HSSC2-That Old Trail, page 1

I whipped this up in a few minutes. I think its pretty good, coudl've been better but not crappy.

It was a brisk fall day as I began to walk home. I attended college at Burkes University in Pennsylvania. Usually I would walk home, by taking the main road but I decided to head down an old path. As my foot touched the dusty trail, I heard someone yell out behind me.

�Yo, man! You betta not go down that way bro. Some spooky crap goes on down there.� I turned behind me and saw the speaker. It was one of those white kids who listened to Eminem and tried to act like he was tough.

�Man, it�s just a path. Get off the pot and maybe your mind won�t be so messed up.� I retorted.

�Hey man, I don�t want ya momma cryin� at my door when you�re gone.� He turned his head and went back.

I didn�t believe in those ghost stories, all a bunch of crap and nonsense. I turned down the path, humming �Hotel California� as I walked along. I had been walking for five minutes now, and it seemed like the sun was setting. It couldn�t be night already. I shuddered as some thoughts entered my mind and I kept going.

Dammit, dammit. How the hell could he have been right? There are no ghosts or demons here but I don�t even know where I am now. The area was totally different and it didn�t feel right.

THUMP...THUMP�THUMP�THUMP�

What was that? Nothing, no maybe a raccoon. Something was following me, I heard heavy footsteps get closer. I turned and shouted.

�WHO THE HELL ARE YOU! GET AWAY FROM ME!�

After my brash exchange of words, I realized it was just a cop. He was heavy set and balding, but his uniform did not look like one I recognized. And I should�ve seen him before, my uncle was Chief of Police back in town.

�Hey sonny, whatcha doing this time of night here. And where�d you get them silly clothes.� He said smirking.

My God�. I think I am in the past. No it can�t be�

�Officer, what day is it?� I quickly asked him.

�Why boy, it�s only November 14th 1967. Why you be askin�?� he said, his tone began to become worried.

I drew this in quite badly. This must be some bad dream or something, a hallucination? No, he�s just fooling around, it�d be impossible if this was a time travel scenario.

�Hey, would you mind walking me home officer?� I asked, hoping he�d say yes.

�Sure boyo, lets go. By the way me name is Jack Hallington.� He said with a warm smile on his fat face.

We went deeper in the woods on that old trail, and now darkness had surrounded us. We walked in silence until a shrill of sinister words crept through the air.

Permissum copiae copie of malum adeo nos. Permissum copiae copie of malum adeo nos.

We stopped dead in our tracks as the words floated around us.

Permissum copiae copie of malum adeo nos.

We heard rustling in the bushes and we crept towards what seemed to be a light. We saw several looming figures, dancing around a bonfire.

Permissum copiae copie of malum adeo nos.

They were scantily clad, with necklaces of tiny bones dangling from their necks and a myriad of demonic looking tattoos covering their bodies. They continued dancing in like a trance until one, an older being shouted something that I couldn�t make out.

They all began to chant as a young woman and a pig were brought out. The old man drew an ornate dagger and slit the throat of the pig. It squealed in pain and it kicked the old man in hatred as its blood seeped from the line on its throat. The blood was collected in a wooden bowl, and the man took it spoke again in the odd language and drank it.

I knew this had to be the work of witches or Satanists. Hallington put his hand on his pistol and with eyes of burning fire planned on shooting the priest or leader. I motioned to him to take it easy.

We watched in horror as the woman was stripped and tied to a long poll. The priest took the dagger, put the shiny metal blade in the fire and walked towards the girl. His eyes blank with thoughts of macabre nation filled his brain and soul. He let the blade sizzle on her left breast, when thunder clapped.

I screamed out of horror, and confusion. The thunder was Hallington�s pistol. The bullet hit the priest in the head, and he collapsed dead. The others went into a frenzy of shouts and chaos. One of them picked up the dagger and they ran towards us. I ran, and I yelled to Jack to follow. His large frame stood there behind me and he was swarmed by these fanatical people. I heard more gun shots, he managed to crawl through dead bodies and some of the weaker ones. He nearly caught up with me when, the man who had taken the knife, threw it at him striking him in the back. Jack collapsed, I was helpless there was nothing I could�ve done.

The man took what looked like a hand ax and began to hack Jack�s arm off. He yelped in pain as he tried to reach for his gun. I darted towards him and picked it up and fired several shots into the crazed person. Jack�s arm was severed and he was bleeding profusely.

�Kkkkiilll me.� He stuttered on the words as the pain increased. I lifted the gun, aimed and fired. By now the other cultists realized what was going on and sprinted towards me. I ran not caring where I was going. I burst through the dense wood and fell onto a hard surface. A highway. Ahead of me I saw the flashing lights of a truck�

The trucker whose name was Tim let me sleep in his truck. I had him drive me to the library to check out what the hell had happened. I researched Hallington�s name and what I read made my blood run cold. Hallington was a cop, nearly 60 years ago who while investigating strange disappearances and murders, was found dead missing an arm.

�NO!� I shouted in the library. �IT CAN�T BE, NO DAMN NO!�

I ran back out to Tim and had him drive me to that old trail. We both went into the woods and walked to where I recalled where I was only a few hours before.

Nothing. Ii walked in circles in disbelief, nothing at all. I began to walk back when I herd something.

CRACK.

Tim had stepped on something, the dry brittle bones of a human arm. Nearby, a bullet casing.

I was stunned, no no it can�t be. No, dammit no!

Tim was staring down at the bone with a smirk on his face. His rose slowly rose and meet mine.

�Permissum copiae copie of malum adeo nos.�

The words echoed�

Permissum copiae copie of malum adeo nos. More came from the woods, different voices�

Permissum copiae copie of malum adeo nos.

End.

[edit on 10-30-2004 by JediMaster]