Here is a sneak peek at my upcoming submission for an anthology scheduled to come out this year. It’s a partnership of a great group of up-and-coming new stars in the horror field. I am honored to participate!
The main theme of the anthology is an antique Ouija Board which finds its way handed down generation by generation and all the mayhem it causes!
My contribution will be the origin story to the evil that taints the land of 1417 Weatherly Lane, Kingston, MN where all the stories will take place.
Here is the beginning of the evil legacy…
Kingston, MN 7/5/1911
Geof Brown wiped the oily dark grease from his forehead as a wide grin bared his yellowing teeth. He removed a small rock hammer from his leather belt and chipped at a section of the tunnel wall in front of him.
As the chips fell, small patches of sparkling metal were revealed. “You’re seeing this, ain’t ya?”
Another man, clad in matching, dark burlap overalls and a yellow hard hat with a small lantern gave him an incredulous look. “By God. You don’t suppose it is…”
“I do indeed! Back in the late nineties, maybe 1896 this whole region was once mined for gold. Hell, I bet Farbrynn Foundation was first a gold mine, not an iron mine like it is today!”
Both quieted down to stare in reverence at the vein of gold weaving a crooked path across the wall.
The pair of miners had been detonating and expanding the dig site all week. They now stood at the end of it and had begun clearing the piles of debris when Geoff called out for the other miner to join him.
“We going to report this?” Memphis asked.
“You think it would go unnoticed?” he chuckled. “Us working away at the middle of this tunnel versus us extending the wing to the east as our orders show. We’d be locked up before dusk in Sheriff Benson’s hold for theft!”
“Wait,” Memphis mumbled and laid his palm flat on the stone then his ear. “Did you hear something?”
Before Geoff could reply, he tapped his knuckles along the surface. An empty thud answered his rappings. “I think it’s hollow behind this wall.”
Geoff drew closer and also knocked on the wall making his own hollow thuds. “You’re right. About here, it gets solid again.” He had walked back and forth about eight feet of the tunnel.
“Let’s put one charge there and open it up. Maybe the vein is bigger in there.” Greed flooded his anxious eyes.
Geoff nodded and went back to their tool cart for his chisel and hammer.
“Get only a half of a stick. We don’t want to knock the roof down, just punch a hole here.” He indicated a spot with his fingers. “About here should do.”
Fifteen minutes later, they crouched under a thick cloud of dust and smoke that hovered near the ceiling. The thump and ring from the explosion still rang in their ears. Slowly Geoff and Memphis approached the new entry. After a detonation, one never knew exactly how well the chamber walls would hold. It was best never to rush right in. Besides the normal precautions, they both felt the sudden tension or unease in the air. It was an odd sensation like the electricity you felt before a powerful thunderstorm broke. Stale, musty air wafted out toward them.
“Look at that!” exclaimed Memphis as his lantern highlighted the hollow chamber. It was about thirty feet across and the ceiling arched from seven to a dozen feet high. It appeared to be cut out of the rock by hand. No normal tool marks were visible.
Otherwise, empty, its walls had the normal striations of iron ore. Fortunately, the new thin line of gold continued as they had hoped for along the eastern section.
In the center of the room stood a massive boulder. It was easily a ton in weight and over five feet long. Carved by hand were deep pockets in the rock’s surface. Inside these nooks were six, sun-bleached white skulls. Surrounding the skulls were strings of letters and symbols. On top, a large egg-shaped glass globe sat. It was dark purple, smooth and opaque.
From the ceiling were long lines of colored beads and polished stones. Clay vases with flower remnants and old feathers, crusty and dried, decorated the ground at the base of the boulder.
Forming a square about the boulder were four thin clay monoliths. These too were intricately engraved with symbols.
“Ain’t this sumthin’! God knows it’s Injun! You think this is a burial site?” He pulled one of the monoliths from the ground and held it in his arms to get a closer look at the engravings upon it.
Geoff frowned and snapped, “Best hope not. You know how angry they get when their stuff is messed with.”
Memphis blanched at the statement and fumbled with the piece. It dropped and landed hard on one corner. It shattered upon impact. Immediately a gust of brownish powder blew out and an odd echo of water dripping filled the room. It faded fast.
“What the hell, man! Be careful!” Geoff scolded.
“I’m sorry, it just jumped—” Memphis was cut off as a gale of icy wind swept over them. The cavern darkened unnaturally and a low hum and vibration could be felt through their boots. They both sprinted in terror out of the chamber and ran back to the tool cart.
“We got to get the foreman anyway. Come on!” Geoff grabbed the older miner by the forearm and directed him back down the tunnel where they had arrived. Both men kept glancing back, sure they were being followed. Only the mine’s eternal darkness filled the tunnels behind them.
****
Chauncey Walters stood at the entrance to the chamber as Geoff and Memphis had created an hour ago. His hands were in tight fists buried into his hips. He stared intently at the items within the room but hadn’t stepped foot inside. The rest of the B Wing crew were gathered in a group behind him. No one dared a whisper. Finally coughing into his hand, he turned and focused on the original pair. Geoff took a short drink of water from a canteen while Memphis studied his work boots.
“So, you two thought it wise to blast this wall here, huh? Weaken the tunnel capacity. Jeopardize the entire region here… because of this hollow pocket, am I understanding this situation, right?”
“Well, it was more—” Geoff began.
Chauncey lunged forward and stood in his face. “When did you start getting paid to think down here? Didn’t I write down exactly what your orders were for this week?”
Both miners remained silent.
“Now because you took it upon yourselves to act, I have this mess,” he spun and gestured wildly at the piles of debris and the native artifacts. He rotated back to them. “I am in charge here, Mister Brown! Me! You do get that? I’m the one who has to explain this. Or do you want to go ahead and jump in here too?”
Geoff and Memphis shook their heads no and kept their silence.
“You wasted resources, company time, damaged whatever that injun garbage is, and put the wing at risk! The only way I can justify keeping you two idiots is you stumbled across this possible gold vein. Hopefully we can recoup the costs and maybe even save this quarter for Farbrynn. So, all of you, hear this now and be sure you fully understand what I am saying. Until I say otherwise no one utters a word of this outside this mine. It’ll be in Leadership’s hands on how we go forward with this dig. Am I clear?”
Grunts and nodding heads quickly answered. They turned all together and as one marched away into the darkness.
“Do not think I won’t fire anyone right on the spot for breaking the silence,” he shouted. “Keep this in confidence. This gold may be the windfall Kingston has been hoping for. We just have to plan this out perfectly. Until then we don’t want any mistakes or…” He paused and looked over at the boulder with the native remains. “We can’t have any delays due to conflicts and ‘improper handling of sacred remains’ if you get my intention. Today we will close the mine operations early while I send for direction by Leadership. Not a word fellas! Now go.” He stopped to spit cave dust into one corner.
****
“Hey, man, come have a drink with me at Baron’s,” Joshua Brown called out. He was standing in the open doorway to the only town saloon and waving at a group of other young men who were emerging from the Tanner’s Inn stables. Joshua was shorter than most for his age, but he had powerful arms from his years of work in the mines with his father. His long, brown hair stuck out from under his wool cap. His green eyes were bright with excitement.
Among the men he had waved over was his newest friend, Richie Albright. He was the son of the new pastor. Months before, they had moved into the farm lot on the edge of town and converted their small house into a Methodist Church. Richie’s face was freckled and pale under his wispy blonde hair. He also wore thin wire glasses and was a little taller than most of the other men.
When he and Joshua walked together their differences were quite striking. However, they had bonded fast over their love of automobiles. Neither of them had actually owned one, but Richie had seen an actual first-model Ford T back in Chicago. He also had a growing collection of books on the subject. Most of their afternoons had been dedicated to discussing everything related to cars.
“You seem pretty happy. The mines are down early today?” Richie asked as he and the other men caught up with Joshua at the steps.
“Yep! Got some news, but…” he paused and did a quick look around. The other men went ahead and walked into the Baron Vance Saloon. “We’ll talk inside.”
Inside the small saloon, it was dark and smelled of stale beers. A few lanterns were turned on near the bar, but the overhead lights were not yet lit. In the large room were six drinking tables, three larger game tables along the right, and a bar piano in the back corner. In the opposite corner in the back was a stairwell leading up to the sleeping rooms. A few townsfolk sat at the bar, but the drinking tables were filling up fast with the miners. The room grew loud with laughter and talk of the gold vein.
Before they wound their way to their own table, always near the back and the piano, Richie spun around and exclaimed, “They found gold in the mine?”
Joshua laughed, “Yep! We’re supposed to keep quiet about it, but that’s not happening!”
“Where?” he asked as they sat down.
“My father and old Memphis were expanding the tunnels in the east wing when they found this small line. Oh! And get this, there is an injun burial ground right in the middle of the gold deposit!”
“Really? It has to be the Chippewa,” Richie said. He and his father had studied the history of Minnesota before they had trekked out to make a new start. Both had discovered in the process that they were avid Indian history buffs. However, they did not broadcast this to the local residents.
Joshua scrunched up his face in disgust and confusion. “How would I know? Injuns is injuns is all I know. And they were too dumb to mine out the gold!”
He then turned to wave down a saloon serving girl as she passed and asked for two mugs of ale.
“Wait! Did you say it’s a burial site?”
Joshua took a long gulp from his beer, then said, “Yep! Well, at least, there were several skulls in it.”
Richie pushed his spectacles further up his nose. He was fascinated. The automobile chats had gone a bit dry for him. This was new and exciting. His father would be ecstatic too.
“What did you see at the site?”
“Well… it’s a small chamber about thirty feet or so and just a few feet taller than a man. Inside was this big boulder where they carved out holes to put the heads in. There were feathers hanging from the ceiling and clay pottery stuff all around too. You could see the gold twinkling in the walls! Thad Williams thinks this is going to put Kingston on the map. Going to make us all rich!”
“So why did they stop the mining operations?”
“They have to get some direction on what to do with the gold and what to do with the burial site. Foreman Walters was all up in arms and shouting for everyone to be hush-hush on this. Threatened to fire anyone who talked.” He looked all around him with a big wry grin. “Sure looks like we are all scared of that!”
“My father has some education on Indian Cultures. The Church wanted him to have it so he could help with any crisis negotiations. Anyway, do you think they’ll let him look at it?”
Joshua shrugged. He was paying more attention to the brunette serving girl working the left side of the room.
****
A thick cloud of dust and smoke clung to the ceiling inside the chamber. Light from his lantern barely illuminated the gloom of the chamber. Chauncey moved in closer to the wall and pulled out his small knife. “Let’s see just what we are dealing with, shall we?”
He scraped at the rock and dirty grime that obscured the vein of gold. It flaked into his open palm. Holding it inches from his eyes he could see the twinkling metal. A broad grin crossed his face.
A subtle shift in the gravel sounded behind him. He snapped a glance behind him. No one else remained from the crew. Squinting, he peered into the dark entrance of the chamber. “Hello?”
Nothing.
He shrugged and turned his attention back to the wall.
Chauncey stood still trying to calculate how long he could delay his dispatch to the management at Aaron Farbrynn Mining Foundation. He planned to mine a patch or two that night when the mine was empty. He would skip town in a couple of weeks.
How long before anyone grew suspicious of the delays? Maybe four days at best he decided. With the new telegraph stations, communication was spotty. Then it would take some time for them to plan–
Another sound of shifting sand inside the mine. It was more distinctive this time and it was followed up with falling pebbles.
“Alright. Who’s there? Come out!” he bellowed before spinning around. Someone had defied his orders and stayed behind. Someone was going to be his example and get fired!
Nothing again.
He marched over to the entrance of the hollow chamber and leaned in. “Just come on out and let’s get this over with. You can’t hide in there for long and it will just go worse on you if I am forced to find you. I’m not playing hide-and-seek today!”
“Nish..tiggg…waan”
The words floated out from the gloom of the chamber. Chauncey could not find their source. They were drawn out and said with a deep, rolling rumble.
“Who is that?” he demanded and took several steps inside. Keeping his head low out of the dust and smoke cloud, he crept closer to the center of the room where the boulder sat. If anyone was hiding in there, that would be the most logical spot.
“You not only disobeyed a direct order to leave, but you are messing with this…injun stuff which is going to cause me even more grief. Come out now! Let’s get out of here.”
“Niiii toon,” the words were whispered, the faint wind of them brushed his left ear as an ebony mist descended from the cloud and settled over his head. Immediately an intense pressure swelled Chauncey’s skull.
His hands flew up and his finger nails dug into his temples. A gurgled scream stuck in his throat. He coughed hard and choked on the stale air of the cavern as he spun about his legs kicking madly. The foreman’s body acted reflexively versus any thought or direction from him.
Blood bubbled from his ears and out his nose. Somehow he had gnashed upon his tongue and more blood drooled out from his lips.
“Niiitoooon!” the voice shrieked inside Chauncey’s head. It was still a deep bass sound, but it was filled with an intense emotion of rage.
He was barely aware of the voice as he felt rather than heard the popping and sharp crack at the base of his shoulders. Bones snapped as his neck twisted abruptly to the left then yanked back hard to the right. A building scream of sheer raw agony started then was cut off brutally as his scalp split and peeled away to the sides. Chauncey’s eyes blazed to life with an unholy ivory-white light.
More skin tore away, and tendons snapped free from the shoulders as the foreman’s head ripped from the mooring of his body. The severed spine dangled obscenely from the neck. A thick fountain of gore and scarlet blood showered the boulder as his spasming body dropped hard to the dirt.
The skull continued to hover in the air. A flowing black body of bristling hair wavered behind the skull. The creature now appeared part Chauncey Walters and part writhing specter. It swam through the air and coasted beneath the bank of smoke. It descended and dropped down to the boulder. It hovered before each of the skulls in their respective nooks.
“Aashayaan,” The voice came out between the bloody jaws of Chauncey’s mouth. The tongue hung limply to the side and protruded between the lips.
The specter cascaded down to the prone body. A light gray steam rose from the man’s back and bathed the creature. It shook and trembled in delight as it had been eons since it had fed.
It was hungry for more.
I hope you enjoyed my story so far. We even have plans already for a sequel edition scheduled later in the year. Would love to hear your thoughts on the story… Leave me a comment. Till then, happy reading!
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