countless times I'd driven by it growing up. The room was cold, and the blackout curtains were drawn. I kept them closed and laid on the bed in the dark. Here I was, home again. I thought about going to the liquor store and getting drunk so I could sleep, but thought better of it. I didn't want to deal with the details of my dead family hung over. Instead, I stared at the stucco ceiling and thought, That was a bad idea.

I rose in an existential panic a few minutes later and paced the room. I couldn't be alone. I unlocked my phone. I still had a few friends in town and called my closest one, Jake. He picked up on the first ring. Sam! Hey, Jake. I've been thinking of calling.

Really? I'm sorry. I thought you had enough on your mind. Man, I'm the one who left and never called. I'm the one who should feel guilty. Well, what's up? I just got into town. I heard you were coming.

You trying to go on a nightwalk? Jake and I had this thing in high school where when there was nothing to do, often as that was, we'd roam the town and country roads, talking and drinking for miles. Dude. Jake spoke as if dumbfounded by coincidence. I literally just left the liquor store. I met him outside my motel room, not 20 minutes later, and he awkwardly hugged me with a six-pack in one hand. Man.

Jake placed one of his massive palms on my shoulder and leaned back. Did you get shorter? No, you somehow got even taller. You circus freak. Ah, I see. Ah, see, I didn't move away. I kept eating corn and drinking milk. Do they even have dairy on the West Coast, or are you some kind of almond milk freak now?

What's it like being so tall and stupid? Boy, is it nice. He smiled. No girl has ever expected me to find the clit, and, oh boy, do I get praised like a dog when I do. You're telling me the townie girls finally developed a fetish for old Frankenstein? Once she left, I was the prime. Antre, my friend. He playfully tapped my leg with a six-pack.

So where are we walking to? You're not going to like it. His happy expression dropped. You don't want to go there, do you? Yeah, I do. Just to see it. We can't go inside. It's a crime scene anyway.

He cracked a beer and started drinking. Okay. He sighed and looked towards the direction of my old house. I can do that. By the time we were walking on the shoulder of the country highway, it was already dark. We spent most of the way there talking about mutual acquaintances in town. The topic of the murders had been avoided until then. After a silence between topics, Jake downed another beer and tossed the bottle into the weeds.

I stopped and pointed, You're really still doing that? What? Tossing your beers in the ditch. We're not 18 anymore, man. You've got some weird priorities right now. I shook my head and kept walking. It was late summer, and the sounds of crickets in the grass gave the air a sleepy,

feel that made the silence we shared easy. We were almost to the house when Jake cleared his throat. So, uh, you don't have to talk about any of this stuff with me if you don't want to, but I've been hearing the craziest rumors. Yeah? Yeah. Do you know what I'm talking about? I nodded at my feet.

That's all just bold, right? The things these farm wives can come up with. Stranger than fiction. I didn't say anything. My old childhood home had come into view. There were no lights on, and in the dark, its silhouette was outlined sinisterly. There were just rumors, right, Sam? There was fear in his voice, and while I heard him perfectly, I still couldn't bring myself

to speak as I watched the house in the distance. Sam? I looked at him. Those farm wives actually put it all together pretty well. Even in the black, I could see his face blanche. You're messing with me? I shook my head. Jake yanked a beer from the pack and twisted off the cap.

I'm so sorry, Sam. He tilted his head back and drank deeply. Eh, everyone in town is. Jake finished his beer with a burp, but this time he put it back into the cardboard six-pack. As soon as he did, he pulled out another, and I couldn't help but smile. Afraid? Jake nodded as he put the new bottle to his lips. I suppose we should be scared.

Come on. The gate will be locked, but if we cut through it, this field, we can get close. I started walking, giving Jake little time to protest. We crossed the field and stepped over the property line where soybeans turned to weeds. The house never had a lawn,

at least that I can remember. My parents never cut the grass, and apart from the driveway, most of the property was overgrown with prairie. We got within 30 feet of the house before we stopped in waste-high grass. Jake reached behind his back and pulled out a pint he'd pinned to his belt.

I heard him crack the plastic cap, drink, and smelled the whiskey as he passed me the little bottle. I took a long pull. The air glugged back several times before I lowered the pint and sucked air noisily through my teeth to steady my stomach. Why would you ever want to come back here? I ignored his question. This liquor reminds me of how the water here always tasted, like crap. All this grandeur and it couldn't beat the tap water from a trailer park. Jake said nothing.

Do you remember when this place burned? I would have been your age when that happened. I heard about it. I could see where the coral-colored stone was stained with soot from when the flames licked from the windows. It burned the week we moved in, just a few days after, apparently. The entire interior had to be rebuilt. I was two or three. I don't remember a thing, but my family never treated me the same afterwards.

Growing up, I thought the fire was somehow my fault. Even if I did hold a candle to the drapes, who blames a baby, or holds a grudge at least. But my parents, I frowned. Well, they seemed like the kind of people who would do that, didn't they? Can I just say it? I felt I read his thoughts and smiled. Sure. He exhaled in relief.

I know you weren't close, but God, those folks gave me the creeps. I met him twice and couldn't sleep both nights. I shrugged. No hard feelings. Your sisters, too. I'm glad they weren't in our grade. Yeah. Were you close with your sisters?

No, not really, but they were normal to me. Jake nodded and took another swig. He wiped his mouth with his hand and patted my back. Sam? Yeah? Can we get out of here? Yeah. I laughed, but just then our attention was taken to the road,

where gravel crunched under something heavy. It took a second to make it out in the dark, but an enormous object crept towards us. Suddenly, we were blinded and we squinted through our faces towards the dark. Hey! Oh, damn. Jake was already pounding away through the brush. Cops! I stood still.

Jake, get back here. That's our ride. I saw the outline of the officer get out of the car. Did you hear me? You there. You're trespassing. I thought we made it clear. Are you, kids, that this place was under 24-hour watch and that any more trespassers will be prosecuted.

No buts. Sorry, I haven't been here in a while. Did you hear me? No buts. Sheriff said to prosecute the next teen's dumb enough to mess around this place to send a message. That can be us. Kid, I don't want to book you. You a Royals fan?

No. Well, it's the 11th inning, and I ain't missing a pitch. Now your friend there has got the right idea. You go on now and run for the police. I started walking closer. I was thinking maybe a ride for a whole time's sake. Huh? He squinted and stepped further from the car.

Oh. Sam? How you doing? Sam. He said in disbelief and looked at the house. What are you doing here? Remembering, for whatever it's worth, I raised my arms and let them smack to my sides. I'm sorry.

He looked me over as if he were looking for something he hadn't seen when I used to live there. I'm so sorry. Yeah, don't worry about it. You can't bring people back from the dead anyway. He shook his head to clear it. So that must have been the big guy. He pointed into the prairie. I thought I saw a glimpse of a Sasquatch when I hit those brights.

Yeah. Jake, get out here. We were both silent as we listened to the grass rustle. There was a distant shout. Are you sure? Yeah, I'm sure. Do you want to walk back to town? I turned to the officer. You don't mind giving me a rad back to the motel. No, of course not. Anything.

Thanks. Come on, Jake. We watched Jake stand and tower over the grass. In just a few steps, it seemed like he covered 100 feet and stood next to us. Hey, Officer Cooper. I should have known. Was it his idea to come out here? He pointed at Jake. God, no.

Jake wasn't paying us any attention as he brushed dirt off his plastic pint. This scaredy cat? I walked closer to the squad car. Can we drink in the car? Jake wiggled the whiskey. Jake, you don't even fit in my cruiser. We've been over this. I'm taking Sam, but you can walk.

I told you that. That's just if you're stuffing more than one guy in the back. Sam ride shotgun. Then I'll fit. The cop waved dismissively and got into the driver's seat. When we started up the drive, there was still the comfortable sound of baseball on the radio. With the strong voice of the announcer and the soft cheering and chattering of thousands of fans behind him, it was hard to feel any fear.

I pictured the stadium, the millions of bugs whirling under the lights, the tired kids leaning against their nervous fathers with fingers sticky from kids. cotton candy, ready to go to bed. I managed to forget where I was and smiled. So, uh... Officer Cooper turned off the radio and broke the silence. Sam, I've been hearing all sorts of rumors running around. I leaned my head into my hand and closed my eyes. He picked at his collar.

That's all just bull, right? When I woke in the morning, I considered it a good thing that I would was still drunk and not hung over. Jake and I had gotten dropped off at the liquor store and walked back to my motel. I don't remember much of the night, but at some point Jake had left because the other bed was empty. One of the deputies had given me a wake-up call at eight, and I showered, drank a couple of warm beers to keep the buzz going and dressed.

I walked to the community center. Some press was set up with their satellite trucks in front of the building. Sheriff Kane had been on the lookout for me when I was getting close. Worrying, I'd be recognized. He led me around the block and through the back. I was ushered into a medium-sized event room with three long tables forming a horseshoe, and they sat me at the center. At the end of the room on a cart was a big black Panasonic,

where our reflections fish-eyed in the dark glass. Every seat in the room was already full, and based on the empty paper cups of coffee that many officials had in front of them, it looked like this conference had started an hour or more earlier. A woman in a suit stood as I sat. She wore her hair up, and I glanced at the pistol bulging on her hip. Mr. Martin. Please, I said quickly.

Sam is fine. Of course. I'm sorry. She smiled at me pityingly. Sam. Thanks for coming. We can't imagine what this must be like. And before we get started, I want to make clear that we can stop whenever you like.

if you need to take a break. That's fine. Okay. My name is Casey Allen, and I'm the lead investigator on this case with the state PD. You're going to be hearing from a lot of people today.

She turned to the table to her right and pointed. We have Richard Pope, the Clayton County coroner. He lifted his hand from the table in a weak wave. Greg Meyer, our fire marshal,

until 2012, and Sophia Mendez, and Rick Wheeler are here from the University of Iowa, where they specialize in forensic pathology. I understand you must have a lot of questions. And, of course, we have a lot for you. I kept trying to make eye contact with those she introduced,

but they only tightly smiled and awkwardly flipped through the papers in front of them. I think it's best we get this over with right away so we can get started in earnest. If you want to adjourn for a while, that will be totally fine. She looked into my eyes, and I was glad to finally return a gaze. I'm so sorry, Sam. Your DNA results came back last night with a 99.9% chance for both paternity and maternity. The room was silent while they stared at me. I inhaled audibly and sighed for a long time.

I figured as much. Right. We've been told that you talked on the phone before coming here with Sheriff Kane about the circumstances surrounding the bodies. I remember the call, but not the details. I'd gotten so drunk during it that the only thing that remained in my memory was some hint of a hoar. horrible thesis. I was drunk then in that stuffy community center, and feeling like a child enough already, I didn't want to seem any more ignorant. I leaned forward as if to speak into a microphone, even though there was none. That is correct. It felt like the entire room exhaled. People nodded,

and Casey smiled. Okay, we're going to take everything back a bit now. Can we start with where you moved from? We're pulling records, but it's bureaucratic and going to take some tombs. My family had moved here from Massachusetts, a small town there, something port. Newburyport? Yeah. And do you remember who told you that? No. Do you remember living there?

I would have been two or something, no. Maybe we should start at your first memory. Do you have any idea what that may be, Sam? I squinted, remembering the feeling of he on my face. I do. I saw my childhood home burning in the night. I remember the fire. Are you referring to when your home burned in 2001?

Yes. That's great. That's a really great place to start. Greg here was the fire marshal then and one of the first on the scene. Casey gestured to Greg, but he stayed sitting. When she kept her arm extended, he realized he was being called on and stood. Hi, Sam. He turned on the television and hit some buttons and static filled the screen.

Some of you may remember David Child. He was a teenager at the time of the fire, and perhaps a pyromaniac. He liked to follow the department around in film fires. Luckily, he made it out there when the Martin home burned. I've got the tape here. He hit play, and there we were. It was beautifully shot. My parents stood with their backs to the camera, and my little sisters were standing at their feet.

All of them stood stoically still as they watched the home burn in the night. They held a toddler in their arms. Me, I realized, and smiled. Now this video is just seven minutes of this. See? There's no hydrants out there, and the fire was already so progressed that there wasn't much to do anyway, but let it burn out. But, but, um...

I frowned as the fire marshal stuttered, and his voice began to get nasally with tears. I found you that night, Sam. Just after we pulled up. I found you wandering around the outskirts. of the fire all by yourself. Of course, your folks had just moved in that week. No one had ever met them. I didn't know what they looked like.

He pinched his nose and squinted. I was carrying you around thinking your folks were dead in the fire when suddenly I saw those people staring at the flames. I swear they hadn't been there before, but it was dark and a little hectic. They must have been waiting under those kind words. I brought you over them. He paused, trying to compose them. himself and sobbed.

I put you in their arms. I was angry at his guilt. I should be the one crying. I should be the one who gets to break down. Casey saw my scow and patted the fire marshal's shoulder. She gestured to his chair, and he sat. I'm sorry, Sam. The marshal got a little ahead of what you know.

Based on the unignited accelerant found on the bodies and the carbon dating, we believe that the night of the fire was likely the first contact you and anyone in this town made with the suspects. Suspects. I thought and frowned. Sam? Are you with us? I'm not sure.

The room quietly wheeled. Everyone looked at one another and shifted in their folding chairs. Sam, I'm sorry, but I'm going to need to know you're following this 100%. I believe you said Sheriff Kane explained the situation when he called. I don't remember. Casey hesitated, but then spoke firmly. The bodies found in the home that the DNA identified as your biological parents have been there for more than two decades. I said nothing.

The lead suspects in the case are the people that raised you. We believe they may be responsible for the murder of your birth, mother, and father. Where were they found? I heard myself suddenly say. Your biological parents? Yes. Somehow the others in the room grew even more uncomfortable. Your parents were found in the basement. in the water cistern specifically. In the water cistern, I paused.

It's used for storage? The fire marshal covered his mouth, and we all watched him speedwalk from the room before Casey continued. No. It's the main source for the home. Ah, I said. I want to emphasize that the water was very cold year-round. The bodies were surprisingly well-preserved

and never entered into advanced decomposition. I couldn't speak any more. I stared in shocked horror at the TV screen. The video was still playing, and I watched as the woman's hair flooded in the wind. She held me in her arms as the fire flickered beautifully in front of her. So who were these people that didn't mind the taste of rotting flesh in the tap water, who waited in the windbreak for my family to go to sleep before murdering them in the night, only to vanish after raising me for 16 years?

Sam? In that moment, I felt nothing but a terrible clarity that, Whoever they were, I was going to stop at nothing until I found out. But the answers I found were so insidious, I only wish now I'd run from the room. Sam, we need to know you're following everything. Would you like a break? No. I pictured my parents floating in the cistern and bit my tongue to keep from crying.

I understand. You finally found my family. When I stepped out of the community center into the alley around noon, it was sweltering. We had never adjourned. I'd spent the last three hours giving every shred of information I could about the people that raised me. I don't know what to call them. Thing one and thing two, Mom and Dad, whoever they were.

After scouring my memory, I was certain they'd never said anything about grandparents or other family elsewhere in the country. They never suggested moving, and we'd never even gone on vacation. I had no leads on where they might have vanished to. Detective Casey said they were still searching the house for any DNA and were asking around town for six-year-old surveillance footage to hopefully get some pictures, but that was it. There was little to go off. It seemed incredible that these people could raise me for as long as they did and leave so little evidence of who they were. They had gone by my parents' names, William and Lisa, and used my parents' social security number and bank accounts.

They had taken their lives and in the process scrubbed any evidence. of who they actually were. The police had confirmed my biological parents were real. They had shown me photos of them and had their birth, tax, and driver's license records from Massachusetts, but I didn't want to know about them. I didn't want to know about the normal life and loving parents I was supposed to have. When I was excused from the room, the police told me they were going to let the media know about the age of the bodies and the DNA results.

Standing in the alley, I heard the roar of reporters from the other side of the building, building as the news broke. I was asked to come back to the community center for more questioning at 2 p.m. In the meantime, I was heading back to my motel room for a liquid lunch. When I got to the mouth of the alley, a woman was standing alone on the sidewalk staring at me. She wasn't all that old, but her face was heavily wrinkled and her hair frayed wildly. Sam? Sam Martin. She took a timid step towards me. She didn't look like she was the news, but I figured her as some amateur true crime chaser. I'm not a reporter.

You must be Sam. You have the same eyes of that baby. Sam. Her eyes were Misty. I'm your aunt. I'm your biological mother's sister. I'm sorry, but I'm a little skeptical about familial relations these days. If you think I'm your nephew, you can give a DNA sample to the police.

I can do that, of course. But please, just look. She pulled a picture from her pocket and held it out to me. It was creased with a cross from being folded into a square. I squinted. In the picture was a baby, held by a much younger version of the woman I saw before me. But sure enough, smiling next to us were the faces of my biological parents. As relieved as I was for a lead, I was mourning the delay of my liquor.

I took her into the community center with me, And the 2 p.m. meeting was moved to that second. My aunt's name was Sharon. She sat after my parents had moved from Massachusetts. She never heard from them again. She was sitting to my right as she told the story. William and Lisa were busy people, so not hearing from them didn't set off any alarm bells at first. But after about six months, Lisa still wasn't returning my calls.

I had promised my sister I'd visit anyway, so I bought a plane ticket. Casey was standing in front of the room and looked at Sharon. gravely. And William and Lisa. Did they say why they moved? Sharon frowned. No. They never said.

Or maybe I never asked. They had a lot of money from William's father, and I was told his family was from the Midwest. Why exactly they chose to move here, I don't know. I only spoke with Lisa a couple times a year. So what happened when you came to visit? Well, I got a rental car and drove all the way to their... their new address. Their car was in the driveway, which I remember gave me some relief. But when I knocked on the door, the man that answered wasn't William. I said, I'm looking for the Martin

family, and he said, speaking. I said, you're not William Martin, and he just smiled. He didn't say anything else. He just kept this big, creepy smile on his face, and he slammed the door. Did you notify the police? Of course. I sped into town and pounded on that police station door. I told them everything I just told you. They looked at me like I was crazy. A cop followed me out there and spoke to that man,

but said I need some evidence for my accusations. They asked me if I could provide documents or the driver's licenses of the Martins. I said not that minute, but I could eventually. I flew home to gather everything I could. I mailed it to the police station here, but that was the last I heard of it. Sheriff Kane frowned, leaned back, and glared at Sharon.

Do you remember who the officer was? Did you ever call again to follow up? Sharon looked uncomfortable. That man. She pointed to the sheriff. It was him. And no. Casey glanced at the sheriff for a moment before continuing.

Why didn't you contact anyone again? Because there was something wrong with the whole thing, because to be honest, it felt like one big conspiracy. like they knew the Martins weren't who they said they were. I had the feeling if I came back here raising hell, that the next person to knock on my door looking for me would be greeted by some smiling creep calling herself Sharon. So that's it. You left it at that.

No further inquiries to any law enforcement agency. No. Sheriff Kane. Casey had turned to him. Do you remember these events? Kane never took his gaze off Sharon. Sheriff. It's lies.

Every word this woman's saying. Casey, you're from Des Moines. So maybe you're not familiar with the crime around here. But it's few and far between. If 15 years ago some lady came here saying the new creepy family wasn't who they said they were, I'd remember. The whole town would. None of this ever happened.

Everyone was looking at Sharon. It did. She leaned back and looked forward. fearfully around the room. It did happen. Perhaps it was that nothing could shock me after that morning's news, or that the booze was finally leaving my system. But either way, I was apathetic to Sharon's arrival.

I felt like the spectator of a soap opera and excused myself from the room. Before I left, they asked me if I'd stay in town while Sharon's DNA results were being processed. I agreed, told them to call if there were any worthy developments, and went back to the the motel. The rest of the day, I don't remember much. I drank alone in the motel with the blinds drawn, and to be frank, my clearest thoughts were spent contemplating whether or not to end my life. The next day when I woke up, I spent the only ten minutes of sobriety I had to return one of my girlfriend Liz's dozens of missed calls. I had to talk her into canceling the flight she'd booked when she hadn't heard from me but heard the news. I told her I was okay. I told her I'd be back

in a day, maybe two. None of it was true. I suppose I was on some kind of suicide watch since the deputy would knock on my door twice a day to ask if I needed anything. I hated being watched over. Their ever-present concern made me feel like a child. The second night there I turned off my phone, slipped out of my room, and went to crash on Jake's couch. I must have drank the shock out of my system because the next morning I woke up without the urge to grab a beer from the fridge. The burning curiosity I had felt in the community center was back. I couldn't just drink the rest of my life away because I had a great excuse to do so. When Jake woke and came downstairs, I was sitting at his kitchen table.

It took half an hour of convincing, and for Jake to drink about six breakfast beers in that time, but that night he was coming with me to my old house. I wanted to see it. I wanted to see the cistern. Jake's eyes were glassy as he stared into space. Why can't the police take you? I'm sure they show you around the scene. Because what fun is that?

Okay. Are you sure it has to be tonight? We could always put it off for a day and hang out. It's got to be tonight, I smiled. Royals play the White Sox at seven. We waited for it to get dark before we took Jake's car to a country road just two miles from the house. We parked and sat out across the soybean fields.

There were no stars, and in the country dark, we didn't even even. even bother crouching when cars passed. It was quieter that night. No crickets, just the sound of soybeans rustling against our legs and Jake's handle of rum glugging in his backpack. Did you need to bring half a gallon of liquor? Hey, man. Did you want to go alone? We stopped as he tossed his backpack around and pulled out the bottle.

I stood with my hands on my hips as he sipped. As I looked into the distance, my hair shot on end and tears welled in my eyes. A quarter mile away, where a tree line met the field, a figure stood staring at us. I could just make out their shadow against the trees. There's someone watching us. Jake choked on the rum and started coughing. Not funny. Not joking.

He put an enormous hand on my shoulder and stood behind me as if I were a shield. Where? I pointed and he followed my finger. As I stuck my arm out, the figure turned and stepped calmly into the copes. What the... I turned and kept walking. Sam, we gotta get out of here. It's probably just a reporter.

You don't believe that. You're right, I don't, but okay. I nodded my head the way we had come. You're free to walk back to the car alone. He held the giant bottle of rum in both hands and drank. Screw this. Screw you. It was easy to get into the house.

Officer Cooper's car was parked far up the driveway towards the road, and we slipped through the glassless wind. window on the first floor. Inside was pitch black, but to avoid being spotted, we couldn't use flashlights until we were in the basement. I reached out to find the wall and pictured the way to the basement door. Okay, I know the way downstairs. Stay right behind me.

I got to the basement door quickly and turned on my flashlight at the entrance. The damp stairs creaked and we could hear each other's hearts as we crept down into the dark. Thankfully, the basement was one giant unfinished hole in the ground. meaning there wasn't a labyrinth of room like the floors above. There was little space for anything to hide and pop out at us. In the center of the crumbling concrete floor laid the entrance to the cistern. It was open and the giant metal lid lay upside down next to it. When I saw the lid, I blanched.

I suddenly remembered I had tried to lift it as a child just to see if I could. Of course, it was too heavy. I felt like crying as I pictured myself as a little boy, heaving with all my might on the handle, too little to lift it, too little to reveal the truth. I heard liquor sucked from the bottle behind me and shook my head as I walked to the mouth of the open hole. It'd been drained, and a long aluminum ladder descended into its depth. The light of the flashlight seemed to barely touch the bottom, but I could see that

the cistern was a cylinder lined with brick. I'm going in there, I said, turning to Jake. What? He fumbled, putting the bottle back in his bag. You got a scoop a suit? It's drained. I can't let you. As your friend, Sam.

He started stumbling. Has some sense. You'll drown. It's empty, Jake. There's no water. I'll save you. I turned back to the hole. I heard him stumble towards me and then came a thundering thump from the floor.

I flinched and threw myself around. I shined the light on Jake. A cloud of dust was still scrambling. trembling up from where he'd fallen. Lying flat and face down on the floor, the length of his body was comically long. You okay, buddy? Jake? Before I stepped toward him, I heard a soft snore.

Okay, that's probably for the best. I put my flashlight in my teeth and started down the ladder. It was an unstable descent, and I kept my eyes on my hands. At the bottom, my sneakers sucked in the mud. I shined the light around and froze. There were words scribbled into the brick wall, symbols, thousands of them. I slowly brought the light up the wall and my eyelids reeled in fear, scrawled across the bricks with its star point stretching several feet, was a pentagram.

This was not discussed in the meeting. I walked to the wall, a slurp of mud echoing up the cylinder. The water had worn the stone, but by reading slowly and tracing my finger in the carvings, I could make sense of it. Our son, Sam, a star fell the night you were born, as beautiful as our baby boy. You can't imagine our delight when we were told that star was your soul. We believe we were told the truth. We believe we were giving you the world, Sam.

We only wish to serve by your side. Your eternal servants, Mom and Dad. We love you. I stepped back from the wall with my mouth agape. Mom and Dad. Did my real parents write this? I looked around frantically. Every word carved into the cistern was the same message repeated over and over again.

The word stretched up its entire length. It must have taken weeks. I stumbled backwards to the ladder and climbed it in a panic. Jake! Jake, wake up! He lifted his face off the floor and squinted. I turned my phone on for the first time in a day. I had messages from the sheriff, from Liz, but then I frowned. The coroner had texted me, urging me to call.

Jake, we have to go upstairs. Oh, God. Are we still in the spooky house? Not for long. I went over and helped him up. He reached for his backpack, but I yanked out the bottle and hurled it to the wall where it shattered. He paused for a second and mocked. Hey, ma'am, we're not 18 anymore.

Come on. I stumbled back up the stairs with Jake's amazing. Vince weight halfway on my shoulders. Back on the first floor, I shrugged him to the ground, and I called the coroner. It was late, and I'd hoped he'd kept his ringer on. He answered on what would have been one of the last rings. Sam! Hey, I know everyone's been calling me.

I'm fine. I just needed a break from it all. Yeah, we figured as much. But have you heard my report? No, I saw your text. Right. I heard him sigh as he rose from bed. Sam, I know this may sound even stranger, and trust me, I doubled and triple-checked everything.

I came to this conclusion a few days ago, and I really took my time to make sure. What? Sam, your biological parents' wounds are self-inflicted. There were no defense markings. The cuts down their arms were sure and steady. But those bodies are so old. Cold water is a coroner's best friend. I'm sure about this.

there was a note of sorts of the scene. You mean the satanic stuff? They told you? Yeah, something like that. He didn't respond, and I brought the phone down from my ear. I've got to go. I hung up and stared into the dark. I listened to my ears ring, but suddenly I flung my face to the ceiling.

There were footsteps coming from the floor above, slow and searching, creaking down the length of the hall. Sam, shh! I craned my neck. to look down the hall and out the front window. I saw the taillights of the police cruiser as it turned onto the road and drove away. The footsteps continued and my eyes widened as I realized where they were headed. They were headed towards the stairs. The footsteps were descending now.

I could hear the stair treads crack and pop as they were met with the weight. Jack stood mumbling, out of here. He said and threw himself out the first floor window where his limp body whacked into the weeds. I stayed inside. I walked as calm as I could into the foyer that grand staircase accordioned into. She was waiting for me at the foot of the stairs. It was Sharon. You've read your parents' note. She smiled and wiped away what must have been tears of joy. Isn't it beautiful?

I shivered and said nothing. You want to know if it's true, don't you? I don't care. You're just another one of those creeps. But you do, Sam. How could any person, with a hint of curiosity in their bones, not want to know? We were both silent for a moment before she spoke. I know where they are. The creatures that raised me?

They're just people, Sam. Your people. All of us are. You are the one with the chance to become something more. Well, unlucky for you. I never want to see those people again. They very much want to see you. She stepped forward and extended a small. mall leather notebook. This will tell you how to get there.

She wiggled it, and finally I snatched it out of her hand. Good, Sam. Go get some rest. It's half a day's drive. She started walking to the front door, and I shouted after her. Hey, wait! She stopped. So all that stuff you said in the meeting about coming back here and filing police reports,

was all a lie? You have to excuse the townspeople. You see, they're all very excited for your return. And with that, she left. I stood there for a minute and leaped through the leather notebook. The direction stopped at the entrance of an old logging road in the forests of western South Dakota, the Black Hills, the land of Mount Rushmore and motorcycles, and now, at least in my mind, satanic cults.

Fun. I stuffed the book into my pocket and went back to the window Jake had dove from. He wasn't lying in the weeds below. Jake? I called out to the fields and stayed silent for a response. When none came, I dropped down. I thought Jake had previously tried to make a break for the car, but got lost in the dark. I called his name as I walked and listened for the sound of snores, but all I could hear were crickets.

He had the keys anyway, and I was sure he would wake up in the morning after having bed down for the night somewhere in the soybeans. I walked back to town, and the moment my face hit the cold sheets of my motel bed, I slept. As soon as I woke, I threw everything I had left in the motel room together and walked to Jakes. His car was outside, which surprised me, and I frowned as I knocked on the door. There was no response, but it was unlocked. I went inside.

The house was little more than a thousand square feet, and it didn't take long to figure out that he wasn't there. I packed up my things and called a cab from Cedar Rapids to pick me up and bring me back there. I was going to rent a car. I was going, against all my better judgment, to the Black Hills. The cab would take more than an hour to arrive, and I sat waiting on Jake's porch, both for the cab and for any sign of him. I'd been nodding off with my head on the porch beam when I heard brake squeak as a car stopped.

It was the sheriff. Hey, Sam. Hey, I stood and looked both of the car. ways down the block. A few curtains flashed in the neighbor's houses. How long had they been watching me? I know you were at your old place last night. Who told you that? Well, the coroner says you called him. He says you knew about the writings your folks left. Not a lot of people know that. Maybe someone told me. Maybe I wasn't there. Well, I went by there this morning and found a big old bottle of liquor smashed in the basement that wasn't there the last time I was.

I stopped at the liquor store and asked that clerk Cody if he'd sold any handles of Sailor Jerry's recently. And that's not to mention all that cistern mud still caked on your sneakers. He pointed at my feet. You boys aren't as smooth as you think. I crossed my arms. Why didn't you tell me about the writings? Sam. Isn't it obvious?

He took a step towards me. Let's not play this game. When I met you at the airport, you were drunk. When you came to the meeting, you were drunk. Every time you opened that motel room door, do you think the deputy couldn't see the bottles behind you? We're worried about you, kid. In this case, your situation? You want my honest take?

I said nothing. It's insane. One bite at a time. That's how we're going to break it to you. What's the point of telling you about that satanic nonsense if we didn't even know who wrote it? I felt doubt subdue my paranoia. I'm sorry, but Officer Cooper... What about him?

When I was in the house last night, he left, as if he wanted me to find the truth. Oh, come on. It's Coop. He was probably going to get more cigarettes. Sam, we're here to serve you. My head snapped up, and I took a step back. What? We're here for you.

To serve me. Huh? Sam. It says it on the squad car. He pointed to the cursive, protect and serve decal. Just then he saw my cab turn onto the block and I hurried past him to meet it. The cab came to a stop and the trunk latch popped. The sheriff never asked me where I was going and I didn't plan to tell him.

I threw my duffel in the trunk and opened the back door. You'll understand, Sam. I paused and looked at the sheriff over my shoulder, and he smiled. My promise, son, this will all be okay. I got to Cedar Rapids just afternoon and wasted no time getting a rental. By 1 p.m. I was driving west across the length of Iowa. My phone said I'd arrive at a lake, the closest landmark to the entrance of the logging road mentioned in the directions just after 11 p.m.

I was an hour away from reaching Sioux City when I realized someone was following me. A brown pickup had been in my rearview for far too long, and I stopped to top off my tank, even though I hardly needed it. The truck sped past when I pulled into the gas station, but I couldn't get a good look at the driver. When I got back on the empty highway, there was no sign of the pickup, but after 20 more minutes on the road, I saw it in my rear view, only further away this time, trying to be more hidden. It must have been waiting down a country road for me to pass.

I was going to confront whoever it was, but as I began to slow, I saw another car start to overtake the pickup in the opposite lane. It was almost too far away for me to understand what I saw. The car swerved violently into the pickup, sending it spinning into the ditch and disappeared in the cornfield. I slammed on my brakes and turned the rental around. By the time I got to where the collision had happened, the other car was long gone. I saw nothing but a slight shimmer of sun on its glass as it raced away.

There were no other cars around, and I left mine running in the road while I got out and walked to the wreckage. The corn stalks were combed to the earth where the truck had rolled over them, and, 40 feet from the ditch, the pickup sat upside down. One of its wheels still spinning has smoke rose from the engine. I crept cautiously toward the cab. It was an old truck, a 70s square body with no crumple zones, and the metal was twisted horribly. I bent down while still several feet away. The thick scent of leaking diesel deterred me from getting any closer. I froze.

Inside the cab was the contorted corpse of the sheriff. His dead eyes stared back at me. I stood and looked around, wind whistled in the cornstalks and played with the smoke. There was no one else around. It would take a half hour for first responders to even get there, and then what? Even though I knew the car that took him off the road was gone, I still felt like I was being watched. I walked back to my car and got in. Was the sheriff trying to help me?

And who ran him off the road? Sharon? After all, I thought as I started the car, who else could it be? I didn't stop for nearly 400 miles. I was little more than an hour away when I had to get gas again, and by then it was nearly dark. While standing at the pump, I looked at the rich shadow of the black hills poke up from a desolate prairie in the distance. Somewhere in there were the people who promised my parents my soul was Satan's.

As I hung in the nozzle, I noticed a car had pulled to the shoulder about a quarter mile down the interstate. I had been watching my rearview mirror closely after witnessing the accident, and there was a couple of times that I thought I was being followed again, but it didn't matter much. If it was Sharon, she knew where I was headed anyway. Soon I was ascending the hills, weaving through dark roads lined with Ponderosa Pines. My heartbeat steadily rising along with the slight altitude. Why had I agreed to come here?

For all I knew, I was the last piece of their puzzle to sacrifice. I passed the black shadow of the lake and jumped as my GPS said I arrived. I kept my eyes peeled for the logging road. The little leather book said it was. was the first right after the lake, and far too soon I was there. I rolled to a stop and sat in the car in the dark. I thought about turning around, but the moment I did, towards the end of the road, I saw the soft orange glow of flames.

The road proved to be too rugged for my rental, and I pulled to the side and continued on foot. The lights were further ahead than they first appeared, but after a few hundred feet I could see what they illuminated. Five nooses hung from the brinked. ranch of a pine. The torches that lit the scene were not teaky, but crudely made of iron. As I got closer, I couldn't see anyone.

There were just nooses gently swinging in the wind. Hello? I called, and two young women in white dresses stepped from behind the pine. My step-sisters of a sort. They didn't look at me immediately. They took turns holding each other's hands as they stepped on to a stone that acted as a stool. they fixed two of the nooses around their necks. What are you doing?

I spoke, but it came out as a horrified whisper. Welcome home, Samuel. They said in tandem and jumped off the short stone. The fall wasn't far enough to break their necks. At the height they'd hopped from, they'd just slowly suffocate. I started running to them. What are you doing? No!

I raced to them, stumbling towards the tree, but when I got close, I saw their white dresses were both blotched red. I stared at them in horror as I was. watched blood trickle from their toes in thick streams. There were razors in the ropes. They were both smiling at me, their mouths black with blood. The life quickly leaving their eyes. No, I whispered.

Sam. The voice came from my left, but I didn't need to know who it was. You. I turned, and there they were. The people that raised me. The people that tricked my parents into killing themselves. You demented freak! Anger is natural now.

The man stepped forward. He was little changed from the last time I saw him. He had the same high forehead and soulless eyes, only with a little more wrinkles. We're here to give you everything. The woman chimed in and smiled. We're here to give you the world. Do tell. Please.

The man gestured at my feet. Don't stand there. I looked down. I was standing in a shallow stone trough beneath the nooses that was quickly filling with blood. I took two full steps backwards into the grass. Sharon told us you read the note. Your parents left you. He pointed into the dark, and I realized at the edge of the firelight stood Sharon.

I immediately looked down the road I'd come in from and frowned. The thing I once thought was my mother began to speak. You are a very special boy. On the night you were born, the star of Lucifer fell. Did you know it falls just once in a human lifetime? She looked at me expectantly, as it was a very special boy. if this information alone would change my entire perspective. Well, no matter.

But that star fell on you. Our Lord had died the very day of your birth, but his soul was no time to return to Earth. Are you wackos saying I'm Satan? No, not yet. All you have to do is spill the blood of the one you loved, and then we shall baptize you. They were smiling at their daughters proudly,

and I began to feel sick. I pitied them. I looked at the hanging sisters. Their face is already cold and dead, but their smiles just as wide. I did not love those girls. Of course not. But the blood from one girl doesn't make for a good baptism. Sharon started stepping forward, and I noticed there was something halfway hidden behind her.

My heart leapt. Liz, it was my girlfriend, bound and gagged. Sharon hurled her forward where she fell on the grass lifelessly. Don't worry. She's just drugged. It'll make it easier for you. I took a lunging step towards Sharon and raised my fist, but suddenly I felt immensely weak, and I stumbled instead. This brings us to the second part.

We had hoped you wouldn't end up so normal. This entire thing is much easier when you welcome him into your heart from the very beginning. But do you feel that? I dropped to my knees. That's your life. Fating. The second those girl's blood entered the baptism bowl, he could feel how close he is to entering this world again. And now, there's no turning back. You can kill the woman you love and be given power and life so great and so eternal. Your sorrow will be forgotten in an instant. If you don't, your life will simply drain until you're dead. my side, a pulsing pain was running out of each of my ribs. I know what you're thinking.

You think there's no way you would kill this girl you love. No way you'd let this evil enter this earth. But the choice is only an illusion. It is not just death you face, but eternity. I frowned and looked into the man's eyes. If you deny him life, he will take you with him into the vault. for time ad infinitum. You will wander alone, and in the darkness you will know madness previously unknown to man.

Do you think there's a difference between one and ten billion years of blackness? You'd have to let us know. I turned away from him. Could this whole be true? I tried to think if I could have been poisoned. I hadn't eaten all day. I bought a single bottle of water from a gas station and drank the whole thing just after opening it. And the way I felt, it was unholy.

You will kill the girl. The man said with certainty, We will help you raise her into her noose. Then we will dawn our own. You see, he stepped towards me. You would be the first fool to choose eternity. Did they know? I winced in pain.

Did the town know? They were promised a greater reward. reward for keeping you safe. Everyone knew? Everyone, Sam. Even the children were told in song, and they shall all be your servants. Suddenly, we both frowned as an engine roared in the near distance. I rolled so I could see the road.

Coming out of the dark was the black shadow of a car with its lights on. It was violently pitching over the ruts, and in just a few seconds it was only 50 feet from us. I had never seen the people I had previously known as my parents expressed such a motion. There were many things I can never picture them doing, and running was at the top of the list. They stood motionless like deer in the headlights as the car barreled into them. Their body slammed onto the hoods before slipping under and bouncing as they were hit again by the tires. Sharon, my girlfriend and I had only been missed by a few feet. The car slid to a stop and the door flung open, and to my disbelief,

I saw all six-ten of Jack pounding across the grass and ducking under pine branches towards us. Sharon stepped in front of him, but before she could say a word, in one fluid motion, Jake drew his arm back as far as he could, formed a fist, and hurled it into her head. Jake had always been a gentle giant, and I was always morbidly curious as to what kind of damage those enormous fists could do. There was a crack like a branch breaking, and Sharon slapped to the earth motionless. Jake paused and put his hands in the air, then stared at the girls drenched in blood, dangling from their nooses.

I had already moved to undo Liz's bindings. Once they were off, I positioned her so she lay on her side. Her breathing was slight, but steady. I looked up at Jake with uncertainty. I'm sorry. He ran his hands over his face. I'm sorry, I never told you, and I'm sorry. They threatened me, Sam.

I said we'd all be rich when you came back. He settled himself and breathed for a moment. moment. I knew you weren't the devil, but more importantly, I knew there was no way you'd ever want to be one if it were offered. Sheriff Kane. He put his hands on his knees and breathed. I watched you and him at my house.

He was getting impatient. He was going to make sure you followed through here. Tonight. That was you? Despite the strangeness, I managed to smile. You pit maneuvered the sheriff? Did you see that? I obliterated him.

It hurt to keep smiling. And I looked down at Liz. Liz, are you there? I said. We have to get her to a hospital. I looked at the man and woman. They were lifeless in the grass. Sam.

Jake's tone brought me back to Earth. I followed his gaze. He was staring at the trough where the stones were now glowing. A scarlet light seeped from the earth. Some evil beneath growing more restless. Tell me none of it is true. I said breathlessly, but Jake didn't say anything. Tell me they're all just a crazy cult.

Jake! He looked at me helplessly, and I closed my eyes to keep from crying. Even as I said it, I knew I could feel it, and then I saw it. Eternity. My mind's eyes started playing a picture as clear as a movie, wandering the darkness forever with the devil I had forsaken from entering this world. But I realized with horror I could still hang Liz. After all, I'd been neglected of love my entire life, lied to, and tricked.

I barely had an ounce of happiness in my life, and now I didn't just face death, but unending suffering. I saw my life as Satan stretched out in front of me. I would be powerful. I would be alive, and whoever that thing was that would occupy my body would commit evil, the likes of which the world has never seen. But it was all just a fleeting thought. I loved Liz, and as cold to me as it was, I still loved the world.

It was the ones who worshipped this thing that made my life so horrible in the first place. Jake, I said, and he looked at me. Don't regret keeping this from me. Don't beat yourself up. He made the right decision in the end, and that's what matters, isn't it? He nodded. Yeah. He started tearing up.

You're the best friend I ever had, man. It's okay. I spoke quietly and laid next to Liz. I guess I'm going to be the first fool because in Liz's pupils I saw the black pit of eternity. And I knew that into it, I must walk.