“The legends were real.”
“This has marked the fourth disappearance in the town of Hollowview in the past two months, as police advise parents to keep their children with them at all times, and arranging a curfew at 8:00 pm,” the radio blared out later that night from the speakers, as I wasn’t paying too close attention. Switching it off, I continued to eat cereal for supper — my favourite meal — as I shovelled another spoonful of Cheerios into my mouth. Our city was awful. The city of Hollowview, a small and dark city in the corner of British Columbia, where nothing ever happened. Rarely happened, until recently, when the night stowed upon us. I for one wasn’t freaked out, for the kids that had gone missing recently were all little kids, I had grown from that years ago. Who would take a sixteen year old? The answer to that was no one.
The house, dark like usual, I kept the lights off for now except the tiny light bulb switched on above the stove in the kitchen, for the soul purpose of my laziness. Sitting at the wooden kitchen table propped on one of the stools, as the window to my left kept dimming as the night went on. I wasn’t too scared of the dark, or even being home alone at night, for I was used to it by now. My father working late nights, filing paper work at some job I had no clue of, for I didn’t pay too close attention to his work, and he never introduced me to it. We rarely spoke anyways, for I was usually stuck in my room or out with my friends when he was home, only the quiet ‘hello’ when we would see each other. He was too focused into work for me, although now that I was older I didn’t care as much, let him do what he wanted.
The slight growling of my dog — who lied on the floor beside my chair — echoed in the room as I nudged him a bit with my leg.
“Oscar, stop it. There is no one here,” I snapped at him, for his little furry head came wandering up to me as he peered, then back in the direction of the door. By the window, in the direction to our empty and open backyard. We didn’t have a fence back there at all to circulate the house, as an open and empty field was attached to our property. My father had been meaning to build one that summer, however like usual he didn’t have the time. No surprise there. And now since the season had drifted into the fall with the chillier wind erupting and the blowing leaves, he decided it would be a job for the next year. I wasn’t too worried though. Oscar was a good dog, for he knew not to venture in that field too far, to stay in the vision of the house. He had been trained well.
Scooping up another spoonful of my cereal, I turned the small radio located beside me back on, the switch tuning on breaking the creaking silence roaming around the house. For sure I believed the news channel would have taken a break, the music blasting of Nirvana which was my favourite band in the year of 1991. However to my devastating hope, the channel playing breaking news was still looping on, the story covered the exact same story everyone in this miserable town had been speaking of:
Two months earlier a group of kids went to play in the field behind the house, and they had not been seen since. Disappearing, almost into thin air. Searches extenuating, however no one would dare enter that very eerie and haunting field. For there was this layer of mist that sat overtop of the whole scenery, covering the grounds as no one could see where the field ended. No sign at all. Legends had been consuming that field for years. Years, longer than I had been alive. Legends and stories of these types of creatures that lurked within the mist. Creatures with teeth as sharp as knives, claws that could cut steel. However, that was all anyone could say, for the ones who saw the whole beast didn’t make it out alive. Or that’s what people said. The howls late at night coming from the field, the creatures inside thirsty for someone to pass on by, especially children, for that was their favourite meal.
“I bet those creatures got that group of kids who went into the field,” my friend Austin had spoken earlier the next day after the vanishing, the topic spreading around town as it seemed even the police were too afraid of that field. I didn’t understand.
“Yeah right. You’re just full of it. You’re nuts if you actually believe that stuff,” I laughed at him, my two other friends peering at me as if I was the crazy one. They were just as spooked as everyone else in town.
“You mean, you don’t believe in that spooky mist in the field?”
“Yeah Scott. You live right by it. Don’t you hear the creepy sounds at night?”
“I don’t know what sounds you are talking about, but I hear nothing. There are no such things as ‘monsters’, you morons. It was probably some sick freak who took those kids. They’re probably just dead somewhere and will be found soon.” I pushed their legends away as if they were trying to convince me it was all real, for my friends were real pushovers when it came to those types of things.
“Yeah, their lifeless bodies will be found somewhere near the field I’ll bet you. Just you wait and see,” Austin spoke once again, as I only rolled my eyes.
“Yeah right. I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Not bothered to listen to the staticky radio, I rinsed my bowl out, placing it in the dishwasher as I headed back to my room for the second time that night. Still no lights remaining in the house, I flicked my lamp on the minute I stepped about. The quietness still sleeping around the house, only the slight noise of the furnace switching on and off. Oscar’s little dachshund paws clinking on the hardwood floors, trotting alongside me on the way up the stairs. 10:46 pm the clock read ticking away, my mind foggy from the last hours that seemed to of flashed by in an instant. I didn’t think it had been that long since I returned home from school, however it seemed I was drastically mistaken. No. School. Homework. A sudden thought plopped into my head. A sudden sheet of panic drenching me, a strike of coldness stripping. I had forgotten all about my math homework that had been scheduled for hand-in the next day, my mind having wandered off the idea of work the second I walked out of the horrid building. But the thought of accomplishing trigonometry at this hour sent waves of dread and exhaustion through every inch of my body. I was in no mood to complete it. I do have a spare tomorrow before lunch, I’ll just work on it then, I had thought, knowing my math class wasn’t until the end of the day. This new plan would work out just fine I had concluded.
Yawns coming my way as I knew my usual sleep schedule, for around eleven o’clock at night was the normal time for me to hit the hay. Knowing my dad wouldn’t be much longer, I stuffed my homework back into my bag, picking up some of my clothes from the ground and placing them on my usual chair that had become a hoarding surface, replacing the heap of clothes that usual sat on my floor. No, I had upgraded from chucking my clothes on the floor to my chair, something my father still gave me crap for as he would holler at me to hang up my clothes. But what was the point if I was just going to wear those clothes tomorrow? The answer to that was there was no point. You see, I had a system all planned out.
Tossing more of my clothes on the spinning chair in the corner of my room, as Oscar bounced off my bed in a bolt, as if following something I hadn’t seen.
“Oscar? Where you going buddy?” I asked, as if he would call back to me.
“Oh, I’m just going downstairs buddy! Need some of that great tasting, bland dog food! Only the best!” Yeah, as if. I laughed a bit in my head over my imagination.
Following him along, I tagged by him as we headed down the stairs, the usual routine for him beginning to carry out as well, for I let him outside every night before I went to bed.
My mom had gotten me Oscar on my ninth birthday, almost two days before she left the house for ‘work’, and didn’t come back. I hadn’t seen her in seven years, as my dad and I knew she took off from us. For awhile there, for most of my life she had a real heavy drinking problem, never knowing if she would be sober or not when I would return home from school. Not bringing friends over at all when I was a child, for I didn’t want to be pulled into that embarrassment of my mother passed out on the couch, or just acting stupid or wasted when my friends would come to hang out. In the end she promised she would work hard to overcome her problem, giving Oscar to me as some sort of promise, and the next day she was gone. I hadn’t seen her since. That hurt, I had to admit that, although I never let anyone know it. She was my mother after all, and I loved her. I wanted her to become better. I really wanted her to put the effort in, for me, her child. Wasn’t I worth it? Was alcohol more important than me? Her own son? I didn’t need that question answered, for I already knew what her answer would be.
I tried shrugging it off between my friends and Dad and I, for I never told anyone how I really felt. I don’t know why I did that, it was just who I was. Something I was bad for; keeping things to myself. That could be a good thing, although, also a bad.
Unlocking the dead bolt on the back door, the cool autumn breeze interrupting the warmth in the house as Oscar ran outside in an instant. Shutting the door just enough for me to still hear when he barked to come in, I stepped over towards the fridge to my right, grabbing a glass as I filled it up with ice cold water from the fridge. I always needed that before bed, a glass to keep by my nightstand, for I was too lazy in the middle of the night to go run over to the kitchen to grab some water. And if I did do that, I didn’t want to chance being woken up further with the bright lights, and then not being able to fall back asleep after. No, that was too risky. I needed my sleep.
Growling soon echoed in my ears, as I shot a look over towards the door. To my shock, the door was now wide open. More wind blowing in as leaves joined in, a nervous energy beginning to bubble inside me. Was it really that windy out to knock the door open? The growling intensified, as I stepped closer to hear my dog angered and barking, something he did when he saw someone he didn’t know.
“Oscar? What is it?” I called out before I even stepped outside, my sweatpants becoming chilled more as the thin fabric did nothing to protect me from the cold. My even thinner sweatshirt having no warmth either, wrapping my arms around myself as I took steady steps towards the open back door. Slowly peaking my head out, searching for my dog, I was confused to see he was nowhere in sight. The growling having completely died down, not a single person was out there. My dog was long gone. “Oscar? C-come here, b-boy,” I began to stutter my words in shivers, however they weren’t just shivers of coldness, they had become shivers of fright. My nerves jumping up more inside me, a strike of pure fear beginning to jog, slowly turning into a run through my veins. What was going on?
A sudden shriek, a howl radiated far in the distance, as if in full command as I jumped higher than before. “Oscar? Is that you?” You idiot. He’s a dog, he isn’t going to answer you. I spoke in my head, the voice sounding just as scared as I felt at the moment. The field was right ahead of me, the mist gleaming in the moonlight above, however I still couldn’t see a thing. As if a white film covered the whole thing, a type of gooey film that dripped and oozed almost. Shocking waves transferring to me. What if he went in there? What if he ran in the field, in the fog? I can’t just leave him in there, right? I swallowed hard, fear running far inside me as I began to walk across our own backyard, my determination to find my dog beginning to shrink as I approached the field even more. What am I doing? He’s a goner. Just go back inside and print some missing dog posters in the morning. What if all those legends are true? What if there really are monsters in that field?
Oh stop. You are being ridiculous. There is nothing in that field, stop being such a baby. You will be fine. You will walk in there, find Oscar sniffing some grass, and you’ll both walk out of there alive. Those tales are not true, they were only made up to scare kids into not running off. It’s fine, there is nothing in there.
But what if there is?
Taking cautious steps, I wanted to turn back, as the wimpy side of my brain kept telling me to run away. However my tough side kept telling the wimpy side to shut up, to stop being a baby and suck it up, and so I only listened to the one side. Although I was starting to believe that was the wrong side I should have took orders from.
My feet beginning to step in muck, for the climate change between the field and our backyard seemed like night and day. The solid ground in our backyard with the hard grass, and soon the swamp like substance for the ground in the field. Walking into the mist finally, my eyes felt instantly as if knives were stabbing through, a type of radiation burning my skin almost as the pain beamed onto my face. I wanted to turn back, but now I found out I couldn’t. I physically couldn’t turn back, as if a sudden wave of shock fueled inside me, walking in a trance while the biting mist ran across my skin even more. My eyes wide open, I couldn’t blink, I couldn’t turn back, I couldn’t move any other part of my body except my feet. Turn back! Go on! Stop walking forward and go back! Book it out of here! Go! NOW! But I couldn’t, I didn’t feel like myself anymore. I felt as if someone took control of my body, like a puppet on strings. I was no longer me.
Absolute and utter terror bursted through my veins at every step I took further into the mist, as if walking through a barricade with thick doors of knives stabbing through you for walls. I couldn’t see a thing, only recognize the swampy marsh land I was sinking myself into, as the sheet of grey fog froze in front of me. The fear that I couldn’t control myself dug in deeper within, the nervous limp growing in the back of my throat but I couldn’t swallow it, I couldn’t do a thing besides walk.
The ground soaking in muck, a rusted smell swirling into my nostrils, as suddenly I realized it wasn’t just muck and mud I was stepping in, I was walking amongst blood. Mushed and molched body parts squishing under my feet, my eye sight still directed forward however from the corner of my eyes I could make out more than just the swamp land. There were gooey limbs surfacing the grounds within the mist, the flesh sawed in half as if ripped off the bodies. Bones splintering and sticking out of their fleshy homes, small arms and legs scattered in that blood thirsty field. Someone had done this. Something had done this. Something not human, for who could ever have that much strength to rip limbs from bodies? I went cold immediately from the thought, shivers running up my spine as my horror was jolted with every step I took over a mulched up part. I wanted to throw up, feeling the bile inching up my throat, but I could not, for my body was no longer mine. I was being controlled, as I still wandered through the field, not having a choice to turn back which I so desperately wanted to.
The fog still steadily running under my feet, as if making the bodies under my feet weave in and out of sight, vanishing and then reappearing. I was horrified with ever new set I saw, my eyes feeling as if stabbed with the imaginary knives that ran through the air. The radiation I could feel inside me, filling my lungs with it’s poison with every breath I took. Trying to hold my breath, however with every inch of fear that struck me inside I was forced to suck in another deadly gasp of air, I couldn’t stop myself. My breathing as if the only thing I could control, watching dead ahead as I was being led to an uncertain death, although I knew the end would be death. I only knew that.
A single hand appeared out from the dreery mist, a tiny hand that belonged to a child, no more than seven-years-old I could only guess. My stomach turning, watching the brittle hand crush under my feet as I couldn’t stop myself from moving, as if some deadly spirit was leading me, possessing me to go further. That thought sending more waves of terror towards me, as if consumed in the air. I knew what happened to those four missing kids now.
“Scott…..” a sudden whisper emerged from the fog, a whisper that sent chills directly towards me as I couldn’t look in any other direction.
“Scott…..follow us…”
“Come play with us……”
“Stay…..”
“Find us…..” the whispers continued as the voices were small and quiet, voices of children. I couldn’t see a person though, as the voices came from the fog. The mist that was all sprawled out in front of me. Where were those coming from? Who were they? The sudden thought of those kids that had disappeared months ago filled my head, and my temperature all around me fell cold. Run! Get out of here! Go back! But I couldn’t, I still was forced to walk forward, my eyes still blazing open as the feeling of blades jabbing me slithered throughout.
Suddenly, one thing after the other, a hissing sound echoed somewhere near me, a hiss that wasn’t normal. A hiss that I could feel, the breathe brushing against my skin. The warm substance spreading across me, there was something near.
“It’s coming……”
“It’s coming for you Scott……” the voices chanted in a way, small giggles escaping through the air, the children around laughing their heads off, if they were actual children at all anymore. More like spirits, ghosts haunting the field, where other things lurked as well.
“SSSS……SSSSS……..SSSSS……” a new voice echoed to my left, I new type of fear bulging inside me as I could feel hot tears coming to my eyes. What was in this field?! What was happening?! What was going on?! I wanted to scream, I wanted to look to my side to peer at what it was. However all I could still do was walk forward, deeper within as I was possessed by something, some creature I could feel beginning to slither inside me. I wasn’t myself any longer. My heart stopping in my chest with the fear, as if it was paralyzing my heart. Taking hold of it, crushing it, stopping the beating inside. And there was nothing I could do.
“Come join us Scott……..”
The hissing only got louder, as suddenly a pair of scaly and blood dripping claws appeared behind me, grabbing at my shirt harshly as I tried to run, to scream, to get away, but I still couldn’t do a thing.
“Stay with us Scott….”
“Stay…..with…..us.”
And with the last echoing childish voice emerging through my ears, the claws full of fear took a hold of my possessed body, and everything around me went black.
“Be one of us Scott….”
“This is your home now.”
The legends were real.
