Storymania - Pestilence Of Glen Roy by Matthew Bissonnette

Pestilence Of Glen Roy
Matthew Bissonnette

The Pestilence of Glen Roy
By Matthew Bissonnette

It was a warm, bright afternoon in autumn.
Electrician Luther Riker was driving home to his home in the remote country village of Glen Roy when a ambulence, its red lights flashing and siren shrieking through the countryside, raced past him. He caught a quick glimps of the paramedic behind the wheel; the dark skinned man looked shaken and his eyes where widened with shock. Inside the small country hamlet police cars and several unmarked vans had gathered around the local corner store, a rustic building run by a kindly old woman who the locals referred to lovingly as Ma. A large crowd of townspeople had gathered behind the yellow police barricades, shifting restlesslessy, trying to see what had happened to Ma. Twelve hours of working on electric wiring in strangers wealthy homes and dealing with several unpleasant customers had made Luther exhausted, so he didn’t stop to see what had happened. He just wanted to get home, fall onto the couch and let himself escape into the imaginary world of television.
A man, a local farmer who bore a striking resemblence to Ronald Regan accept for rather bushy eyebrows, saw Luther driving past the crowd and waved him down with a flamboyant gesture. Luther, silently cursing Ronald, reluctantly brought his green Ford truck to a halt and parked alongside the motioning man; his name was Ed McDonald and he had lived in Glen Roy for over forty years. Luther stopped because he had known the man since he was three and knew Ed to be relic from a time when the world was a simplier and more warming place.
Luther rolled down his window, flashed Ed a brief smile and asked, “What happed at Ma’s store?”
Ed lowered his head, his eyes seemed to be glazed with tears. “Someone found her this morning, lying face down behind the counter. She’s dead Luther.”
Luther backed away from Ed, not believing what he was hearing. He felt something unpleasant in his stomach, like the acid in his stomach was being turned by a mill, and he said, “Oh my God.”
Ed sighed through his nose, which seemed to making a wheezing noise. “Luther, the poor Anderson boy was the one who found her. She was cut up so bad that the kid went into shock, medics took him away. A cop, you know the new guy from Kenyon who busted up that prostotution ring last year, went in there. Ran out a minute later a puked his lunch all over the street. Apparently there is blood all over the walls of the store.”
Luther scowled. “Who the hell would hurt Ma Irving, she doesn't have any money and I doubt she would give a armed robber a reason to killer.”
“Some bastard,” Ed seemed shaken, “some sick, demented bastard. Ma was one of the best people in this county, I hope they find the little shit and hang him. There already is a lynch mob gathering. Luther, fifty years ago, things like this didn't happen. People where so polite and respectful of others, what the hell is going on with the world.”
Luther turned away from Ed. “I’m sorry Ed, I know she was a good friend of yours. I’m sure they will find the person responsible and throw him in jail to rot.”
“I hope the hell so. Some bastards really have it coming.”
Luther looked at his watch then said, “I have to get home, but give me a call if you hear anything. Maybe you should have dinner with me and my wife again sometime."
Ed nodded then rejoined the crowd of spectators. Luther looked at Ma’s shop then whinced. He couldn’t remember all the times he had gone in that store as a child; he spent many youthful Saturdays in that store when his parents visited the country during the weekends . Ma let Luther have free bags of chips if he didn’t have the money to pay for it. Luther knew Ms. Irving happened to be a damn good person, but Ed was right, human society was going to hell in a handbasket and dropping faster with every year.
Luther began to drive towards his home feeling a little saddened and equally worried. He approached a large red brick building that was positioned on the farside of Glen Roy, beside the edge of a dense pine foreste which surrounded the entire town like a wall of trees. He parked his truck in the driveway and got out. He stood still then turned and looked at the flickering police lights in the distance. The thought of some thing horrible happening so close to the home where he and his beloved wife lived made him nervous. No horror chilled Luther more then the thought of waking up one morning a finding that his wife wasn't there.
Luther took a large inhale of air and said, “Damn it, your not even safe in country anymore.”
Luther turned away and exhaled, he noticed a strange smell in the air. It was faint and barely percievable and it was fowl, like rot. Luther shuddered instinctively.

“What’s wrong Luther?” his wife Anne Brunet Riker asked in her usually soft-spoken yet firm voice.
It was night outside, a red harvast moon hung in the sky while a strong wind blew from the North, bringing cold air with it. Luther and Anne lay on their large couch, they where staring into each other’s eyes and smiling contently. Luther was frowning; he hadn’t said a word to Anne since he arrived home accept to tell her about what happened.
“Shame about Ma,” he said obviously saddened, “she always let me buy something even if I didn’t have money for it. Don’t run into people like that anymore.”
“I didn’t talk to her much, but she seemed very nice. She once told me that she was glad that you had married, she said you always looked so alone as a kid.”
“I have to tell you Anne, I have half a mind to pack up all our stuff tonight and move back to Ottowa, at least cops are everywhere there. I thought shit like this didn’t happen out here, but seems you can't escape the madness. All you can do is defend yourself.”
Anne looked alarmed and angered. “It sucks about what happened today Luther, but we can’t let something like this evict us from the home we have made together.” She began to rub her thin index finger in circles on his cheek. “Besides, I really love it here."
Luther put his hand on her cheek; he could feel her warmth agaisnt his skin; it was a good feeling which helped to lessen the worry that had been gnawing at his gut since dusk. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. “Your right, your right. Can’t let something like this ruin what we have been working for, we do have a place of our own here and some idea where we want to go.”
Anne smiled and pressed her face agaisnt her husband’s. “Things are really starting to work out here, we can’t leave. Can’t let some human scum take the only thing me and you have away.”
“I call it brave. I think if you ever ran into Satan in a dark ally, you would kick him in the balls and take his wallet. All the years I've known you Anne, I've never sen you back away from anything.”
“Funny Luther,” she giggled. “I’m not that brave, I just don’t let things get to me or worry about things I can’t change. I mean Luther, what would be the point. Live for the moment.”
Luther pulled away from his wife, a concearn had occurred to him. “I worry. I don’t like the idea of me being at work and you being alone in the house for three hours after you get off work. I’m a husband; I worry about the safety of my wife, sorry if that makes me sound like a neandrathal.”
Anne brushed her fingers through his hair. “Oh Luther. You’re my big, strong, protector, I've always known that. But please, don’t worry, if something does happen, I always have your pistol in the in the kitchen. You spent enough time showing me how to shoot that damn thing last summer.”
Luther remembered the long summer days he had spent with Anne in a secluded wheat field doing target practice. He had set up a row of glass jars and tin cans on a wooden fence and tried to instruct Anne on how to aim and brace herself for the silver colt .22’s recoil. It had taken her a day to be able to hit every target on her first shot at a far distance and do so in a rapid succession. He hadn’t known why he taught he how to shoot that last summer; it had simply been a spur of the moment kind of thing. But now, with the reality of Ms. Irving’s brutal murder, Luther supposed that the lessons had been a fortunate coincidence or an act of providence. He prayed that Anne wouldn’t have to use that gun, shooting in a panic is much harder then shooting under controlled conditions he reasoned.
“Well, you probably will never need to use the gun,” he whispered to his wife, still feeling worried. “But if you have to, if you have to use that gun to stop someone from hurting you, remember this. Aim for the head and keep firing until the bastard goes down. Don’t take any chances, put a couple of rounds into the body to be sure. Don't stop squeezing the trigger until your attacker is ”
Anne laughed. “Ok Luther, if anyone comes after me with a knife, I’ll fill him full of hot lead.”
“It might seem funny now, but you never know.” Luther said. The unwelcomed image appeared in his mind suddenly, he could see himself walking into his home one day, finding Anne’s corpse on the ground in a growing pool of blood. He could see the gun still in her hand, spent shell casings on the floor. “It’s just Anne, I’ve told you what my life was like before I met you. I spent more years then I care to remember alone, it’s a terrible way to be. It’s like being a hallow person, all that exists is what people see on the outside, no one will ever stop to see if anything is inside. I don’t ever want to be that way again, nothing in my heart but a feeling of emptiness. Alone again with no one watching out for me but myself.”
“Don’t worry Luther, I’ll be here when we both are wrinkled and yelling at kids to get off our lawn.”
Luther tightened his grip on his wife. “Remember that night me met in the city, you know, at that club. I never thought I would be able to gather the courage to actually speak to you.”
“Yeah,” she giggled. “You wrote your name on a napkin and passed it to me, I don’t think that counts as talking.”
“It worked babe.” He kissed her passionately.
Anne was laughing. "You looked liked such a fish out of water there Luther, that is why I noticed you. You reminded me of a lost puppy."
Luther rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

Luther awoke at four in the morning, the images of a surrealistic nightmare fading already. He was in the bedroom, putting on his work clothes and trying his best to fight of the urge to go back to bed. He stopped for a moment and silently looked at Anne, who was still asleep on the bed.
Anne, tall, with short brunnette hair, green eyes and a compassion deeper then anything Luther had ever known, seemed to be very peaceful in her slumber. Though he could not see them right now, Luther had always been most attracted to Anne's eyes. There was something deep, kind, something almost angelic about them.
Luther thought, ‘How does a blue-collar guy like me get this lucky.”

Luther spent the next several days listening to the many news reports on the local radio station, reports about Ma’s murder and the RCMP investigation into the matter. Facts where sparse to say the least. Forensic investigators went over the crime scene but where unable to find any trace of the killer, police had not been able to find a witness who saw the perpatrator. All the police would say was that the killer was still at large, extremely dangerous, and in legal terms, ‘crazy as a shit house rat’.
Luther, who had been silently thinking about the whole incident, turned to Theo Weinberg, the co-owner of the electrician business, one day in the truck on the way to a job in Cornwall. Theo was short but built like a tank and had a haircut that was identical to Ringo Star's hair when he first joined the Beetles. He always had and expression on his face which stated, 'mess with me and I'll mess with you.'
Luther asked reluctantly, “What do you think about this whole thing?”
“What are you talking about Luther?”
Luther shrugged. “What do you think about Ms. Irving’s murder.”
Theo nodded understandingly. “I think some local punk got his hands on some bad PCP or LSD. Probably dead somewhere from a drug overdose, God willing.”
“I don’t know about that,” Luther said, lowering his head. “I didn’t want to say anything, but I got this bad feeling that the killer lives in Glen Roy, has lived there for a long time. No one has said anything, but this isn’t the first time something like this has happened around here. Actually, I think this is just the first time the police have gotten involved and a murder in Glen Roy has made the news.”
“What the hell are you talking about,” Theo said. “I’ve been living in this county longer then you and I never heard about anything like this. You know Luther, you can be very paranoid at times, you should get that checked.”
“My mother’s side of the family has lived in Glen Roy since the place was founded practically. When I was a kid, my grandfather told me about a summer in the twenties, when they found several people in the woods around Glen Roy, cut up pretty bad. They found a whole family slaughtered in the sixties, during a Christmas morning. They found all the bodies under the Christmans tree. Glen Roy has a population of what, eighty-six people, that many murders in a place this small doesn’t make any sense unless they are connected.”
“Damn it”, Theo grunted. “Sounds like your family has filled your head with a lot of BS. Ms. Irving was just a nice old lady who got killed by some psrycho who was passing through! Don't worry, the punk will get his.”
“I’m not so sure of that, I think he might still be here” Luther muttered under his breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”

The murder soon became religated to the back to Luther’s thoughts as he went through several weeks of back breaking work. It didn’t rear its ugly head, like some obscene nightmare, when Theo came over for dinner one night. Winter was just about to begin, so Luther had several weeks off during the Christmas Holidays.
Theo downed his beer then he said, “I did some asking around about Glen Roy. Some old timers say that there has been a lot of unsolved murders around here, maybe you are right Luther. The old guys seemed almost scared to talk about it.”
Luther threw down the cloth he was using to wipe his mouth. “Theo, not in front of Anne please.”
Anne looked offended. “I’m an adult Luther.” She leaned towards Theo. “What was he right about Theo?”
Theo leaned back in his chair and put his feet up on the table. “A lot of old timers around here seem to think there is some curse over this town. No one know who or what does the killing, but they all say that the killer is in Glen Roy and he has been here for a long time.”
Anne looked at her husband. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
Luther shook his head. “Because it’s nothing but a lot of hot air. I’m sorry I ever told Theo, just paranoid speculation.”
They changd the subject of the conversation abruptly.

Elaine Riker was sitting on a patio chair with a blanket draped over hear lap; she peered out over the lawn of the Sunny Hill retirment home. Her hair was white and well kept; her skin weathered and covered with shallow wrinkles. There seemed to be a kind of emptiness in her gaze, like there was nothing going on behind those eyes. She didn’t notice her son Luther walking up behind her.
Luther slowly walked around his mother until he was standing before her. He said firmly, “Hello mom, how does it go in the senior community today?”
Elaine looked up at her sun then smiled widely; she wasn’t wearing her dentures. She said happily, “Nice to see you Luther, you seem to be looking well. Are you still single?”
Luther sighed then raised his left eyebrow. “Mother, you where at my wedding and I know your memory is better then mine.”
Elaine seemed joyed. “Maybe true, I like to joke around. Makes me feel younger. How about a hug for the women who brought you into this world and endured more pain then you can imagine.”
Luther awkwardly leaned forward and hugged his mother briefly then pulled away. He said, “How long are you going to hold that over me.”
Elaine replied promptly, “Three hours of excrutiating pain to give birth to you and that is the best hug you can give. I think I’ll cut you out of the will.”
Luther laughed. “That was twenty-nine years ago and you still throw that in my face. Guess people never change.”
Elaine giggled, like a small school girl might, then settled back down in her chair. “I know you aren’t big on social visits outside of Holidays, so why have you come Luther?”
Luther sat down in a chair beside his mother peered into the horizon. “Did you hear what happened to Ma?”
Elaine suddenly looked saddened. “Yes. I remember buying candy from her when I was four and playing black jacks in her yard. It was a terrible trajedy, she was the heart of Glen Roy.”
Luther nodded in agrreance. “I have to ask you about that story you told me as a kid. Remember the one about the two boys who you used to play with that disappeared one summer.”
Elaine shuddered. “I shouldn’t have filled your yonug, impressionable mind with such trash. No good comes from such thoughts Luther.”
“Mother, he said, “I want you to tell me anything you know about what happened to those kids.”
“Why Luther, why ask after all this time?”
“Anne,” Luther replied flatly. “She means everything to me and if something is running around Glen Roy and killing people, I want to get here the hell out of there.”
“Luther,” she said cryptically. “You are asking me to tell you something that has been locked away in my memory for nearly fifty years. There is a reason why it is locked away son, some things in this world are to horrible to think of.”
Luther took his mother’s frail hand. “If it’s painfull, I’m sorry. But Mom, something is telling me I have to know what you know and weren’t you the one who said to always go with your gut.”
She pulled her hand away. “Fine son, I’ll tell you but not here. Let’s go to my room where we can be alone. Something shouldn’t be told in the light of day, somethings belong in the dark.”
They got up and Luther helped his mother walk to her room. As he held her arm to escort her, he got the feeling that she was very afraid of something. She looked over her shoulder several times, she looked like she was expecting someone to be following them.

Elaine’s room was small. It contained one bed, a table, a chair and a T.V. suspeneded from the ceiling. His mother sat on her bed then retrieved her dentures from the glass of water she kept them in. Elaine slipped the false teeth in then said, “Luther, can you turn off all the lights and close the drapes.”
Luther didn’t ask questions. He turned the lights off and closed the drapes making the room dark and empty. He sat down in a plastic chair and asked, “Why is really going on Mom?”
Elaine seemed afraid and very wary. She lay down on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. She cleared her throat then began.
“I never told you much about my childhood in Glen Roy, mainly because I thought it would bore you to death. Seven of us lived in a small house just outside that village, a rundown building with a roof that leaked, it was very cold in the winter. There was me and my three brothers, my mother, my father and our dirty little secret; your great Aunt Edna.”
Luther was puzzled. “You never told me anything about Aunt Edna before.”
Elaine frowned. “And I never would have if you hadn’t come here today, she was a curse on the family. She was insane, but not like someone in a nuthouse, like an intelligent, thinking insanity that would drain every ounce of warmth from you if you saw her. She lived in the attic, spending her entire day in a rocking chair knitting and peering out the window. She didn’t speak, she didn’t move from the chair, she just looked out that window like she was looking for something. Sometimes I would have to bring up a tray of food, I always hated it.”
“Why?”
Elaine looked away. “She looked twisted. She always wore this worn yellow dress that was dirty and in tatters. Her skin was leathery, her eye’s where yellow and she had unnatural, angular teeth. When I would bring her food, she would turn and smile at me, flashing those horrible, black teeth. My father always said that she had been born bad and should never leave that room, he was wrong."
“Why did she stay with you, if she was that sick why not give her to a hospital, ” Luther asked.
“Because,” Elaine replied, “my father had promised his father that he would look after Edna no matter what. Your grandfather would die before he broke his word. So she stayed with us. My mother hated this; she would tell me that Edna’s mother had given birth to Edna during a very odd day, during an eclipse. I heard stories how every dog and cat in the town went wild that hour after Edna was born, birds left Glen Roy and didn’t return for years. I thought that wasn’t true, but I believed she was born rotten. Like she was born without a soul.”
Luther fell back in his chair. “OK, she was the blacksheep of the family and the subject of some nasty rumors. I didn’t come here to hear family history.”
Elaine stared at her son. “This is the part of family history that was vowed never to be spoke of again, I expect you to realize this. What I tell you here stays locked away, it will go with you to your grave. Hopefully, it will stay there.”
“Fine,” Luther grunted.
“When I was sixteen, a neighbor asked me if my family would watch their twins for an evening. Nice young boys they where, they ran around our yard for hours, laughing and playing innocent children games. I noticed that Edna was watching from her window and I could tell she hated it, hated anything that was good and joyful. Night came, we all went inside and went to bed. The twins weren’t there the next morning, no trace of them where ever found after that. My family was well liked and my father respected, so everyone believed us when we said we had no idea where they where. Popular theory was that they had ventured off into the woods and gotten lost.”
Luther looked gravely at her, “It was Edna wasn’t it, she killed them.”
Elaine seemed depressed. “A week later I was bringing some food up to her. I poked my head up through the trapdoor when I noticed a shoe discarded on the middle of the attic floor. I knew it was one of the twin’s shoes, it had these blue dolphins on the side. Edna was looking out the window, taking no notice of me. I quietly went into the attic then noticed a strange blanket on Edna’s bed, one that hadn't been in the house before. I silently approached the bed and put my hand on the blanket. When I realized it felt like soft, wet leather I realized what it was. Edna had skinned those poor boys and knitted a blanket from their skin, I saw her knitting needles on the floor beside her. They where covered with blood.”
Luther jaw fell open. “No, that can’t be possible. That is insane, your saying the female version of Hannibal Lecter is your Aunt.”
Elaine sobbed a little. “Edna then turned to me and smiled with those black teeth, I could see blood stains all over her yellow dress. I screamed then Edna jumped up, I couldn’t believe how fast she moved, and she flung herself at me. She moved like no human would, she moved like a shambling horror from those sixties horror movies. She was almost on me when suddenly a gunshot rang out and Edna was thrown agaisnt a wall, two holes in her chest. My father was standing behind me, a smoking rifle in his hand.”
Luther asked, “Why didn’t you tell the police?”
“Because,” Elaine replied, “Edna was my families dark secret. We couldn’t let people know what she really was and what she had really been doing. Those twins weren’t her only victims, my father suspected for a long time that she had been leaving her attic at night, prowling around the town like some demonic beast. He never wanted to believe his sister was such an evil abomination, but when he realized that his suspicions where true, he decided he had to end her, it what she was becoming. Something terrible.”
“What happened to the body?”
“My father tied her up and walked into the woods behind our house with her and all the remains of the twins. My family cleaned up the mess. He returned the next morning and told us to never speak of her again. He said that God could forgive us for this sin.”
Luther found it hard to take in everything he was told, but he was somewhat relieved. “Then there is no connection with Ma Irving’s murder.” He got up and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek then said, “I’m sorry for dredging up bad memories, guess I’ve messed up your day. Listen, I start droppping by at least once a month.”
Elaine shook her head. “Actually son, it was good to tell someone. Something this foul is a heavy weight to carry. Don’t let it bother you, this happened long ago. Ancient history.”
Luther nodded. “Ancient histroy for sure. Well Mom, I have to be running. I’ll get Anne to drop by later this week so you two can play some cards or look at some photoalbums.”
Elaine smiled again, "Luther, Anne is a good woman. She hates playing cards and looking at photoalbums, but she does this with me for you. I feared that you would never find a wife at one time, guess I was wrong."
Luther was almost out the door when Elaine suddenly said, “There is one more thing Luther, I have to tell you though I wouldn't put any stock in it. The summer after my father shot Edna; Ed McDonald came by our house and talked with my mother. He asked if Edna was feeling better, no one in Glen Roy knew she was dead. When my mother asked why he wanted to know he said he saw her stalking about his backyard. I think Ed was drunk, but some deep part of me believes that Edna is still alive. Maybe I’m crazy.”
Luther waved and said, “Thanks for adding that comforting footnote. Bye mom.” He closed the door then thought ‘God, please say she’s crazy.'

Luther didn’t tell Kate about Edna, he knew his wife would just dismiss the whole thing as a bad joke. But something in Luther knew his mother had told the truth, though he dismiised the part about Edna being alive, and he decided that he should get on with his life rather then thinking about morbid subjects like mad Aunt Edna and Ma Irving’s murder. For awhile, his life got back to normal.
Winter came and soon Luther found himsef behind the wheel of a snowplow for more the fifty hours a week. Though he put the story of Edna out of his mind, it was always in the darkest corners of his thoughts. He started to daydream about Edna while plowing a driveway and his momentary lapse in attention resulted in him plowing into the back of a man’s SUV. After getting into an intense verbal fight and handing out a lot of cash, Luther decided that he would purge himself of any thought of the monsterous Edna.
Funny thing was though that although he had never seen her, her image had become ingrained in his thoughts. He could see a withered old woman in a rocking chair wearing a tattered yellow dress and peering out a window. And when she smiled in his mind’s eye he could see those unnatural black teeth. The image of a woman he had never known would send cold shivers up his spine when ever her face showed itself in his thoughts.

Luther and Kate where lying beside the Christma tree, which they had neglected to take down, passing a bottle of wine back and fourth. Dick Clark was on the televison, ringing in another knew year. Outside their home, a fierce blizzard was assualting Glen Roy. The sound of howling wind echoed through the entire house. Once again Edna showed her ugly face in Luther’s thoughts.
Luther turned to his wife and asked, “Kate, do you believe in, uh, monsters.”
Kate, wearing the black langerie Luther had bought her for Christmas, took a sip of whine and laughed. “What are you talking about honey, this hardly seems like the right holiday for this conversation.”
Luther started skratching his hair, something he did when he was nervous. “Seriously, do you think that maybe there are things on Earth that would be called monsters. Unnatural, evil things that might look human and aren’t.”
Kate smiled slyly. “What are you trying to tell me Luther dear? Are you going to tell me you’re a werewolf or something.”
“No,” he replied softly, “but maybe people can be so evil inside, it twists what they are outside. Maybe some people are shaped more after what they are in their minds.”
Kate lowered the bottle of whine and moved closer to Luther. She said, “My mother used to tell me about sea monsters and ancient curses, she believed in them. That doesn’t mean it is real Luther. Is this all about what happened to Ms. Irving.”
Luther picked up the wine and took a large swig. He lowered the bottle and said, “I’m just being an idiot. Forget I brought it up. Happy New Year.”
“I already forgot and Happy New Year to you to.”

The next morning Theo and Luther where chopping wood behind the house. They had nearly finished splitting a whole cord of wood when Luther put down the axe and turned to his partner and friend.
Luther said, “Theo, you know everyone around here. If I wanted to found out about some local folklore, who would I go to.”
Theo asked, “Why do you want to know that?”
Luther shrugged, thinking of a quick and harmless lie. “Me and Kate where talking about local folklore and she seems to be genuinly interested. Maybe I could find some stories to tell her from one of the old citizens around here.”
Theo began to think then said, “There is an old Idian, lives not far from here, his name is Tom Blackmore. He knows every bit of folklore and bullshit story you would ever want to know. I don’t know how he feels about strangers popping by his house.”
“Thanks Theo.”

Luther didn’t know what was compelling him anymore; he didn’t know why he was standing on Tom Blackmore’s porch. Maybe it was because he was bored with snowplowing and this was an exuse to do some snooping around. He pressed the doorbell.
The Indian had his own house; a well constructed log cabin that seemed to be the work of a master craftsman, and a large plot of land. A large truck was parked in his driveway.
‘This man does Ok for himself.’ Luther thought.
The door opened and a tall man with long raven hair and features of stone stood before a nervous Luther. Tom seemd to look him over then said, “What do you want?”
Luther replied, “A friend said you knew about some folklore around here, some local legends. I’m actually very interested in the subject.”
Tom’s expression was impossible to read. He said, “Your not selling anything are you? Had a guy come here last week to sell me insurance, I don’t like that.”
“No,” Luther said, “a mutual friend said that you know about the local history.”
Tom stood still. “I know a few things.”
Luther didn’t know what to say. Tom said to him, “You know, a friendly conversation does sounds nice. Just as long as you aren’t selling anything.”
Tom led Luther into his home. The walls where decorated with Native American art and paintings. A large bear rug was sprawled across the floor; a bowl of apples was placed at the bear’s gaping mouth.
“What’s the apples for?” Luther asked.
“The bear’s spirit,” Tom replied, “a gift in the animal’s honor so that its spirit will not be angry, an old tradition. Please have a seat.”
Luther sat down on a wooden chair. “A friend said that you know about local folklore, I wanted to know if there is any stories about the area around Glen Roy. It’s a few miles down the road.”
Tom, who had been looing away from Luther, suddenly turned around and looked at Luther. The Indian, who seemed deadly serios, asked, “What do you want to know about that place?”
Luther looked away from Tom’s stoney staire. Luther said, “I want to know if you heard any stories about any odd happenings around the area of Glen Roy? Something unnatural.”
Tom turned and looked into the crackling fire in his large fireplace. The light of the flames danced on his face. He seemed to be deep in thought. He said, “Glen Roy was once where a forgotten tribe of Indians lived, maybe a thousand years ago. The Tribe doesn’t have a name because they wanted no name. My people where hunters. We once roamed this land in search of wild animals so that we could feed our village. The animals this tribe hunted where other tribes, th beast they hunt was their fellow man.”
“What?”
Tom seemed to be in a trance as he looked at the fire. “This tribe would hunt down noble tribes, slaughter warriors, women, children. They would skin the bodies to wear the skins, they made suits of armour from the bones of natives they murdered. The camp where they lived was full of black Totem Poles, but they Gods they worship where ones my people never knew of or refused to accept. They worshipped gods of death, destruction, and evil. Tribes across this entire land feared them, they believed that these dark gods had infested this tribe, made them inhuman.”
“I never heard of anything like this.”
Tom closed his eyes. “Somethings shouldn’t be spoken of. All the great tribes from across the land formed and alliance, they fell on the camp of this dark tribe and slaughtered them as they had slaughtered countless others, but that was not the end. The elders of the different tribes said that every trace of this obscenity had to be erased from the land, the bodies, the totems to the gods of darkness where buried deep beneath the earth. They hoped this would end the pestilence of this nameless tribe.”
Luther didn’t like where this was going. “Do you believe something is still there, under Glen Roy?”
Tom kneeled down, picked up and poker and started tending to the fire. “Beneath that town is a monument to something so infested with darkness that I doubt it will ever go away. My people have avoided that land because they knew the dark tribe’s power was still there, just far beneath the Earth. They believed that any child, born under the right conditions and in the right place, would be infected by this ancient power. That the souls of these butchers would be given life and walk this land again. Only one child was ever afflicted with this curse.”
Luther asked, “If this is such a secret for your people, why have you told me so quickly.”
Tom turned to Luther and replied, “Because I know who you are and I know why you came. I was in the woods that night when your grandfather buried the body of that thing in the ground. I was also there a year later when it regained its power and rose from the ground again. I’ve seen it in the woods, I’ve seen its tracks and I’ve felt its presence.”
“Come on, this can’t be true.”
Tom stood. “You knew this was true for more then a few months. You just can’t accept it, don’t blame you really, it is hard to swallow. But I’ve seen things walk this Earth that you couldn’t possibly imagine.”
Luther was shaking his head. “This is crazy.”
“Go then,” Tom said. “Go to the house where that thing lived for so long. If you are so sure that it isn’t there, then go tonight. When you see what you are meant to see, leave this place.”
Luther asked, “If this thing is so evil, why are you still here?”
“Because,” Tom said, “it has been the given duty of my bloodline to make sure that what sits under Glen Roy and any thing its pestilence might spawn never leave that place.”
Luther looked down at his feet. “Asuming this is real, why hasn’t it killed more people? Why does it stay in Glen Roy.”
“It is smart and does not want attention drawn to itself, but its compulsion to savage can only be put off so long.” Tom started to walk towards Luther. “It doesn’t leave the land because it still draws its power from what is under that town. But, if it should ever unearth what was sealed under the ground so long ago, then it and many other dark creatures would spread out from this place, across the country. That is what my family has prevented for so long.”
“Can it be killed?”
Tom shook his head again. “It was born part human but as time passes, the shackles of humanity are cast of. When your grandfather shot it, he killed the only thing that was human in it. When it awoke, it was purely a creature of the darkest power. Death has no meaning for something that is not alive. This thing is more a force of nature, or dark nature, then a mortal creature. But, with enough skill or luck, one might be able to trap it.”
Luther got up. “I guess I’m going to my great Aunt Edna’s house tonight.”
Tom looked doubtful. “May I ask my you are going? Is finding out if what I’ve told you is true worth risking your life? I assure, this thing won’t let you walk in and out.”
“I,” Luther said, “I don’t care. I can’t afford to believe a word you say unless I know it’s real. If what you say is true then I have to get my wife to leave a house she loves. If I’m going to walk into the my house, grab her and take her out agiasnt her will; risking a divorce in the process, then I have to be damn sure I’m doing because she is in danger. Not because I fell for some BS told to me by my mother and an Indian, no offense. The only way to do that is to go to that attic, the one Edna lived in.”
Tom smiled. “You have chased something you don’t think exists or you are about to walk in the lair of something that will kill you in a second because you want to protect your wife. Seems your damned either way.”
Luther looked down at his hand, at the wedding band on his finger. “I have to know what’s going on.”
Tom went over to a coat rack and got a denim coat and hat. He said, “Well, I wouldn’t be worthy of my family line if I let you go of alone. You’ll need a guide at the least, your totally defenseless agaisnt this.”
Luther reached for Tom’s hand and shook it. “Thanks Tom, known me ten minutes yet you’ll help me out.”

A blizzard of unbelievable streangth descended on Glen Roy that night, Luther could barely see five meters infront of his truck as he drove. Tom, who seemed cramped in the truck’s small cab, seemed to be thinking about something far off.
Luther suddenly laughed. “Damn, I’mTony Curtis.”
Tom turned to him and asked, “What are you talking about?”
“I saw this movie once with Tony Curtis, I forget the name. Anyways, a girl starts to grow this huge lump on her neck. It turns out to be a thousand-year-old evil Indian medician man. So Tony Curtis finds a good Indian medicine man to help him do battle with the bad one. Long story short, good wins, the world is saved.”
Tom seemed puzzled. “Why would a Indian medicine grow inside a girls neck? I can think of nicer places to be born frankly.”
Luther shrugged. “Guess it was a slow year in Hollywood.”
Tom laughed. “My father always told me the pale faces where strange with their humor.”
Luther laughed, though it only masked the terror that grew inside him with each passin second. The two men, practically strangers, where now unlikely allies agasint something that did or did not exist.

When Luther pulled into the driveway of the house his mother had onced lived in long ago, the light of day had faded away and night now covered the land. He got out of the truck, as did Tom, and they both looked ahead.
Before them was very long road which was covered with deep snow, Luther’s truck couldn’t make it through that. Barren oak trees where standing along the length of the road on either side, looking like mammoth sentinels of stone with many arms. At the end of the driveway was a small, two-story house, which had a wall missing and a part of the roof had collapsed into the structure. Facing them was the attic window; Luther could envision some faceless monster looking at him, wearing a tattered yellow dress.
Tom said, “After you.”
Luther reluctantly began marching forward. The snow went up to his knees and moving forward wasn’t an easy task. Luther said, “Damn, wish I brought the snowplow.”
Then Tom passed him, taking great strides and seeming to move easily through the deep snow. “Keep on moving. We want to reach the house before morning.”
Luther walked rapidly then asked, “Have you ever been to this house before?”
Tom shook his head. “I due not wish to confront this thing, not yet anyways. I’ve merely stand guard and watch what it does.”
Luther, who laboured to move forward, seemed to be getting unsure. “Tom, if this thing is real, running back to my truck isn’t going to be easy.”
Tom shrugged. “Worry about that when you are running back to the truck. Keep your eyes open for now.”
Luther continued to walk when he noticed something in the attic window, two red dots that seemed to be looking at him then suddenly dissapearing. “Tom, what will it look like,” Luther said, “I mean, will it look like a human or like something out of hell.”
Tom said, “I do not know, but it will not look like anything you’ve seen. The Dark Ones always choose forms that will disgust you, they prey on that.”
They finally reached the end of the driveway and walked to the rundown house; the fear in Luther’s stomach was becoming unbearable. He felt like he was in a nightmare that he wanted to wake up from, but this was reality he thought. There is no waking from that.
“If you wish to turn back, it would not be dis-honorable.” Tom said. He looked up at the attic window and suddenly reached up into the air with one arm. He started making odd gestures with his hands and seemed to be chanting in a very low voice.
Luther couldn’t believe what he saw for a brief second. As he watched Tom’s finger move around in the air, there seemed to be a faint green streak of light that followed it, a ribbon of green energy. It was soon gone though. Luther, in a state of shock, asked, “What the hell was that?”
Tom grinned, he seemed very confident all of a sudden. “I’m calling upon my ancestors to aid us.”
Luther turned towards the house then kicked down the front door, it being on one hinge made this easy, and it fell to the ground with a wooden thud. They room they where standing in was dark, though Luther could make out an old table and kitchen set.
Luther slapped his forhead. “Damn, I forgot a flashlight.”
Tom reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a large flashlight. “Well,” Tom said, “at least one of us has come prepared.”
Streams of white flakes came in through the broken windows and open door; everything was covered with a thick layer of snow. Luther was about to say something when he heard the noise; Tom did to. Two floors above, a sound of a squeeky rocking chair echoed down through the house.
Tom turned to Luther and asked, “Have you seen enough?”
Luther couldn’t explain what he felt next. He wanted to flee, go home, get Kate and go as far South as geogrophy would let him, but alas, something was holding him back. Though the fear was almost too much to bare, something in him had to see whatever was at the center of this whole thing. He stood at the brink of a world that terrified him but captivated him as well. For that moment he was not Luther Riker, lawnmower and snowblower, he was a mortal about to throw himself into the gaping unknown. Luther thought death could be around any corner and this made him feel more alive then anything ever had. His every sense was tingling and honed, time passed slowly and every moment was long and drawn out.
Luther replied in a rock solid voice, “I have to go on Tom, you go back if you want.”
Tom smiled. “I don’t give up easy.”
They made their way through the house, passing torn up furniture, discarded books and broken pictures. Tom shinned the flashlight around the room when it fell on the altar of bones. Luther and Tom both whinced at the gruesome spectacle. A pile of human bones stripped clean where arranged in a pile about four feet high. A single skull sat on top; the back had been cracked off in a savage manner. It looked almost like a humongous jaw had taken a bite out of the skull.
Tom looked around then whispered, “Look at the walls.”
The beam of the flashlight revealed that the walls had been decorated with small patches of human and animal skin, Luther remembered the story his mother told him about how Edna had skinned the poor children and used their skin to make a blanket. Surely this was the work of Edna.
Luther asked, “Why does it do this?”
“Because,” Tom replied grimly, “this entire building has been made into a temple for the dark Gods that spawned this beast. It is meant to receive and harness their dark power so that it can grow in power.”
Luther spotted the stairwell that led to the second floor. Tom went up first with Luther right behind him. The second floor was in shambles, Luther could see outside through a huge whole in the wall.
The clouds above the house seemed to be moving in an odd way, they seemed to move like liqued and where approaching the house like a giant wall of water. A crest of white snow proceeded it.
Tom seemed impressed. “It has gained much power since last time I came this close. Even the elements are responive to its commands.”
Luther suddenly asked, “What’s to keep it from killing us.”
“Nothing, but we can hope for the best and maybe get lucky.”
They both looked up and saw the trap door in the ceiling, which led to the attic. Luther said, “Give me the flashlight, I’ll go up first.”
Tom pulled the flashlight away and muttered, “You have no clue what you are about to walk into. You have a wife, go back to her.”
Luther grabbed the flashlight from Tom. “Yes, I have a wife. But if this thing wanted to kill us, I think it would have done so already. Now, let’s see what is at the center of this mess.”
Tom stepped away and Luther reached up and pulled the trap door down, a small ladder unfolded then landed at his feet. Above was an abyss, darkness that contained an unspeakable horror, yet Luther Riker went up into the attic. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure Tom could hear it.
Luther didn’t realize it but all trace of skeptism had been purged from his mind, it had been replaced by expectation. He felt like he was going through a metamorphosis, from ordinary human to something else, something that was about to glimpse at the dark inner workings of the world. He braced himself for anything he might see.
Luther was standing in the attic. At the far end was an empty rocking chair moving in the wind. He looked around and realized pictures of his grandparents where on the walls, everything was neat and tidy accept for the mirror on the wall, it had been smashed to pieces. Luther thought ‘It comes in here so it will feel like it’s still human, have pictures of family and keep its room clean like a good girl. But the mirror, it saw what it looked like in the mirror and went into a fit of rage.’
He looked down at Tom and said, “There is nothing up here.”
Tom nodded. “Maybe it is best we didn’t get near this abmonation. We should leave now, before it returns.”
Luther then asked suddenly, “Does this place have a basement?”
“Why?”
Luther left the attic then quickly made his way back down to the ground floor, walked past the altar of bones and entered the kitchen. After looking around for awhile he found a trap door in the floor. Tom walked up behind and said, “Be careful, it might be down there.”
Luther opened the trap door. He saw a stairwell leading down into a basement, there where strange scratching sounds coming from below, like a stick being scraped agaisnt rock. Luther held the flashlight before him like a weapon and slowly descended the stairs. He entered a large open basement with dirt walls and a cement floor. In the center of the room was a gigantic pit with mounds of dirt surrounding it.
Luther called, “Tom, you better see this!”
Tom awkwardly went down the stairs and now the two of them where standing at the threshold of the pit. They simutainiously looked over the edge and finally found what they where looking for.
The pit went down for almost fifty feet, a great hole dug out of the cement and dirt. Luther could see something at the bottom, something that was digging frantically and making odd grunting sounds like a hog. He also saw part of a totem pole protruding from the edge of the pit about half-way down, there where several skeletons also in the walls of the pit. The stench of rot was so great Luther had to fight the urge to vommit.
Tom gasped. “This thing is trying to dig up totems and bodies of the dark tribe. That is why it hasn’t been very active, it’s been busy doing this. Imagine, alone in this wreck, digging endlessly. We can’t let it succeed or that thing down there will only be the first of many, the darkness that infested her will spread across everything.”
Luther looked at the creature closely; it still was digging frantically, it failed to notice the men looking down at it. It had the form of an old woman, but there was something about the way its skin glistend in the beam of the flashlight, it reminded Luther of the skin of a slimy slug. Its hands where much larger then human hands and had two thumbs on each hand, its arms where long and seemed to move like boneless tentacles rather then structured human arms. It didn’t have legs but rather a long undulating mass of flesh that resembled the tail, it seemed to throb and pulsate and light was generated from inside it. This odd creature, a freakish creation of powers dark and cruel, was wearing a tatterred yellow dress.
Though this monster was a thing to be hated for sure, Luther couldn’t help but feel pity for this thing. It had been born a innocent child, unaware that fate had conspired to make it a monster.
It stopped digging and looked up at them. Its face resembled some freakish horror rather then anything that had ever been human. Its eyes glowed like firery ambers, its knose was flattened and now there was only one nostril, yellow fluid flowed out of it. Its mouth and jaw looked like the mouth of an eel accept that it had rows of jagged, ebony teeth which revealed themselves to Luther when the beast smiled. That smile made ever nerve in Luther’s body fill with ice.
“Jesus mother god,” Luther said under his breath.
The creature’s arms suddenly whipped out and grabbed the sides of the pit. It started pulling itself up towards the two onlookers; its rate of ascent was much faster then its form might have suggested. It spoke, but the words did not come from its mouth. It seemed that every part of the house virberated with the noise of the thing talking, as if the house was the creature’s vocalcords.
“Come,” its oozing voice beckoned, “come down here. Please come down here and share in the fun. See some things that are to come.”
Luther grabbed Tom’s arm and screamed, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Tom shook his head. “I think we can stop but we must act fast.”
Tom rushed over to a large wooden table with a large machine bolted to its top. He yelled, “Help me throw this into the pit.”
Luther rushed to the other end of the table and lifted. Both he and Tom quickly moved the table to the end of the pit and tipped it so that it fell down. The creature was almost out when the heavy table came crashing down on it, forcing it to the bottom of the pit. The creature was pinned under it, but it simply ripped the table into with a streanght that was awsome to behold.
Luther turned to Tom and said, “Now what?”
“Starting pushing the dirt back into pit. Let’s bury this bitch just like the things that spawned her.”
Luther and Tom both started pushing the mounds of dirt into the pit, which fell like an avalanche of gravel. The creature screamed which really sounded like the whole house screaming. The two men continued with their task undaunted until half the pit was buried again and any sign of the creature was gone.
“Is that it?” Luther gasped.
Tom raised his hand into the air again and started waving it around. He shouted, “I must create a seal so that the creature’s power will be bound beneath the earth.”
Streams of multicolored light started flowing from Tom’s hand and soon there was a tornado of light directly above the Indian. Tom began to chant and the sound of it seemed to be louder then any noise Luther had ever heard. Tom lowered his hand and the tornado of light descended into the pit. When the streams of light hit the dirt on the bottom of the pit, the ground began moving like molten lava. Luther watchd all this in silence, every image he saw was burned his mind. He never would have guessed that Tom Blackmore welded such power.
Tom made his hand into a fist. The bubbling dirt at the bottom of the pit turned to stone which seemd to be oddly luminescent. Then the lightshow ended. The bottom of the pit looked like it had been filled with cement, Luthor could hardly believe it had been loose dirt only seconds before.
Luthor turned to Tom and said, “I thought we wouldn’t be able to fight it.”
Tom shrugged. “I didn’t think we could. It was fate that providided a chance to trap this creation of evil in the exact spot where its power came from. Fitting end.”
Luthor looked down into the pit. “That thing down there, what the hell was it?”
Tom turned away from the pit. “That was your great Aunt Edna, banished from the surface world till either the evil that is down in that pit withers or it finds a way out.”
“A way out?”
“Edna,” Tom spoke, “was only one creation this dark place can create. The creatures it spawns seem to want to free what is down there. I sure time and chance will allow this place to create another creature such as Edna. I or my children or their children will be ready for generations to come.”
Luther sighed. “Sounds kind of bleak Tom.”
“It’s my destiny, now let us get out of this accursed place.”

Luther and Tom slowly made their way back to the truck at the end of the driveway. The snowstorm had ceased completely and the sky was crystal clear, stars blazed in the heavens with an intensity Luthor had never seen before. Tom turned to him and said, “That is for us you know.”
“I see,” Luther muttered, “everyone hails the conquering hereos, even the stars. Yesterday those where nothing but balls of burning gas in the sky to me, after what I’ve seen today, yeah, I can believe there is something more to stars.”
Tom stopped. “We didn’t conquer anything. We simply cured one sympton of a disease, a disease that is still below your feet.”
“One the battle but the war is far from over, is that what you mean Tom?”
“Yeah. So what is next for you pale face? Are you going to take your wife away from this unholy place?”
Luther pondered Tom’s question for a second then replied, “No. I’ve got a good business here and a pretty nice home. After what I’ve been through, I don’t think I’ll be afraid of much anymore.”
They reached Luther’s truck. He got in but Tom remained outside. Luther asked, “Want a lift home Tom? Seems the least I can do.”
Tom shook his head. “I’ll walk. I would like to consult with my ancestors, tell them of this. Well, I guess this is goodbye for now Luther.”
Luther sighed. “Tom, if you ever need help with this particular problem again, look me up.”
Tom laughed. “I look forward when we get to work together once again.”
Luther chuckled then started his truck and drove away. He had seen a lot and maybe the wonders he had witnessed might have driven some insane, but he handled like it was just another day on a job.
Luther slapped the steering wheel. “Not bad for a lowly electrician. I think I figured out why Edna’s picture wasn’t in the family album.”

Kate was waiting in the living room when Luther came in. She got up and threw her arms around him and asked, “Where were you Luther?”
Luther kissed his wife on the forhead and said, “Little family problem I had to resolve. It’s over now.”
“Oh,” Kate mentioned, “Theo phoned and says that you have to be in early tomorrow.”
Luther smirked. “Honey, do me a favor and tell Theo that I won’t be in for a few days, I’ve been through hell tonight.”

It waited in the darkness as it had waited for a thousand years. One of its children had almost freed it but two mortals had prevented this. It didn’t grow angery; it didn’t grieve over its lost chance at freedom. It just waited like it always had.
Someday it would be free and wreak a terrible vengeance upon the world of mortals; legions of its children would swarm across the Earth. It would just have to wait.
Down in the darkness beneath the small hamlet of Glen Roy, the ageless evil waited, plotting what its next move would be.