MoonShadows

I remember the late spring and early summer days of clear blue skies with their wispy white clouds hanging, seeming still.

The light, warm breezes, carrying the scents of nature and pleasant days. Work and worries forgotten in the afternoon wonders of Nature.

Sitting on the old wood bench my Daddy made all those years ago. Rubbed smooth by all the sitting and talking we did since I was old enough to go along with him out here in the honey bee hollow.

That’s what my Daddy always called it, his honey bee hollow, back between the shed and the rolling fields that stretched as far as the eye could see.

It’s a magic place, where the honey bees live, back in honey bee hollow. Smells of honey and sunlight in the air and bees flying, busily going to and fro, curiously knowing from whence they came and where they go.

My Daddy started his hives back there when he was young and the honey bees swept his heart away. Mama always said she knew even then, the bees were his ‘other girls’ and there was no point in standing in the way.

I sit here now, just like I did back then, on this old wood bench watching the bees, buzzing softly, going about their terribly important business as though nothing else exists in the world but flowers and honeycomb.

I spent countless days working in honey bee hollow with my Daddy. He taught me just about anything a person could know about honeybees by those hives and sitting on that bench back in honey bee hollow.

In his late years, my Daddy couldn’t work the bees like we used to. It still gave him so much pleasure to come out and sit on the old wood bench though and listen to the bees, watching them coming and going.

It was out back in honey bee hollow here that my Daddy sat on the wood bench for the last time. He wanted to stay, he said, just a little bit longer. I told him he can stay as just as long as he wanted and I went on up to the shed to get some tools. When I came back, my Daddy was gone.

I walked up behind him, calling to him quietly, not wanting to startle him awake. Then, I saw the peace on his face and I knew my Daddy would be in honey bee hollow forever and ever.

Now I come to honey bee hollow and sit on this old wood bench and I listen close to the bees and the breeze. Sometimes, I can still hear my Daddy’s voice, telling me just about all there is to know about honey bees.

Once over a hill and past the big tree,
I walked along quite merrily
Seeing the birds and squirrels and bumblebees,
making my own path to where it leads.

I walked and walked for what seemed like miles.
Waving at folks, returning the smiles.
Past fields of corn in hundreds of aisles.
a patchwork of meadows, laid out like tiles.

The clouds were puffy and the sky clear blue
The colors around were vibrant and true.
I went on a journey without a clue
as to where I was was going or what I would do.

I’d stop for a bit just now and then,
lay back on the grass in the deep green glen.
The clouds float above me a million times ten.
light sounds of birds singing now and again.

On a journey to nowhere, the whole world and I,
a feeling of freedom, as though I could fly.
to take in the world, so much to try
A feeling so strong , at times I could cry.

To cry with laughter or shout in delight,
embracing a loved one, to see from great heights.
To stare at the stars in the inky black night,
to see the truths of the world exposed in sunlight.

I go on this journey , take time when I can,
I need no maps, no direction or plan.
I go alone in the world, just one simple man.
I never did stop, Don’t know if I can.

Lying deathly still.

Newly awake, filled with pain and hunger

They lay there. waiting.

They hear the voices above and outside. talking fading in and out. right over them. right outside.

As they lay there, they remember nothing. only hunger fills their mind.

They can smell the others. outside, above them. walking free while they are trapped.

Resentment starts to build, anger at being trapped. hungry. Oh how so very hungry…

As this limited awareness grows, they find strength. strength from anger. Strength from the hunger.

Strength to finally move. Shake free the paralysis that has kept them still so long.

Little movements at first. Building, stretching, reaching, digging…

Pulling themselves up and out slowly, determined, hungry.

Freedom! At last freedom. Dirt falling off of shoulders, being shaken off.

Crouching, standing, walking. coming.

Dead eyes, not seeing yet sensing.

Smelling the others, the ones who are whispering, running , screaming. So hungry.

Searching, seeking, hunting the ones who walked over them, the ones who locked them way in tombs.

Eating, finally eating..trying to fill the hunger that won’t go away.

Eating more, still so very hungry. It hurts to be so hungry.

Walking, searching, eating.

Can’t stop. Won’t stop.

Eating means waking, being more aware, brings more hunger… and hate.

Resentment is stronger. The living did this to them. Trapped them, locked them away.

Kill them. Eat them.

So very hungry.

People always say how they don’t believe in monsters. “No such thing.” is what they say. I used to be one of those people. I really was, until I saw…It.

Now, there have been a lot of books and movies made about these “things” over the years. It’s like the authors are trying to get people to admire the things, pity them even. You see, that’s how they get by though. “They” can influence people’s minds, they way we think. The way we treat them. They want us to accept them as one of us. That’s how they get us.

They messed up though. I saw one of them, saw it for what it was. I even talked to it. It wanted to affect my thinking , what I say, about “them”. You want to know what kind of thing I am talking about? Do you really? Vampires. There’s the word. That’s right.

It was about two months ago. I was sitting in the downtown park, oh about, 9 pm or so. Something like that. It’s a pretty park. Very well lit, almost too well it if you asked me back then. Me, I have always been drawn to the dark areas, I like to hide in the shadows. Just out of the light so I can’t be seen and interrupted all the time. I liked to be hidden. Never again.

Anyway, I was sitting there, minding my own business, trying to come up with new story ideas. I wasn’t really paying a lot of attention to what might be going on around me.Not that there was much going on. Thought I pretty much had the park to myself. For whatever reason, I picked my head up just in time to notice…IT. A shadow, which was walking out of the shadows.

All the movies and books will tell you that vampires look like regular people. except, with fangs I guess. So not true. Actually, the first thing I noticed was the smell. From about 20 yards away there was a reek. The odor was like rotting garbage that’s been sitting for weeks.The kind of smell that makes you look for a cloth or bandanna to cover your face with just so as not to gag.

The shadow only moved a few steps then stopped, poised, like a cat and then just, lunged, at the hedges to the side of the path. It came back into view dragging two people, carrying them, one in each hand. They must have been making out behind the bushes or something, I never knew they were there. It had the two, a man and a woman, each at arms length, their feet dangling several inches above the ground.

With a quick move, it brings the girl in his right hand close to it’s face, all the while, she is kicking and screaming, I can see her thrashing about. Her mouth is contorted, yelling, but there is no sound at all. No screams, no sounds of scuffle, nothing. just silence.

It pulls her in, right next to it’s face. Without any warning or indication beyond that, it pulls back it’s lips and These huge teeth are suddenly tearing into her throat. I try to move, to holler, but I find myself frozen stiff. The guy in it’s left hand is kicking and punching the best he can with no obvious effect on it and again, still no sound. It has it’s face stuck to her neckline though and her movements are slowing.

This scene drags out I don’t know how long. Finally, she is not moving at all but it is still going at her like a fiend. It finally pulls it’s head and and tosses her body a good twenty feet, as though she were a rag doll.

It turns its face slowly, almost dramatically, to the guy in it’s right hand. He is still doing all he can, writhing and kicking and punching. All to no effect. While it has the guy in his right hand by the nape of his neck, it reaches with its now free left hand and grabs the guy by the face it seems. With one hard yank, it has literally ripped the guys head from his neck. The entire scene is like a nightmare. I am paralyzed and can’t do anything to help or even to run for the police. I can only watch as the thing practically sticks it’s whole face into the fountain of blood that is pouring from the massive wound.

After what feels like hours, it tosses this body almost casually a distance away. Then, to my worst fear, it picks its head up and looks straight at me. Walking in no hurry right to me.

I am no coward. I’m no superman either. It’s that I didn’t want to run, I simply couldn’t. I was held in place where I had been sitting the whole time.

It walked right up to me. Oh God it was ugly. Beyond ugly. It stooped at it’s knees to be face to face with me. It’s face was in a permanent state of partial decay it seemed, as though it had been resurrected from the grave months too late.

It looked me in the face, in the eye, and I heard it ask me a question. ” Did you like the show just now?” It’s voice was gravelly and hoarse. ” I did all of that for you , you know. It is a gift.” it said to me with this terrible, decayed grin on it’s face. It continued, ” Most of you cattle never know when we are nearby. We have our own gift you see. We are ‘hidden’. We are able to hide in plain view of others. Anything I touch, the clothes I wear, all are hidden.”

I felt as if I could speak now, I was being allowed to speak. I found my voice with a cough. ” So those people you killed, You hid them also?” “Of course” It chuckled, ” once we decide to hide something or someone, they will not be seen until we decide to let them be seen. As I showed you, but no one around would have seen.”

Being at a loss for sensible words, I asked ” So why couldn’t I hear anything then?” It replied, with a tone of indignation almost, “Hidden is hidden. In all ways.”"So what do you want with me?” I asked, fearing the worst, but unable to stop myself.

Staring at me, peering into me almost, it said quietly, ” I want you to write about me. Tell grand stories. I want you to make people love me and worship me.” It went on, “I want them to forget their fear and bring themselves willingly to me..”

“You want people to worship you?” I asked out loud. ” No!” it almost roared the words at me. More calmly, composed again, it said, “I don’t need worship. I grow tired of the hunt. If you write the stories, tell them tales of how I am misunderstood and how enlightened I can make them, they will bring the feast to me.”

My God, this thing wanted nothing more than a never ending line of people who practically throw themselves at it, knowing or not that it is their own death they approach when they seek it out.

“Do you think the blood prince Vlad Tepes and the brat Lestat were fictions? of course not.They found talented humans to convince others to bring the food to their very door. I want the same. You shall be my herald.”

My mind was straining at the thought. The supposed ‘classics’ were nothing more than bait. Lures for starry eyed thrillseekers to place themselves at deaths door. I may as well be an executioner, damned much as this..this…thing.

The last words it said to me were these, ” I know your scent human. I know you and I will find you if you do not heed me. I will be waiting.”

In the blink of an eye, it was gone. I could move again. The only thing that remained was a foul odor. Like rotting garbage.

I can’t do it. I can’t write those stories. No matter what price. So, I left. I left the park, the city and the state. I ran as far as I can. I won’t say where to. I too am hidden now. Hopefully hidden from the rotting creature that would kill and kill and kill. Always near lights and holy places now.

Please believe me. The old stories are true, but they aren’t true. The monsters exist. They are real. But they are not glamorous or wise. They are not sexual and vibrant.

They are always in the shadows, hidden.

Pete and Pomeroy meet Kodiak Joe

Pete and Pomeroy are two of the best friends that have ever been. Pete is a furry and white polar bear cub who is helpful and curious and sometimes gets in trouble because he just can’t say no to a dare.

Pomeroy is a little penguin. He is the same age as Pete and their families have lived together for a very long time. Pomeroy is very curious and always wants to do the most adventurous things, which many times, he shouldn’t.

Pete and Pomeroy play together, eat together, go to school together and yes, they even get in trouble together. Not on purpose, mind you, it’s just something that happens sometimes, when a young polar bear and penguin are too curious and adventurous for their own good.

On one particularly adventurous day, Pete and Pomeroy decided to see who could go the furthest from home without getting lost. Pete wasn’t sure about this game at first, but then Pomeroy double dog dared him and that was the end of that. Off they went to see where was the most far away.

They rolled in the soft snow and slid down hard packed snow hills. They poked their noses and beaks into small animals nests and burrows, usually getting a good squeaking at. They had about as much fun as you can while one is busy going far away.

As time went on and they noticed they were getting close to where the furthest away they usually get to, they quieted down and Pomeroy told Pete a story he heard from the son of the penguin chief, Ernie.

Ernie said that was a great, dark creature that lived in a woods almost at the very edge of the west side of the North Land. He told all the other hatchlings that his father, the Chief penguin, said this creature was big as two polar bears and taller than a yeti. Ernie went on to say that this animal was the meanest thing on four legs and if anyone ever saw it, they would be turned into penguin salami, whatever that was.

Pete listened very carefully to the story because he noticed they were getting very far away now and surely they had to be close to the edge of the North Land. They had been going for almost two hours in penguin and polar bear time.

Sure enough, they saw a dark wooded area coming into view as they kept walking farther and farther. Pomeroy was getting a little worried now but didn’t say anything because Pete looked fine and he was the one who had dared Pete to go. Pete made sure he looked ok because he didn’t want Pomeroy to think he was a chicken, what ever that was.

Even though they were both getting worried, they kept going toward the woods.

Very soon, they walked up to the very first trees and looked at each other. Pete finally said he thought his was about the furthest away he had ever gotten and Pomeroy agreed. Pete was about to suggest they go back home now, very quickly, when they both heard something growl at them.

Pete looked at Pomeroy and Pomeroy looked at Pete. Pomeroy asked Pete “What did you eat for lunch that made your stomach rumble like that?” and Pete said, “that wasn’t my stomach growling, I thought it was yours.”

They looked at each other again and Just when Pete was going to tell Pomeroy to run, Pomeroy said “Let’s go see what made that growl like that.” Pete looked at Pomeroy like he was the craziest little penguin alive, but before he could say no, Pomeroy started moving. Pete looked at the little penguin, shook his head at his friend and followed behind him.

Now, little polar bears love to practice hunting and try very hard to be quiet when they are sneaking up on someone. But penguins are fishermen and only know how to be quiet in the water. So, before either of them knew it, they had been found by the animal that made that fearsome growl.

A huge, bigger than huge, bear stood up on it’s rear legs in front of them. This had to be the creature Ernie the penguin, the chief penguins son, had been talking about. It was incredibly big and had dark brown fur all over. It was a bear, even bigger than a polar bear. Bigger than the biggest polar bear, which was the polar bear King.

All Pomeroy could do is watch as this huge, scary brown bear came rushing at them and tried to grab Pete with his teeth. Pete tried to turn and run, he tried so hard, but he was no match for this giant bear and he only got himself turned around when he felt the great bear grab him.

Suddenly, the bear let him go. Pete ran as fast as he could and when he got just far enough away, he turned and saw Pomeroy pecking at the great bears feet. He pecked his paws and his legs and he even poked at the huge bears tail. The whole time, Pete saw that the giant bear was too big too catch a quick little penguin. Pomeroy would move to another spot as soon as the beast could get himself turned to where he had been a moment before.

Pete decided to make the very loudest growl that he could and distracted the bear just enough to make the monster look in his direction. When he saw the giant looking his way, he yelled to Pomeroy to “Run, run away!” and Pomeroy waddled just as fast as he could while the dark, hairy monster seemed to be distracted and not moving after him.

That didn’t last long though, because the giant came growling and snarling quickly behind them as they rushed back to the outer edge of the woods and into the snowy area that would lead them home.

Once they reached outside edge of the woods, they still didn’t slow down even though they didn’t hear anything chasing them anymore. They just kept running and running as fast as their little legs would carry them, all the way home to their families.

After they calmed themselves down and their little hearts stopped beating so quickly, they decided to tell their parents what they had done and about the great, monstrous creature they had seen.

Their parents weren’t happy at all when they heard just how far away they two had gone and how much trouble they had caused. Pete’s dad and Pomeroy’s dad both said the two would have to see the polar bear King to tell him what happened in case the polar bears would need to be ready.

As they walked into the cave of the polar bear king, they heard a deep, rumbling voice coming from inside the cave. They both knew the polar bear king’s voice and his was deep, but not that deep or grumbly.

When they finally reached the back of the cave, both Pete and Pomeroy were shocked to see the monster, that huge, dark, mean, giant bear was here in the cave. Both of the them were afraid the bear had come to take them back to the woods and finish his dinner of polar bear cub and penguin hatchling.

They stopped in front of the polar bear king and waited, holding their breath. Suddenly, the giant bear said “Yes, those are the ones I saw today.” The polar bear king asked him if he was sure and the large bear said “Oh yes, I won’t forget that little bird with his little beak peaking at me to let his friend go. Those are the two alright.”

The polar bear king looked down at Pete and Pomeroy and asked them if hey had seen this bear before. They looked up at the king and both nodded their head yes. Then they waited for what else might come.

The polar bear king pointed to the giant bear and said “This bear is our friend. His name is Kodiak Joe and he is a type of bear called a Kodiak bear which is one of the biggest types of bear in the whole world.”

As the polar bear king explained, it turns out that he, Kodiak Joe, lives in those woods because he likes to be by himself. He came to the North Land some years ago and met the polar bear King. He asked if he could live in the North Land and the King said he could, but asked if he would help as a watcher and guard from the yetis, who lived on the other side of the woods. Kodiak Joe agreed and had been a friend and guard to the polar bears and penguins for a long time now, but preferring to live alone.

When he saw the two little ones wandering so close to the and, which also means close to the yetis home also, he tried to scare them away in order to keep them safe. Then he followed them to make sure they came all the way back.

After everything was done and Kodiak Joe had gone back to his woods by the edge of the North Land, the two little adventurers and their families went back to their own caves and homes.

Pete and Pomeroy had to stay indoors for two more days and help clean up when they would rather go play, but then were able to go back out as long as they promised not to go as far away as they could anymore.

They both promised and for at least a couple more days didn’t get into any trouble at all.

The North Land

There is a very special place that no man has ever seen or been to. The stories of this land have been passed to people who know the words of the animals. Animals love to tell stories and when they find a man or woman who can hear them, they will tell of many great and wonderful things we might have never known about otherwise. One of these places is called the North Land

The North Land is the place farthest north, but just below the North Pole, far away from the eyes of the rest of the world. Of course,this is quite far from you and me.

The only thing we really know about that place called the North Land is that it is very unique. Probably the only place in the world where polar bears and penguins live together. Not only do they live together there, they help each other.

Quite some time ago, when the first penguins found themselves in the North Land, they thought they were alone and decided to make the best of things and settle there. They lived together and played together. They fished together and had a tremendous time, all by themselves.

However, the polar bears had been living there in the North Land first and were great hunters who traveled all across the North Land and beyond to find food. Especially to find rivers and lakes where they might get some fish. Polar bears were very good at catching fish, but they were never always quite able to catch enough.

When the polar bears came back from beyond the North Land, they were always hungry and tired and wanted to rest. This time, when they came back, they could smell the penguins from quite a distance and never having smelled penguins before, wondered what in the world was in their homeland.

Creeping up very quietly and being able to hide in the snow what with their fur being so white, they watched the penguins. They watched the penguins work and play. They watched the penguins take care of their little penguins, just like polar bears take care of their cubs. They also watched the penguins fishing.

Now, polar bears are good at fishing, but not nearly as good as the penguins. It seemed as though the penguins could fly in the water, catching fish as easily as they could want. They always had plenty to eat and the polar bear king had an idea.

Slowly, the great polar bear king walked toward the penguins and when the penguins saw this huge, white, creature who looked as though he could eat them all with one swipe of his large teeth, they were afraid. In the end though, the leader of the penguins stood straight and waddled over to where the polar bear king had stopped. In a nervous, squeaky voice, he asked the polar bear how might he help him today.

The polar bear king saw how afraid this little penguin was and yet he still was brave enough to stand up for the penguins and face him. He thought he might like this little penguin quite a lot. So, he began to tell the penguins about the North Land and how long the polar bears had lived there and how they were always hungry and had to leave their home just to find enough food.

The penguin chief thought to himself that this polar bear, and the others as well, were very big, tough animals who could fight and protect very well. He had an idea.

He began to tell the polar bear king, huge, furry and white as the snow, how they might make a deal. If the polar bears would protect the penguins from some of the other big animals the penguins had seen and tried to hide from after they got there, creatures like wolves and other bears and even the monstrous, huge and very scary Yetis, the penguins would share their catch with the polar bears and the polar bears would not have to go out wandering from the North Land ever again in search of food.

The polar bear king thought this was a great idea and promised all the penguins that for as long as a single polar bear lived in the North Land, the polar bears would protect the penguins. The Chief penguin proclaimed that as long as there were penguins in the North Land, the polar bears would never be hungry.

For many years since then, the polar bears and penguins have lived and played together. Each taking care of the other.

Polar bear cubs grew up playing with penguin hatchlings and would become the best of friends over times. Whole families of penguins and polar bears would adopt each other as though they were one and the same in one big, happy extended family.

Occasionally, the polar bears would have to protect the penguins. Sometimes, when the winters were very cold, the other animals who didn’t care to make agreements or cooperate would try to sneak in and snap up a penguin or two. It didn’t happen too often as most of the other creatures were very afraid of the giant and fierce looking polar bears. Polar bears can look fierce if they really have to. They would much rather swim and play and eat fish though.

The only creatures who would dare to test the polar bears were the Yeti. Great, tall, hairy things that walked on two legs and had long arms and big teeth. The yeti did not scare the polar bears though and the yeti knew it. Most of the time, the yetis would leave the polar bears alone because it was too hard and too much work to get past a polar bear.

So, they had to keep their eyes open and be careful if they ever went too far from home. For the most part though, life was good and they had so much fun together that it was worth the occasional bit of trouble they came into.

Cthulhu’s Grave

August 2, 2008

Contractors journal; Sept 1, 2004

Jobsite; County Acreage

7:00 A.M.:

We have arrived at the location for jobsite preparations.

Henry and Mack are out setting stakes and measuring sections. It seems the county isn’t too familiar with this land they inherited. This isn’t an old farm acreage, which is what they said it was. This looks like a very old cemetery. One that hasn’t seen ANY attention for a very long time.

We are going to have to get the county inspector out here before we can do much of anything else, it looks like there are graves that will have to be dis-interred and relocated before we can bring in the graders and other tractors.

That’s not our job and I won’t be messing with it.

10:00 A.M. :

County Inspector is on his way, finally. Will arrive after noon as it is quite a bit further away from the closest town than they thought it was also.

Will send Mack back to the yard to bring in two boxes, I won’t be making that drive back and forth into next town every day. I’ll just keep a cot in the second box, use the first for office. If any of the guys want to stay out here instead, I’ll have Mack bring some extra cots as well.

We are WAAAAY out in the middle of nowhere.

1:00 P.M. :

County Inspectors office called back, claims that the inspector slated to come out has had a family emergency, will have no one available till Monday. Hell, it’s Friday now, this is getting worse all the time.

Mack will be back with boxes tonight and cots, so far, it’s just Henry and me here as the rest of the crew wasn’t supposed to be here till Monday either, we just got here early to make sure we had a clear entry and exact directions to the place.

There is still prep work to do. Finish staking out the perimeter and sectioning the area. May even investigate the cemetery more to see how stable the ground is. We don’t need guys falling into collapsing graves.

8:00 P.M.:

Mack arrived with boxes and supplies. As we were getting things stowed, Henry called a sound to our attention coming from somewhere in cemetery, sounds like voices or something. Most likely it’s animals or the wind. Out in the boonies like this, sounds carry a lot further. We won’t do much more tonight since we got site setup so late. We will do some more layout and marking over the weekend, to kill time.

The cell phones have lost any reception we were getting earlier. It’s a weird kind of static, not harsh, more soft, like a bunch of whispering or something. Monday can’t get here quick enough.

Personal Journal entry Henry Athe

9-1-08

Just arrived at the new job site with the rest of the survey team, Mack Brown and the job foreman. This doesn’t look like a farm though, it’s a really cool old cemetery instead. I hope I get some time to look around before things get rolling. It’s been over a year since my last expedition in school.

We’re going to get started on staking the perimeter, but I think the foreman isn’t very happy with the situation. A cemetery means a lot more work than they expected and big delays with relocating the cemetery occupants.

Some of these monuments look to be extremely old. It’s very neglected and overgrown. I wonder what on earth makes it smell so bad though. It’s like the stone monuments themselves contain a foul odor.

Oh wait, gotta run, foreman is ready to get started.

OK, finally back. What a day. It took Mack forever to pull the office trailer back. But at least we have another place to work from. The foreman towed his work trailer with him when he came here, so it’s good to have someplace else to crash in. The foreman says we might as well sleep in the trailers since it’s so far to the closest town. I guess that’s fine, we have the generators and our trailer has a bathroom built in ( the port-a-potty kind ), sort of an indoor outhouse.

I wonder how long the removal will delay us, the foreman says we won’t get the county to come out till Monday and they don’t even know a cemetery is here either.

If that’s the case, I guess I’ll just go back home till they get everything settled. Not much I can do here while they move all the graves.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll get to look around a little.

Contractors journal; Sept 2, 2004

Jobsite; County Acreage

6:00 A.M. :

Seeing as there are no neighbors to annoy, we decided to get an early start. This is difficult land to work with. The entire area seems surrounded by a deep wooded perimeter, as if it were placed as a natural boundary around the cemetery. Not like a regular woods though. Almost like a swamp, just not as..swampy? I don’t know.

There is moss, weeds and vines everywhere. The smell is unpleasant and it seems like even the stone has absorbed the stench.

Ground tests show the land to be rock filled and grayish. No wonder they put a cemetery here, it would have been hard to make it farm-able. Note, they may have used the area as a chemical dump of sorts or the undertaker of these buried was bad at his job. The dirt has an unpleasant odor like formaldehyde or something has mixed in it. It may require chemical testing and replacing with fill dirt from out of the area. Wonderful.

Most of the cemetery is flat with ground markers or collapsed monuments. The markers we could vaguely make out are incredibly old. It seems this cemetery has not only been unused, it has been forgotten about entirely for what seems to be a couple hundred years. Seriously. The few dates we could read were in the 1700′s.

There are a few broken down old mausoleums and wrecked and leaning memorials. These are scattered throughout the cemetery randomly it seems.

9:00 A.M. :

Henry fell during a walk through inspection of the cemetery., right into a decayed grave. The ground just gave out under his weight. Just what I was afraid of. The graves are so old the ground is caving in over broken down caskets, etc… Must have hit his head because he said it sounded like voices or something was coming from the ground where he fell. I told him this is the wrong cemetery and George Romero is nowhere in sight.

On another note, the grave he fell into, the occupant must have been entirely turned to dust by now as there was no evidence of bones or even wood from a casket. No shreds of linen or anything.

If that’s the case, then we don’t have to worry about zombies after all. Ha. Got to still have a body in order to chase folks around. Even in a horror flick.

12:00 P.M. :

Just before lunch, we discovered a very odd crypt or series of stone lids. Three stone monuments are all beside each other with a pile of rubble that was likely some sort of monument or identifier for them. These are like nothing else in the cemetery and have piqued our curiosity. There are very faint inscriptions and symbols engraved on them, but they are hard to make out anymore. They will require transportation or being broken down if the county doesn’t want to move them. To move them will require a crane and probably three flatbed trucks, these stone slabs must weigh tons.

The slabs are in the oldest part of the cemetery and will be a pain to get to in order to remove them. I am liking this deal less all the time.

Contractors journal; Sept 2, 2004

Jobsite; County Acreage

6:00 P.M. :

We finished inspecting the area, a few more graves collapsed under just a person’s weight walking over them. We will need to have all these removed before we can do anything. With the degree of neglect and decay, It’s surprising the ground hasn’t sunk in over these before now. As it is, they are almost like traps or something. They look fine until you are right on them, then they collapse.

Looked over the crypts again. I swear, one of the lids looked as though it was moved off once a long time ago and put back into place as there are scratches on the sides of the lid. We tried to read more of the signs and inscriptions on the crypts but the signs are like nothing we’ve ever seen before. And no language any of us recognized. Henry was an archeology student and went on a number of digs before he became a surveyor. He says he’s never seen anything like it either.

While we were walking around, we ended up by the strange slabs again. As we were trying to look carefully to be aware of cave ins and stuff, Mack happened to find a very old book lying on the ground. It is very weather beaten but actually still read-able.

The only word on the cover of the book that is remotely decipherable to me is the title, Necronomicon. I’m not even sure how to pronounce that.

Henry was able to read this though, He said that it is written in Greek. He worked with Greek texts as a student and was pretty familiar with it. He will take it with him and try to go through it, maybe get an idea if it has anything to do with the slabs.

9:00 P.M. :

Started an extra generator for light stands to keep animals at bay. You can hear them, must be from a distance, because we can hear the sounds like voices again and it is too constant to be wind. Maybe some of them have made dens in some of the graves because I swear the sounds are coming from below us. Too many late night movies I guess.

11:00 P.M. :

Woke up to loud banging sounds. As if someone were hitting a wall with clubs or something. Henry and Mack came out of the other box when I came out. They heard the same things. We looked around as best we could with the light stands facing out over the cemetery. Nothing appeared to be moving but the sounds continued very loudly for at least fifteen minutes, all while the other sound, the voices talking sound, continued.

I wonder if some hayseed kids from a nearby farm are wandering around trying to have fun with the new guys. Still, for a prank, it sure got my blood going. Just to be sure, we are going to take shifts keeping an eye on the place to make sure the kids don’t get any more adventurous than that.

Mack will take the first shift, then wake Henry in about 3 hours, then it’s my turn. I can’t wait for the rest of the crew to get here on Monday.

Mack says it sounds like the banging is coming from the side of the cemetery where the crypts are. That would be a natural place for kids to hide, heck, it’s about the only place for them to hide except right by the boxes here.

We may want to look into putting temporary fencing around the site till the cemetery is cleared out. We don’t want any kids or others getting hurt falling into these graves and breaking their necks or something. That’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.

Personal Journal entry Henry Athe

9-2-08

What a day! Geez. First, I fell into a collapsed grave. It was weird because walking up t it, it wasn’t sunken in or anything. Just, one minute I’m walking and the next I’m falling into a huge hole. I swear there was nothing in it though. That ground should have sunk in. The creepy part about it is it sounded like someone was in the hole with me, talking but I couldn’t make out the words. The foreman said I bumped my head or hallucinated it but I know what I heard.

Then we found these really strange crypts or something. More like lids to crypts but huge thick ones. What makes them so strange is the markings on them. They’re like some strange cryptographs or something. I saw a lot of cryptographs and sigla in the egyptian pyramids and druidic burial grounds. Even in the arabic deserts among the hidden tombs there were some wild signs and images, but this stuff on these slabs is nothing like those. These here are …different….mean looking somehow.

To top that off, as if it wasn’t enough, Mack found this book. Wow, what a book. This thing must be ancient. It has similar symbols on the cover of it like those on the slabs, but, the words I can make out are an old Greek. The title says it is the Necronomicon. Now, in Greek, and not a literal translation, but likely the intended meaning, Necronomicon means “Concerning the Dead”. I have heard of a book called the Necronomicon but I thought it was only a myth or a legend.

Supposedly, the Necronomicon was written by someone referred to as the “Mad Arab” In this book, it says the author is Abdul Alhazred, who wrote it in Damascus just before mysteriously dying in the year 738. I wonder if this is real. If so, it has to be a translation because it appears all the text is in Greek. If it were the real book, it would have to have been written in Arabic if he wrote it that long ago.

I remember hearing some of the myths about the Necronomicon during one of the Saharan digs I went on a couple years ago. The guide who was with us said that a man who communed with ancient evil wrote the book of gods and creatures who ruled the worlds before the time of man. These godlike creatures were hideous, wholly evil, insanely evil whose entire purpose was slaughter and dominion over all living things. The ruling god was Cthulu, who lies “dead, but dreaming”. A giant, ultimate terrifying creature that was an abomination which ruled over other hideous monstrosities.

This mad Arab wrote down all the secret spells and summonings to call these abominations back to the world of men and gain power, but was supposedly driven mad and killed by those same beings.

I will have to read through the book tonight to find out if this is really the same book. If it is, my old history professor will know what to do with it. I can take it to him.

Oh, now everyone can hear the voice sounds. It’s really eerie, as though there are voices coming from the graves themselves. The foreman says it must be animals who have dens in the ground below the hollowed out graves or something. God I hope so.

Uh oh. Something is going on. Write more later.

Ok, some crazy kids are banging around the cemetery or something. Tried to scare the crap out of us. After reading through some of this book, they did a good job of it. My heart is still pounding. We will take guard shifts to keep an eye out. I will relieve Mack about 2.

I will study the book some more. See if it has anything to do with those crypts.

Contractors journal; Sept 3, 2004

Jobsite; County Acreage

5:00 A.M. :

Couldn’t sleep, woke up to relieve Henry early. At least all the racket seems to have stopped. I can’t find him. Woke up Mack to help me go look for him. My biggest fear is he fell in one of those damn graves and hurt himself while walking around. Last thing I need is a workman’s comp claim this early in the project.

9:00 A.M :

I almost wonder if Henry didn’t get himself lost in the woods surrounding the place in the dark. He just doesn’t seem to be anywhere around here and we should have at least found a cave in if that’s what happened.

We should have at least heard him calling for help if he were lost. This place is just weird. The way sounds get picked up or not.

We will have to go looking for him in the perimeter if he doesn’t show up real quick here.

11:00 A.M. :

We have been searching the area surrounding the cemetery for a while now without any luck. Henry is missing. I don’t know if he got scared or thought he might make a run for help or something.

Mack thought he heard something as we approached the slabs we saw before. Is it possible that Henry got in there somehow? Maybe trapped underground from falling through a grave?

We are going to try moving one of the slabs to see if that might have happened. I thought one looked scratched as though it had been moved before. I have a couple of pry bars in the job trailer, Those should be able to move them.

3:00 P.M. :

We have found that we were able to slide the slab that looked as if it had been moved before. I can’t believe it, there is a stone stairway concealed under the slab. There are more of those symbols and designs on the walls of the stairs. The smell is horrible, likely rain and underground water has gotten to corpses and just moldering away down there.

After discussing it, Mack and I have decided that one of us will take a lantern and go down to see where the stairs go. Hopefully, we might find Henry.

After a coin toss, Mack will be the one to go down the stairs. We will use a pair of the two way radios to keep in contact as he goes down. If need be, I can go down right after him.

The sounds like voices are louder down there, I told Mack to be careful of animals hiding down there, they might get territorial.

Just for security sake, I will use the digital voice recorder to record the entire discussion, in case something happens. We want to keep a record in case of an insurance claim or something.

County sheriff, investigations log

On Monday, September 4, 2004, a county inspector arrived at the scene to evaluate contractor concerns. He found no one at the job site and reported a disturbed location to the sheriffs dept.

After a preliminary search of the area, the only thing found was a digital voice recorder containing a disturbing transaction, as follows:

Voice 1 – Testing, testing. Ok Mack, I think this thing is working, go ahead and start down.

Voice 2 – OK Boss, how much line do we have again? I have it around my belt.

Boss – You have about 300 feet Mack, that’s all I could find that we had before the crew shows up.

Mack – Ok, Lantern should be fine, me and Henry had just put new batteries in last night.

Mack – Wow Boss, you should see the crazy writing on the walls on the way down here, just like the stuff on the lid, only lots more and weirder.

Boss – Can you make out anything sensible out of it?

Mack – No Boss, just really weird stuff. Goddamn it stinks to high heaven down here.

Boss- I know, it’s reeking it’s way out here. Good lord what they have down there, dead animals or something?

Boss – you see any floor yet Mack?

Mack – Not yet boss, but these pictures are getting really creepy as I go down. More, I don’t know, they look violent or something.

Mack – Oh Jesus, what the hell is that? Can you hear that Boss, I swear I just saw something moving when that noise started again. Scared the hell out of me.

Boss – What is it Mack? What can you see?

Mack – I dunno, it’s like ….I can see shadows moving just at the edge of the light. But….they don’t look like anything , any animal I’ve ever seen before.

Mack – What is that? I don’t know Boss, this is really getting weird down here, I still don’t see any bottom to these stairs and these….things look like they’re getting braver I can see glimpses of …things..in the edge of the lights. The pictures boss, oh god, the walls are covered with this, this…insane stuff. Horrible things

( sounds in the distance, like indistinct voices and banging or dragging )

Boss – Mack, what is it what the hell is going on!?

Mack – Oh geez, what is that! What are you? What are you doing, get away from me. Go Boss! Get the hell out of here. Oh God, there are more of them. NO NO Get away dammit. GET AWAY from me.

Boss – I’m coming down Mack, just hang on ( cut off )

Mack – No get out before they get up there, goddammit! Run now, shut the damn lid and run!

Boss – Hang on Mack, hold on buddy. I’m coming

Mack – NO NO NO NONO, GO RUN. GET AWAY GET OFF MEE! GOOO

( Mack’s transmission is cut off )

Boss- Mack!. Mack! Where are you Mack? Oh God. What the hell is going on? Maaaack!

Voice 3 – Mack is gone, will you come too?

( Voice 3 is not that of Voice 2, known as Mack, audio experts indicate after analysis that Voice 3 is not one of the original voices. )

Boss – Ah Jesus, who the hell are you? What did you do to…Oh God, what is that, Jesus what are you? (Heavy scraping sound is heard now in the background, as if stone is being scraped ) NO! NO! STAY DOWN, GET BACK DAMN YOU! NO NO NOOOOO

( transmission is cut off )

That is the end of the recording. Nothing further was recorded on the device and the person(s) heard are nowhere to be found.

Due to the nature of the recording, a task force is being sent to the area, where a full ground search will be conducted.

A search of the area below the slab will be started as soon as the Sheriff and backup can arrive.

DAILY NEWS HERALD

September 5, 2004

Article by Hank Nichols

Photos by Clem Arnold

Over the weekend, a construction survey team was reported to be missing by a County Inspector. Upon the Sheriffs arrival at the scene of an old cemetery at the farthest edge of the county, The deputies that apparently called back to the Sheriffs office for additional manpower in a possible construction accident were reported as missing in action. The only effects found were those pieces of evidence collected by the investigating deputy.

The Sheriffs department could not say as to the whereabouts of the missing construction crew or deputies, but did confirm that a search party would be started as soon as possible.

October 30th, 2007

Come a once, come a twice

Come on folks, roll the dice.

Play the game fair and square

shake them dice in the air.

You  play this game just one time

Waste this chance is just a crime.

You could sit and watch or just walk away

But what’s the point if you don’t play

The game itself is why we’re here

find your place up close and near

Take a chance, don’t pretend to hate

play the game, tempt the fates

Doesn’t matter if you win or lose

just playing the game will cure the blues.

Be part of the game and have some fun

you’ll wish you had when your turn is done.

January 7th, 200

I read an interesting column by Al Martinez commenting on a poet and whether poets should be “accepted” merely because they produce ‘art’.

Of course, Art is not so easily defined for everyone.  The man in question in the Column is Bukowski.  While some find ‘art’ in his writing, I was not one of them.  As I expect not everyone finds ‘art’ in my own writings or stories.

I find art in “feeling”.  When a song or story, a poem, painting or lyric strikes in such a way as to ‘feel’ the piece rather than just hear it or see it.   For me, in that, I find art.

There have been many people who have created or produced art, what  I find as art that would not be considered, or at least what I consider, to be “good” people.

They succumb to base behavior, perhaps even revel in it.  Of my favorite ‘artists’ Poe is probably my most favorite.  There has been quite a few notations made on Mr Poe’s life that show he may not have been a very virtuous or always even a “nice” person.   However, it is not the person who produced the work that I admire, moreso the work itself.

There are, I am quite sure, some people out there who would testify in court on a stack of Bibles that I am the least saintly person they have ever met.  I can’t say as I have ever intended to be such, but  I can’t deny some may find that in another person, regardless of intentions.   Even so, had those people heard or read my work, they too might find the work itself to be able to stand on it’s own, separate from the one who produced the work.

Both ‘Art’ and ‘Character’ are among the most subjective things we will ever encounter in the lives of people.  I find no problem being able to separate great art from poor people.

Rainy Day
One day, when Creator was sitting out on his front porch and just looking out at all the things in creation that were his, he saw a little boy, out in this world, sitting in a field and crying.

For some reason, this greatly disturbed Creator and he wanted to know what could be troubling the child so much as to sit all alone so sad.

He hopped over the porch rail and before he landed in the field ( Creators front porch looks out anywhere he wants to see ) he turned into a little puppy dog. He wandered up to the little boy to see what was the matter.

The little boy didn’t notice the puppy at first, seeing as he was so sad. Then the puppy came right up to him and he was so friendly that the little boy gave a small, troubled smile to see him.

” I don’t know where you came from little dog.” said the little boy. ” It is good to have someone here who is nice though.” The puppy seemed to smile a little also and wagged his little tail as he crawled into the boys lap and got comfortable.

The little boy just sat there for a while, petting the little puppy in his lap, seeming to have such heavy troubles for such a little boy.

After a bit, the boy started to stand up and put the puppy back on the ground. “I have to go home now dog.” the little boy told him, but didn’t seem to be too happy about that either. So, the cute little puppy dog, who was really the Creator, followed the sad little boy home.

When they got back to the little boys’ house, all of the people there were sad too and some others were crying as well. This greatly troubled the Creator, for his purpose wasn’t for people to go about life so sad all the time.

He followed the little boy into the house and listened to others as the little boy sat down in the front room.
” It’s such a shame” said Uncle and Poppa nodded his head, agreeing with him. Momma said “ I wish there was something we could do.” and Aunt said there just was nothing anyone could do.

Creator was puzzled by this and wanted to find out exactly what was causing such sadness. He could have known their minds anytime, he is Creator after all, but he was respectful of his people and didn’t like to sneak around in peoples thoughts. All a part of his gift of free will, it is.

Finally, after much quiet and still, Grandpa said ” If there is no rain soon, there will be no food at all and we will all go hungry and be more than poor.”

“AHA!” thought Creator, now he knew why everyone was so sad. the rain wasn’t coming to feed the crops and help the people

The little puppy got up and wandered out of the house, making sure to give the sad little boy a big lick on his cheek to say goodbye, and the little boy actually smiled then.

Creator then disappeared to go visit Earth, another one of his creations and just as alive as anything else, just most others don’t realize it, because they don’t often see what is beyond themselves.

He came to the inner side of Earth and asked her if everything was well. She said she felt fine and was very thankful that Creator should come visit her again. Then she asked he was concerned?

Creator told Earth about the little boy and the people who had no rain and life was becoming very hard for them.
‘Oh”, she said, nodding her head, “Yes, it is sad for some people, sometimes I cannot send the rain to certain places because of how things are moving and working. It is a careful practice I must keep when trying to provide for so many who live with me.”

Earth told Creator that rain would be coming to a place that was somewhat far from the people, but if they were to go there, they might be happier. Of course, if Creator wished it, she could send rain whenever and wherever he wanted, but left to her own, she would keep her practices. Because Creator respects the free will he gives to all he creates, he respects her decision, knowing she does a very good job at taking care of the others he sends to live with her, and said he will let her know.

This time, Creator goes back to the house with the people and the little boy, but disguised as an old man instead of a puppy.

He walks up to the porch and knocked on the door. Momma comes and says “hello, please come in.” because the old man looks like someone she knows and just has this very good ‘feeling’ to her ( and everyone he meets).

When he is in the front room with everyone there, he tells them about the problem with the rain, and that there will be none for this place for awhile, but, if they were to go to another place he describes to them, they will find better times.

Grandpa says ” Thank you so much for giving that information my friend, but the truth is, we have no time now to move to somewhere else.” Creator waits and Grandpa adds ” Many of the people are sick now for lack of water and food, to travel, now many of them would be worse off and that would not make things better.”

The old man tells everyone that sometimes, choices and change are difficult, but sometimes have to be done if things are to get better.

Everyone nodded, but no one moved. Creator looked around and asked if there wasn’t a small boy here.

Momma said yes and took the old mans hand and Grandpa followed them to a bedroom. There was the little boy in his bed, looking very sick. Grandpa told the old man that the boy was one of those who was getting ill with no rain and such a move wouldn’t be good for him.

The old man crouched down next to the boy on the bed and touched his forehead, bringing a cool touch to him and the small boy opened his eyes and smiled at the old man who had eyes just like the puppy dog who had visited him just a day ago.

he old man asked the little boy if he could go with everyone else to a new place where the rain would come and things could be better. The little boy smiled and looked at the old man,shook his and said ” It’s ok if they go to someplace where the rain is without me, it would be too hard to do all that and take me too.

The old man smiled and touched the boys forehead again so gently, taking his fever away with that touch.
He then said thank you to everyone and goodbye as he walked thorough the house and out the front door.

As the old man turned down the walk from the house he said some words, almost like a prayer and by the time the family could no longer see the old man walking anymore, the first raindrops began to fall.

Creator sat down on his front porch sometime later, maybe a day, maybe a year, time means so little for him, and looked out over the rail into creation and he watched as a little boy played outside in the rain, everyone was outside in the rain and life would soon be much better for all of them.

And Creator sat back in his chair and smiled.