Tag: Horror

Anaideia 33

The eyes of the man, our captor, widened in awe at the horrifying and unbridled majesty of Penelope. He was slow to raise arms, not that it would have mattered, and his comrades scrambled to figure a plan of attack. The captor on the right opened fire but the speed of a bullet was no match for Penelope’s supernatural and inhuman powers. She lashed out at her attacker, reaching for his ankles and smashed his body into a bloodied mess on the cavern wall. The captor on the left panicked and attempted to flee but was met with claws burrowing into his belly and bits of stomach and intestines spewed out.

The man was speechless and three of us in the cage were powerless with him. He was alone and Penelope towered over him then hissed and the man fell to his knees to beg forgiveness from a seeming beast that knew no mercy. “Penelope,” he pleaded with tears streaming down his face, “you’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever witnessed! I never meant you no harm! Please! Can you find the humanity within yourself to let me go?! Your blood is my blood! You can have all this land! It’s been in my family for generations! It’s all yours! All I’ve ever wanted was a continuation of your kind!”

I looked deep into her glowing yellow eyes and for my sake and the sake of Dale and Old Jim, I prayed that there was a shred of humanity buried deep within her. But if there was, she wasn’t prepared to share it with the man on his knees. She raised her giant right hand and swatted it at the man’s head, knocking it clean off and it rolled towards the cage. When it stopped, it revealed to us that the last sensation that man ever knew was abject terror.

I looked at the head and then at Penelope. She approached the cage and glared at us intensely and it was the first time I had ever gotten a clean look at her face. She didn’t hiss or growl. She looked at me not with malice but with curiosity and while her alien features were apparent, I also saw the human. Though behind a cage and of no threat, I raised my hands in the air. “Penelope, I don’t know if you can understand me,” I said, “but I want to thank you for freeing us. I have a greater understanding of you now. I beg of you to let us be. We will not pursue you or harm you in any way.”

She studied us for what felt like eternity and then she placed her face close to the cage and I lower my hand. She sniffed at it for a bit before blinking then standing straight up and once again revealing her majesty. She blinked once more indicating her farewell then rushed out of the cavern like a fading dream.

I exhaled a sigh of relief and immediately crawled out from the bottom of the cage towards Vic. He was barely alive. His intestines were splayed out on the ground while his legs laid several feet away. I knelt down by his side to give him a sense of comfort before he died.

“Thank you for rescuing me,” I said as I laid my hand on his chest.

But in his dying daze he looked at me and with his last bit of strength, he reached up and grabbed me by my throat and blood spewed from his mouth he uttered his dying words. “I’m dead because of you!” he gurgled.

I struggled to pry his fingers from my neck and Dale rushed to my side to wrestle away his arm. But his strength slowly gave way and his eyes rolled back in his head and his hand fell flatly to the ground. And when he released me, I fell backwards and coughed uncontrollably to regain my breath.

“Christ!” I spat out.

Dale did a Hail Mary to mourn the passing of Vic then laid his hands on his eyes to close them. “Do we bury him?” he asked.

I look around to the cavern to the other bodies splayed about then I stand up to look at the carcass of the dead Scotsman once more. “Leave him,” I said. “This was what he wanted.”

I unlatched the cage to free Jim and the three of us traversed the narrow chambers of the cave and up to the opening where evening greeted us. On the outside we felt like three fallen angels that had escaped our hellish torment. Then each of us mounted one of the three horses deserted by our captors and proceeded down the trail.

We said nothing to each other.

As night fell and the moon hovered gloriously above the mountain tops, I saw Penelope silhouetted against the sky like a lone specter haunting the valley. She watched us trot away and then she disappeared into the darkness.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 32

Vic wiped the blood of the knife on his faded pant leg. The body of the prisoner whitened as the darkened blood flowed from his body and mixed into the sand beneath our feet. Dale, usually calloused to these sights, growled and moaned. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he told Vic.

“I won’t say it again mate,” he warned, “I had little option.”

“You should’ve stabbed me instead,” said Old Jim.

Vic spat and knelt down in front of the bamboo which caged us in. He began sawing away at the hallowed wood and it didn’t take long to break it free. “You see this?” he asked. “This is all that stands in the way between Penelope and us once we unchain her. Do you want to be the next one in her belly?”

We said nothing as he finished the job. He began bending the sticks back to clear an opening then he placed the knife back in his boot. “Alright,” Vic instructed me, “once I’m out, drag the body through and place it as close as you can to Penelope. I’m gonna start pulling up those spikes. I don’t know how deep they go so I might need your help.”

I nodded reluctantly. “Vic, if we make it out of this,” I said, “you and me are through.”

“Just do as I say,” he spat.

Vic crawled through the opening and once on the other side, he stood up and quietly inched toward Penelope. I picked up the prisoner by the armpits and dragged his body towards the opening. I went through and reached back inside to pull him out. The prisoner, drained of all blood, was light. I finished dragging him as close as I felt comfortable and dropped him limply to the ground.

Meanwhile, Dale and Jim clutched the bamboo bars tightly as they watched the two of us on the outside. Vic was struggling with the spikes so I quietly move towards him and grabbed the top of the spike. While he pulled the chain, I lifted with all my strength. Despite the physical exertion, we tried not to grunt out of fear of disturbing Penelope who continued to rest soundly.

Finally the spike budged. Seconds later it was broken free. “One down, two more to go,” Vic whispered.

“We don’t want to loosen all four of the chains?” I asked.

“We might need a second of resistance,” he suggested.

We broke loose the second spike. Penelope was still undisturbed. But the third and final spike took some doing. With our strength nearly depleted, we started to loudly grunt. When it broke loose, the metal clanged against solid rock which echoed into the cavern. Penelope slightly shifted in her slumber which caused us to stop dead in our tracks. She rolled over and then grunted a loud snore.

“Fuck me, that was close,” Vic whispered.

“What do we do now?”

“We go back into the cage and we wait.”

With only Penelope’s hind leg chained, we tip toe back to Dale and Jim. When we reached the cage, Vic signaled for me to go in first. I bent back the bamboo and crawled inside. Then Vic got on his knees and did the same. When he was halfway through, the bamboo caught on the ass of his pants and broke.

It wasn’t a penetrating sound but it was enough to wake up Penelope. We froze as we watched her stand straight up and glare at us with glowing eyes. “Vic! Hurry the fuck up!” I yell.

But Penelope screamed that ungodly sound then effortlessly broke the last spike and charged toward the cage. Vic attempted to wiggle his way through to no avail. She went right past the prisoner’s body and latched onto Vic’s legs. She bit into his midsection and tossed him to the other side of the cave where he laid there with his torso separated from his lower half and bone and organs were exposed to all.

But Vic, still alive, begged her to eat the corpse of the prisoner. She responded with ear piercing screeches. But before she could finish him, our captors entered the cavern with guns ready.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 31

The torches lit the tavern a burning red; this was literal hell. We were ordered to our feet and then rounded into the bamboo cage with the other prisoner. The captor locked the latch tight behind us and cackled. Then the leader placed his hands on the cage to give us one final warning. “Penelope’s got her belly full, so she’s fat and happy,” he said. “But in a few hours she’ll be up and at it again. So say your prayers and bid each other farewell. Cuz you ain’t got long.”

Penelope was balled up and sound asleep and the captors exited the cavern. Dale nudged the barely cognizant prisoner still shaken by his comrades death. “Hey buddy, are you hangin in there?” he asked.

The prisoner licked his lips and attempted to form words. “Water,” was all he said.

“Nah buddy. We ain’t got none of that.”

Vic was standing at the edge of the cage and looking at Penelope while out of earshot from the others. It wasn’t a mystery as to what he was thinking. “What’s the plan?” I ask.

“In my boot,” he said. “In my boot, I still have the knife. They didn’t think to check there.”

“So we cut ourselves free and then what?”

“All we have is the knife. They got the guns. We’re gonna need an extra set of hands. Specifically Penelope’s.”

“How do you plan to do that?”

“We’re gonna have to cut her free.”

“By pulling those spikes out of the ground?”

“You got it.”

I nodded. That seemed like the only sensible option. “How long do you reckon it’ll take to cut through the bamboo?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t take long.”

“It looks like it’ll take some doin to get those spikes loose. What if she wakes up before then?”

“She’ll need a distraction.”

“Like what?”

Vic rubbed his chin. He looked at the diminished prisoner and I knew right then I wouldn’t like what he had to say. “You’re gonna have to give her something else to eat,” he said.

“Vic, for Christ sake that man has gone through enough.”

He lowered his voice. “Look at the man! He ain’t gonna make it anyway.”

“So what do you expect me to do? Toss him at Penelope?!”

“Not if we put him out of his misery first.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“Look! We don’t have much time and there’s too many unpredictable variables. We can sacrifice him now so there’s no pushback when the time comes. The timing of this has to be perfect. There is no margin of error.”

“No. Absolutely not. I’m drawing the line here.”

Vic grabbed the back of my head and pulled me closer. “Listen mate,” he menacingly whispered, “I’m gonna do it if you like it or not. You can try to stop me but I’ll only end up using your body instead of his. So what’s it gonna be?”

Vic released me and I stepped back. “You’re a goddamn madman, you know that?” I say.

“Aye.”

Vic reached into his boot to pull out the knife. He sat calmly next to the battered prisoner and wrapped his arm around him. “You know, they used to tell us a story in the highlands when I was a boy. It’s about an old man visited by death. Do you know it?” he ask.

The prisoner did not.

“One day an old man overburdened by a bundle of wood on his back let the sticks fall to the ground. He cursed and called out to death to take him right then and there. To his astonishment, the prince of death appeared and asked the old man why he had called. Through fear and trembling, the old man asked the prince to load the sticks onto his back. But nay mate, it was too late. You see, the old man had unwittingly called for his final hour. So how will you respond when your time comes? By calm resolve or through fear and trembling?”

The prisoner shook his head in confusion.

“Aye mate,” Vic continued, “your prince has come.”

Vic plunged the dagger into the prisoner’s side and the prisoner gasped then fell to the ground. There were no cries; no final grasps for the last straws of life. He bled out and withered away.

The others were silent.

“Goddamn you Vic,” I said. “Goddamn you to hell.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 30

Old Jim lagged behind the group and screeched in agony with each passing hop. He’d stop frequently and begged his overseer to unshackle him. “Please,” he yelped, “I’m just an old sonuva bitch. My knees don’t work good!”

Out of pity, I looked to my captor for an act of clemency. “Untie his ankles!” I begged. “For fuck’s sake, he can’t run very far!”

But the man only jabbed the Uzi into my ribs. “Will you pipe down!” he said. “Just relax. We don’t have much further to go.”

Lo and behold minutes later we arrived at a clearing in the woods with old rusted machinery littering the forest floor and three tied up horses drinking from a troth. One of the men came forth to dust off old crusted leaves and pine needles to reveal a trap door leading underground. The door lifted and the man waved the Uzi to usher us inside. “Go on now,” he ordered.

With guns to our backs, we were pushed into an underground labyrinth. The cave walls were adorned with lighted torches leading the way. In the distance, the echoing screeches of Penelope could be heard. It was clear then that we were cattle driven to slaughter and the only response we could muster was petrified fear.

This dark labyrinth seemingly extended for miles down twisted paths and narrow passageways before we reached the final hellish cavern where the demon that was Penelope was chained on all fours to anchors burrowed into the earth. She screeched and gnashed to no avail while two unfamiliar men sweated and wept behind lines of bamboo that resembled a makeshift prison. We reached the bottom of the cavern where our captors ordered us to our knees.

“Well boys,” the man told us through ear piercing screams, “this is the end of the line. Those two fellers over there, well, they were looking for Penelope too. But we got to her first.”

One of the other captors opened the bamboo cage and threw a prisoner out. Like us, his hands and ankles were tied and he futilely begged for his life. But the man, our captor, continued to lecture us. “You see,” he continued, “city folk have been coming to these hills for years looking for the legend herself. And the crazy thing is the myth is true! She actually exists! But she’s not yours to claim. Yet a girl’s gotta eat.”

“Please, please! No!” the prisoner begged. But the man grabbed him by the collar and pushed him towards Penelope’s reach. He smacked up against her then fell to the ground. Penelope smelt the man while he quietly wept. Then she bit into his legs which was followed by ungodly screams from the prisoner. Blood gurgled from his mouth as she chewed him up and when she reached his torso he let out one final hair raising screech before his head was swallowed whole. When it was over, the other prisoner gave a panicked cry. The captors guffawed and the leader turned back to us. “What do you think about that?” he asked.

“Thank you for giving us a demonstration,” I said. “You can release us now and you’ll never see us again.”

With Penelope subdued, the other captor undid his suspenders and dropped his pants. He approached her from the rear while trying to stiffen his part and then he penetrated her. Penelope laid there seemingly defeated in a pitiful way. The man, the leader, lashed out. “Pull up your pants there mister!” he ordered. “Don’t do that in front of our guests!”

But the humping only increased in intensity before he climaxed. Penelope was unresponsive as her violator wiped sweat from his brow. “Sorry boss,” he said while he pulled up his pants. “I’ll control myself next time.”

“Goddamn,” the man said to the four of us. “They can’t control their little peckers when they see a naked woman.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked. “Why don’t you kill her and be done with it?”

“Well,” the man began with a degree of sincerity as he spat a luggie, “do you boys ever recall hearing about a certain crash that happened in these hills on January 4th, 1952?”

No one responded.

“Well anyway,” he continued, “there were reports of UFO activity in the area following a fiery crash. We had the government investigating out here but they found nuthin. But there was somethin. You see, on January 5th of nineteen hundred and fifty two, my grandpappy was wondering these hills when he found a wounded creature. It was human-like as he described it, if not slightly larger, but he didn’t know what it was. Well, he dragged it home and it turned out that it was female alien. Being a mountain man with the ways of a mountain man, he had his way with her. Now this alien my pappy found wasn’t known to be violent. He described her as being extraordinarily intelligent and of peaceful ways. But a few months later, after continuous unholy and unsanctified copulation, an abomination was born. The child was violent, only satisfied with the flesh of men. That child is Penelope, who is laying right there.”

“So? What are you going to do with her?” I ask.

“Excellent question,” the man said then knelt in front of me. “This land has been in my family for generations. Everyone has tried to tread upon it: the government, corporations, the city folk. There’s only one way to keep y’all grimy hands off it. And that’s to raise a generation more of these monsters. If I must put the fear of god into fellers that wish to come here then by god that’s what I’ll do.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 29

Dale was planked against a tree with knees bent and pants around his ankles as he desperately tried to shit a dry turd. There was no telling how deep into the mountains we were. The temperature was declining rapidly and thick, cotton-like clouds were forming above. If this day was unsuccessful then we decided to double back to the trail in the morning. Meanwhile, Dale was in immense pain.

“Goddamn,” he kept shouting. “Thank god I won’t have to wipe! My asshole is rubbed raw!”

“Let’s pinch it off Dale,” I said. “We need to keep moving.”

“Alright alright,” he said as he leaned forward and buckled his pants.

Vic returned from his reconnaissance with Jim. They were gone for maybe 30 minutes before climbing out of the brush with urgent news. “I found more blood in the clearing below,” Vic stated. “It’s fresh. We can’t be far off.”

We picked up our things and proceeded down the cliff and into a small opening in the forest where beside a fallen and decaying tree was another spot of yellowish blood. Then we looked for more clues. A few feet deeper into the woods was another fresh batch. “She’s near. I know it,” Vic uttered.

“It can only mean one thing,” said Dale as he pulled out his AK.

It was time to press forward quietly with arms ready. We spread out in a diamond shape formation that we had rehearsed earlier and moved inch by inch. Only the sounds of twigs and brush snapping beneath our feet could be heard. Where are you, you son of a bitch?” Vic whispered.

Then from the left flank, Dale stepped into a shallow pit. A lasso tightened around his feet and he was lifted into the air upside down. “Shit!Goddamnit! Mother fucker!” he yelled. Then we broke formation and rushed towards him. Old Jim was next to fall into a trap. “Ah hell,” he said as he dangled from a tree branch.

In a panic, Vic and I attempted to backtrack away from the two. But like bad fortune, we simultaneously stepped into separate pits then a weighted contraption was triggered and the rope tightened around our ankles. The rope pulled and swept our feet from beneath us and knocking us on our asses and before we knew it all four of us were dangling under trees.

“We can’t be this fucking stupid!” Vic said with beet red face.

“Speak for yourself!” I said. “It’s been nice knowing you fellas! We’re now easy prey for Penelope!”

Vic reached his arms out and ab crunched his hands towards his feet using all his strength in an attempt to loosen the rope. “If I could just get to my knife!” he said.

But a faint laughter interrupted his escape plan. The three roughians from the night before appeared from the brush cackling their heads off.

“I should have known,” I said.

Their antagonistic leader knelt down in front of Vic’s face and laughed some more. “It looks like we caught ourselves some city boys!” he laughed to the others.

“Cut us down!” demanded Vic.

“Now I told you boys that this was private property!” the man retorted.

“You’re full of shit!” said Vic.

The man pulled out a Bowie knife, one not all that dissimilar to Vic’s, and held it in front of his face. “You don’t seem to be in a position to make demands,” he said.

“Fine! Cut us down and we’ll leave!”

The man stood up and resheathed the knife. “Nah I don’t think so,” he said. “Besides, I think I could put y’all into good use.”

He signaled to the other two to cut us down. First, they grabbed our hands and tied them behind our backs. Then they reached above our feet to cut the rope. One by one, we plopped to the ground while our ankles remained lassoed. The man then picked up the Uzi that I dropped in the malaise and held it up. “An Uzi?!” he exclaimed. “Goddamn, you boys were aimin to kill something out here.”

The other two confiscated our weapons and aimed them at us. “Alright,” the man announced, “it might take a little bit but I’m gonna need y’all to start hopping in this direction. Don’t worry, we don’t have far to go.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 28

As night fell, a faint hint of snow seeped through the trees. We climbed through the brush as gently as possible so as to not cause alarm. I made it a point to not have the Uzi on full display as we neared the campfire. About 50 yards out we could make out the few men surrounding it. There was only three of them and along with their horses. Vic shouted out before approaching.

“Hello there!” he yelled.

All three of them leapt up with weapons drawn. “Do not be alarmed!” Vic shouted. “We come in peace! I assure you!”

The men, three roughians with long scraggly beards, slowly reholstered their guns as we came near. Vic lead the pack with his hands in the air. “We’re fellow travelers,” he told them standing at the edge of camp, “all we wish is to warm our bones by the fire.”

The larger man looked him up and down then spat a wad of tobacco. “What happened to yer eye there feller?” he asked.

“I seemed to have misplaced it,” Vic joked.

“I’d say so,” the man said.

“Mind if we have a seat?”

The man didn’t object.

The four of us cautiously sit on one side of the fire while the other three dug into their cans of beans and slop with the juices dripping into their beards. The leader continued to stair at us while we rested our hands over the fire. “Boys got any whiskey?” asked Dale.

“No,” said the man.

We silently resumed warming our bodies while the gang of three scarfed down. One threw his can into the fire then belched. “How comes you fellers ain’t go no horses?” the lead man asked us.

“It’s a long story,” said Vic.

“Well you better get to explainin.”

Sensing the tension, Vic shifted in his seat. “What’s it to you, partner?”

“Four fellers wonderin the woods with no horses. There must be sumthin wrong with y’alls.”

“Maybe something is. Does that bother you?”

“You’re goddamn right it does! Sumthin about it don’t smell right.”

I slowly yet stealthily reached into my coat and placed my hand on the Uzi fearing something might go down. Vic meanwhile glared at the man from across the fire. “I’m open to having a cordial conversation with you, mate,” said Vic. “I told you that we’re fellow travelers. There’s not much use in knowing anything more than that.”

“I’ll be the one to determine that!”

“Mate,” Vic calmly said, “there are terrible things in these hills. A man like yourself can easily go missing.”

“What are you insinuating, mate? What’s a one-eyed peckerwood like yourself gonna do?”

“What makes you think I’m talking about me?”

The man laughed and spat into the fire. “You’re going after Penelope! Can you believe that shit?!” he asked his comrades. “A bunch of city boys chasing after an imaginary princess in the woods! I’ll be goddamned!”

“She’s real,” said Vic, “and she ain’t no princess.”

“Yeah, well, I ain’t seen nuthin like that in my lifetime,” the man grunted. “You boys must be on sumthin. You see that trail over yonder?” The man pointed behind him. “In the mornin y’all should go headed that way. There ain’t nuthin in these hills for ya.”

“If you don’t mind me saying so,” said Vic, “I’ll be the one to determine that.”

“Now look here boy,” the man said sternly, “I’ll give you the night to rest up. But if I find you again, I’ll hog tie you and drag your ass back to the city. You hear? This here is private property.”

Vic didn’t reply. He picked up his gatherings and began setting up his own camp several feet away. The rest of us sat silently around the campfire while the three men with horses belched and farted. I actually slept good that night. But in the morning, we awoke to find the men and their horses gone. I walked over to Vic’s spot where he was packing up his things.

“We’re on to something,” he kept saying to me like a raving madman.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Those men were hiding something. This ain’t no private property.”

“How do you figure?”

“It’s just a hunch.”

“Vic, we can’t keep going on hunches. We aren’t going to survive for much longer.”

“Then I reckon you ought to go walkin down that trail!”

“I might do!”

“Well go on!”

“Boys boys boys!” Dale intervened. “I say fuck this shit and let’s go home.”

“So this is it then?” asked Vic. “After all I did for you? I shot up a bar to rescue your ass!”

I instantly regretted my words. I looked to the ground for a bit then looked at Vic. This much I at least owed the man. “Vic, you’re my friend,” I said, “I followed you to the edge of the earth and I’m prepared to go further. But let me be clear: you have one more day.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 27

Around 5pm we packed our shit and exited the hotel room and I threw the room key onto the receptionist’s desk and apologized. “Sorry for destroying the room,” I said. “You should really clean up this shit hole.”

“Get the fuck out,” he ordered.

This was the last man we spoke to for several days. We left the one horse town and trekked back up the mountain slope and towards the pass as the sun fell below the horizon. We passed the Bacardi bottle between us before realizing it wouldn’t last till midnight and we finished drinking it anyway. An hour later we came across the creek where we last encountered Penelope and filled our canteens. Vic wondered along the shoreside looking for her footprints and when he found where he was attacked, he followed her path over a ridge away from the pass. “This way!” he declared. So we went over the ridge and deeper into the mountains before finding a comfortable spot to camp. When we found one, Dale pissed around the perimeter while Vic made a fire.

“Dale, what the fuck are you doing?” I ask.

“Supposedly snakes and scorpions won’t cross over human piss,” he explained.

We all took turns standing watch throughout the night but the mountains were eerily silent. The next morning we packed up and penetrated deeper into the rocky terrain. Our elevation was steadily climbing and the air was harder to breathe. We gnawed on jerky throughout the day which caused massive dehydration yet Vic was pushing forward at breakneck speed.

“We ate all the goddamn jerky!” Dale yelled and threw down the non-biodegradable bag on the ground.

Vic noticed a ridge line of trees and ran ahead of us. We heard a gunshot echo from the that direction and minutes later we saw him peer out of the woods with a coyote carcass. “Here’s some sustenance,” he said and dropped the body.

That night we feasted on coyote meat and in the morning we continued the march. The dry dirt and sun baked rocks eventually gave way to pine needles and evergreens and the air grew crisp and clean. We didn’t know how deep into the mountains we were and only Vic provided any sense of direction. Though I had assumed Old Jim would have tired by then but he seemed reinvigorated. I on the other hand became weary of the purpose of our pursuit. When we came to a bluff overlooking yet another deep valley, I had had enough.

“Are you sure we’re on the right path?” I asked Vic.

“Goddamn you! Of course I’m sure!” he spat back.

Perhaps we should have followed the doctor’s advice and taken Vic to a real hospital. His quest for vengeance was overpowering any good sense left in his mangled brain. We had escaped certain death only days earlier but like a desperate gambler we kept going all in. But finally the gamble paid off. As the alpine winds swept through the valley and threatened to chill us, Vic noticed a yellowish speckle on the ground. He knelt down to rub his finger across it then placed his finger to his lips and licked it.

“It’s her alright,” he said.

The sky darkened and the winds picked up and we sought shelter in the nearby woods. While the rest of the group set up camp, I ventured a little deeper into the wood on a whim. About 50 feet away from camp, sitting alone on a small meadow on top of dead pine was a brown open crowned cowboy hat similar to that of the late Karl’s. To my chagrin I realized that Vic was right: we were on the right path.

I picked up the hat and carried back to camp where the others were roasting the meats of rabbit and vermin captured earlier in the day. I squated down and tossed the hat in the middle for all to see. “Damnit Vic,” I uttered, “you’re right. I don’t know how but you’re right.”

Vic chewed off a hunk of rabbit meat impaled on a stick and spat out the fat. “Aye mate,” he said. “I told ya before that I’ve seen the devil. She’s the foulest and most evil thing in these hills. The devil can run but she can’t hide because I know her face. I know her name. I know what she thinks. And I know where she sleeps. It makes you wonder why she’s called the devil. Maybe I’m the terror that stalks these mountains.”

As nightfall came and the fire died, I covered myself in the stolen nylon blanket and held my Uzi tight. I could barely sleep a wink as I kept one eye on Vic. Five days we had been looking. I chose to give it one more day. It was a morning of blistering cold and I awoke from a flash of sleep to see Vic standing over me.

“Good morning,” he greeted.

“Good morning?” I said.

“I have something I want to show you.”

While the others slept and a glimpse of morning skies hovered above, we marched a mile or two into a crowded wooded valley. By yet another creek bed, Vic kicked away a few stones and pointed to a pile of brown excrement. “Do you know what that is?” he asks.

“It’s a pile of shit,” I said.

“Aye. It hasn’t hardened.”

“So?”

“So, it means we’re close.”

“You think it’s Penelope’s shit?”

“No. In these parts, no other creatures could shit a log that big.”

Indeed, I agreed. The turd was at least a foot long and many inches thick. Vic stood watch while I retrieved the others and packed up camp. We caught up with him and ventured deeper into the mountains and as dusk approached we noticed a small plume of smoke rising from a camp fire above the tree line. Then we climbed higher to get a better look.

“We need to keep moving along the ridge to avoid these guys,” said Vic.

I disagreed. “We’re dangerously low on supplies,” I said. “We need to see if we can trade with these folks.”

“No!” he shouted.

“Vic, I don’t want to die out here!”

“My taint itches and I haven’t slept well in three days!” Dale said. “I need more booze.”

Vic balked and the group threatened to break up. Old Jim became the deciding factor so I asked him plainly, “do you want to approach the campfire?”

With the air of a wise old sage, Jim gazed towards the sky. “What campfire?” he asked.

“How are your eyes?” I ask him.

Jim again pulled out the Browning and twirled it around his finger. “Boys, I can still shoot the pecker off…”

“Alright!” Vic relented. “We’ll go towards the campfire! But be on high alert!”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 26

As I laid in the piss reeked bed next to Vic, I watched a cockroach crawl up the wall and towards the mildewed ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. So I drew down the shades as the morning glow peered through the window then I picked up the sticky remote to turn on the old Zenith television set. I sat in a large musty recliner as I perused the porno channels and considered rubbing one out before Jim and Dale returned with supplies. I nearly pulled my dick out when Vic suddenly awoke and grabbed his Colt from the nightstand. He leapt up from the bed and fired one round into the ceiling.

“Aye mate!” he exclaimed. “What is this cursed place?!”

“Chill out Vic!” I said. “We got you stitched up and now we’re just hangin in a seedy hotel room. Jesus fucking Christ! Watch it with that gun!”

Vic looked around the room slightly befuddled. Out of his slumber, he looked deranged with his swollen face covered in gauze and blood crusted scratches. His one good left eye scanned the room and then looked at me. “Penelope,” he said. “We must find her.”

“Yeah you said that already. Are you sure you’re in any condition to go hunting around in the desert?”

He lifted his Colt Python in front of his face and gazed upon it. Penelope must have knocked something loose in his brain. Something wasn’t right and it was probably due to an untreated concussion and lack of good medical attention. “All I see is red, mate,” he said.

“Yeah, your face is covered in blood. You should probably shower.”

“Nae,” he continued. “I will have my vengeance. Gone from my heart is benevolence. I come not to bring love but to bring a sword and Penelope will surely curse the day we crossed. An eye for an eye, thus sayeth the Lord. Only when her eye is taken will me sight be restored and she will know the hate that burns brighter than all the stars in the night sky which harbors in my heart.”

“Vic, I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” I said. “Your sight ain’t getting restored. You’ll be half blind for the rest of your life.”

He fired another round into the ceiling. “Don’t misunderstand me mate,” he said. “I will have my blood.”

Jim and Dale bust through the door with weapons drawn. The flimsy piece of wood that counted as a door came completely off its hinges. “Christ! What was that?!” screamed Dale.

“Relax,” I assured them. “Vic’s just having a manic episode.”

“Okay good,” Dale said and re-holstered his weapon. He crossed the threshold into the hotel room and laid all the goods he carried in on the bed which consisted of several rounds of ammunition, beef jerky, and a bottle of Bacardi. He twisted open the rum bottle and poured a glass.

“How much did this cost?” I ask.

“Cost?” said Dale. “We didn’t pay for this shit. We shoplifted fair and square.”

“Fair enough,” I said. Then I turned to Vic. “When do you want to head out?”

Vic looked up to the ceiling where two bullet holes stared back at him. “We leave at night,” he said. “That’s when she stalks her prey.”

“You heard that everyone?” I ask the group. “It’s 10 o’clock in the morning. Nightfall is around 6:30. Get showered and get rested and liquored up. We leave at sundown.”

Jim nodded and Dale downed the rum whole.

“Good,” said Dale. “That gives me plenty of time to skim through the porno channels.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 25

I threw Vic over my shoulder and carried his beaten and battered body back to the dirt road. Dale and Jim tried to keep up. I struggled to stay on my feet with Vic whimpering and only adrenaline kept me going. The small piece of civilization on the desert plain was only a couple miles ahead and when we reached it on swollen feet we discovered it was a one horse town. Down its main street, I went from store front to store front in a desperate search for medical attention. There was a small tin building off to the side that read the name “Dr. Lyle Lester” and I busted in through the front door.

“Help! My friend is dying!” I shout.

The lone doctor stood up from behind the reception desk and shrugged. “But I’m just a simple chiropractor,” he said.

“Goddamnit! You’re a doctor! Do something!”

“But I don’t have the medical training to help a wounded man!”

I laid Vic down on the stained corduroy couch and pulled out my Uzi. “You can do something and you WILL do something!” I said.

The doctor complied.

Dale and Jim caught up to me and we carried Vic into an operating room and laid him on the table. “All I have is this gauze to stop the bleeding,” the doctor said.

“Good enough,” I said. “What about some painkillers?”

The doctor stated to stammer. “Uh, all I got is some methadone,” he said.

“Do chiropractors usually carry methadone?” asked Dale.

The doctor said nothing.

Vic was pumped full of the medicine and his head was stitched up with the bleeding stopped. Within minutes he appeared to be in a daze. The doctor cleaned up his hands and gave us advice. “You need to take him to a hospital,” he said, “like, right now.”

I nodded and started to lift Vic’s body. But he grabbed me by the arm and pulled me close. “Don’t take me to the hospital,” he ordered.

“Vic, it’s alright…”

“No,” he interrupted, “I’m going after Penelope. Tonight!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I said. “We got out of there alive! No need to test fate!”

Then he pulled me closer. “If you take me to the hospital, I will KILL YOU!” he uttered. He gurgled a few more unintelligible words then passed out.

“Get him the fuck out of my office,” the doctor ordered.

“But doc,” I pleaded, “we’ve got nowhere to go…”

“Shut up and get out.”

Dale and I carried a limp Vic to a nearby no-tell motel and the receptionist looked at us sideways. “We don’t get too many of your kind,” he said.

“Just give us a goddamn room,” I said.

“Alright, that’ll be $39.99 an hour.”

“What?! I can find rent cheaper than that in Los Angeles!” I argued.

Dale took me aside and calmed me. “Relax,” he said, “let me handle this.” From under his trench coat, he pulled out the AK-47 and pointed it at the receptionist. “Will it be 39 bucks or 39 bullets bucko?” he asked.

The receptionist soiled himself and handed us a key. “Check out is at 11am,” he said.

I grabbed the key then picked up Vic by his feet while Dale took his arms and we dragged his body to the suite door. I unlocked it and inside reeked of bleach like old and crusted semen. “I feel right at home,” Dale said as he plopped down on the bed. I laid Vic next to him.

“I’ll stay here with Vic,” I said. “I know I’ve asked a lot of you Dale, but I need you to do one more thing. Find a way to get back to Los Angeles and take Old Jim with you. See if he has any family and…”

“I ain’t goin nowheres,” Old Jim declared.

“Jim, be reasonable…,” I said.

“If you’re gonna go huntin for Penelope, I’m goin with ya.”

“But it’s too dangerous…”

“I can handle my own out there. I know what I’m doin. I may be old but I can still shoot the pecker off a bull…”

“Alright, alright…,” I interrupted. “But we’re gonna need some supplies before we head back out there. Dale, what are you gonna do?”

Dale laid on the bed with arms folded behind his head. He contemplated for a moment before lifting his leg to release a massive ass fart. “Well, I reckon I don’t have much else to do since my wife left me and I got laid off at the toilet factory. I suppose I’ll go back out there with y’all.”

I shook my head and rubbed my face. “I guess that settles it then,” I said.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Anaideia 24

I was the first to rush out of the van and I sprinted 80 or so yards past the dirt road and took position. Next up was Dale and he posted up slightly behind me to the right on the other side of the road. Vic soon followed and escorted Jim as quickly as possible to the far right flank.

“I’ll take point,” offered Old Jim.

“Don’t be stupid! I’m an experienced hunter! I’ll take point!” said Vic.

“I’m an old man,” said Jim. “I know Penelope better than anyone.”

With little time to argue, Vic reluctantly agreed and took his position on the far right. Jim proceeded to the front in the middle of the dirt road and we pushed forward. In actuality, we were all on point. Our diamond or rugged ‘S’ shaped formation was designed specifically so that if one of us was jeopardized then each position would have an open shot without having to adjust. This was our “net” to catch and kill Penelope.

At least that was the theory.

As we slowly pushed through the darkness and towards the pass, Dale shouted from the rear. “Hey Jim! How big of a bitch is Penelope?!” he asked.

Jim casually strolled forward and nonchalantly answered. “Oh, about seven to nine feet,” he said.

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Dale responded. “I once banged a seven foot whore in Tajikistan. She had a big ol pair…”

“Keep your voice down Dale!” I ordered.

Vic shouted from the right flank “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “She knows we’re out here. She’s probably watching our every move.”

Despite this reasoning, we pushed forward silently. A few miles down the road we reached the pass. This was the pinch point. Our formation had little choice but to grow in tighter as the walls of a former river nearly engulfed us. It was as dark as dark could be. Not having laid eyes on the pass in daylight, I called out to Vic. “How high are the walls?” I shout.

“About 30 to 40 feet,” he said.

“Jim, how are your eyes?” I say.

“Good enough to see a gnats pecker,” he said.

“Keep your eyes open to the front,” I order. “Dale, you cover the rear. Vic and I will watch the top of the walls.”

In total darkness, all we could look out for was silhouettes against a night sky. As we penetrated deeper into the pass, it appeared our strategy was working. Despite the immense distance between the former Candyland tavern and the other side of the pass, the hours merely felt like minutes in a way that only the fear of death could provide. Sunup was nearing. The night skies were blueing and the opening of the pass was in sight.

“We made it!” Dale cheerfully declared.

This was the first time I had been on this side of the mountain range in over two months. The dirt road leading into the pass reappeared and gently sloped down into a small town in the faraway distance. We collectively breathed a sigh of relief as the morning sun illuminated the desert horizon.

“Unbelievable!” Vic shouted.

“I’ll be goddamned,” chimed in Dale. “Maybe there’s a god after all.”

Old Jim continued to lead the way forward to a small creek flowing down the slope. With the end in sight, the mood of the group shifted and we laid down our weapons. Vic knelt beside the creek to refill his canteen. When he topped it off, he stood up and did a panoramic view of his surroundings. “We should keep moving,” he said as he took a swig.

“I agree,” Dale said as he pissed a heavy stream into the creek.

“Don’t piss for too long,” Old Jim spoke. “Penelope might grab your pecker.”

“Nonsense,” said Vic. “Penelope is very territorial. She keeps a limited range. We almost certainly escaped her clutches. Besides she’s mostly nocturnal.” He then lifted his cattleman to wipe sweat from his brow. But without warning, a cool wind swept across the creek and a grayish blur latched itself onto Vic. The large creature pulled him to the ground and the two tussled with Penelope quickly gaining the upper hand. Painful grunting and piercing screeches filled the air as the rest of us scrambled to react. I emptied an entire Uzi clip into the ground as I struggled to gain aim and Dale pissed on himself then fell into the water. Only Jim maintained composure as he fired the Browning skillfully into Penelope’s hardened skin. But Vic seemingly fought futility as he was dwarfed by the enormous creature. Finally, blinded by a bloodied face, Vic resorted to his only proven method of defense against Penelope as he reached for his Bowie knife and plowed it into her neck and causing copious amount of yellowish blood to splatter on the ground. She loudly screeched before Dale climbed out of the water and fired his AK-47 indiscriminately into her direction. Penelope scampered away towards a nearby ridge as bullets flew.

“Welcome to earth WHORE!” Dale shouted thinking he saved the day.

But Vic was writhing on the ground and with Penelope well out of sight, I rush to his side. “Vic! Vic! Are you okay?” I screamed. I finally gained control of him and while he screamed in agony I noticed his right eyeball was pulled cleanly from its socket.

TO BE CONTINUED…