"Creature from a Nightmare"

Paul couldn't have felt more fine. He had just ended a ten hour day at the office, and normally he would have been dog tired, but today he felt just fine. One of his clients was being sued by an ex-wife and the firm had been working hard to defend his interests, but all of that ceased to matter to him as he stepped out into the parking lot and sat down in his car. He had been planning a trip to see his girlfriend, Samantha, at the university for a little over a month now, and the day had finally arrived. He had met Samantha earlier in the year at his brother's birthday party, but they lived two hours away from each other, and both had very busy schedules. He was driving over for a long weekend where he was going to try and pursuade her to go away with him, over the Christmas recess, for a three week trip to South America. Samantha was a very family-oriented person, and he knew that taking her away from them over the holiday season would be a hard sell.

It was just after seven o'clock as Paul set out. He had packed all his gear the night before so he didn't have to go back home after work, and he expected to be at his destination by roughly nine thirty., which included the time it took to grab a bite to eat at the "You Don't Say..." cafe`. The little eatery was known locally as having the best cheeseburgers in the county, and also the owner was a friend of his. In fact the man had saved Paul's life once. When he was a child Paul had been carelessly running alongside an inground pool, when he was at his friend's house, and slipped and hit his head as he went into the water. The blow rendered him unconcious, and he surely would have drowned if not for his friends father, Mr. Burbank, the owner of the cafe`. So Paul liked to go in every now and then and say hello, and pay his respects.

After about ten minutes of driving, the diner came into view. The structure was set back from the road, and down a lightly sloping bank, off to the right as Paul approached. It was a medium sized building, with a gently sagging gable roof, that was originally meant as a family home, and was built back before Paul's own relatives had come into the area. It was clothed in a drab green paint, lathered over numerious other coats, and had a wrap-around porch that had smelled its fair share of evening cigars, and heard many fantastic stories. For Paul, coming here was like stepping through the front door of his own home, it was so familiar.

The ground floor was devoted to the restaurant. The main dining area encompassed what would have been a generous living room and a small den or study, had these not been converted decades ago, and the kitchen was in the back. It had been remodled several times over the years, but the most recent repair was still ten years past. The second and third floors were occupied by the owner and his wife, Mr. and Mrs. Burbank; the last of there children having left well before the kitchen had been revamped.

There were three other cars in the parking lot as Paul pulled in and cut his engine. The Burbank's station wagon, a green sedan that was unknown to him, and a local police cruiser. He didn't think much of the cruiser at the time, knowing that everyone stopped in here now and again, including the local cops. He thought idley that it had been a while since he'd last eatin' here, but that it would be good to see his friends again.

As he walked to the front entrance, thinking about his last visit, he saw Mrs. Burbank through the letters of the large window by the door, and was startled by the mournful expression she wore on her face. He waved uncertainly to her as he opened the door, but all she did was look at him with sadness, and blow her nose. Paul stepped into the cafe` and saw his old friend, Mr. Burbank, standing behind the lunch counter a few paces down from where his wife sat. He was talking quietly with Mr. Pierce, a deputy sherrif from the area, and he was waved over. They were the only four people in the restaurant.

As he walked towards them he couldn't help but be moved by the discomfort Mrs. Burbank was so obviously in, and said hello in a subdued voice and noticed for the first time that she had been crying. "Are you ok Ma'am?" Paul asked. Mrs. Burbank was a retired elementary school teacher that had tought Paul, as well as his brothers John, and Able, when they were all coming up through grade school. She was a kind and gentle women, and it saddened him to see her so distraught. Her response was a hushed "Hello Paul. I'm afraid I feel downright aweful. I just heard that poor Mr. Williams was found dead early this morning in his cabin up on the hill. His sister walked in on him lying on the floor in front of his fireplace. Its just terrible..."

At this last word she trailed off and a fresh flow of tears began to stream down her face. "Molly" Mr. Burbank said to his wife "Why don't you go up stairs and lie down. It has been quite a shock to us, hearing this news, and it looks like you could use some rest." After a brief pause "Maybe you're right, Earl. I think I will" she responded, as she got up, and said good bye. She patted Paul on the arm as she walked past, and pushed through the door at the end of the counter. The old wooden portal had a faded "Employee's Only" sign fixed just below a small round window that was clouded over from decades of use. Paul knew from experience that there was a staircase just past that door, on the left, that led up into the couple's living quarters. He had spent many after noons up there with the old man's kids playing with toy soldiers and jacks.

John Williams was an old recluse that spent most of his time in his cabin about an hour drive up the road, and back three or four miles into the woods. He had been born in the county hospital here, and had spent his entire life in and around town. He was mainly a subsistance hunter, but would occasionally fix a car or two around tax time, to make good with the local authorities, on his share of property that he owned. Other than that though no one ever really saw him much.

Several decades ago, while on one of his rare sojourns into civilization, Mr. Williams, through the grace of being in the right place at the right time, saved one of the Burbank children from a runaway car that had slipped its break while parked on Snake Hill. It had been a close call. The child, rendered deaf by a severe ear infection when she was just an infant, was yanked out of the cars path just in time to avoid catastrophe. This sudden occurance, and Mr. Williams quick thinking, naturally endeared him to the Burbank household, and they had thought fondly of him ever since. Mrs. Burbank would bake Mr. Williams a strawberry-rhubarb pie every year for his birthday, even though no one really knew how old he was.

"Good evening Mr. Burbank, and to you Mr. Pierce." Paul greeted the two men with a solomn tone. Although he added "It seems like I picked a hell of a day to visit, huh?" his sarcasm acted as a defense from having to feel what he was just told. Paul reached out and shook hands with both of the men, and each nodded in turn. "Interesting timing" Mr. Burbank said in reply, and continued "How have you been?"

"I'm ok" Paul returned. "Things have been busy around the office lately. I Havn't had much time to myself. Frankly though, I was doing alright until I heard the bad news. What happened to him?"

Mr. Pierce began to speak then "It really is a shame. What a horrific way to go... Maggie came into the station around nine this morning, in hysterics, saying that her brother was dead, and had been mutilated by some type of wild animal. She generally respected her brothers privacy, but liked to check in on him every now and again. She was near inconsolable, and it took us several long minutes to calm her down enough to get anything from her. What we did get was so disjointed on account of her nerves that we had a hard time understanding what she was saying.

"We ended up leaving her with a deputy, to keep her company, and me and a few of the boys raced up there to see what happened; I just got back from examining the scene about a half hour ago. When we got there, we found the inside of his cabin covored in blood and John's body lying in front of the fire place. His chest and abdomen had been torn open, and he was missing one of his hands. It was the most gruesome sight I'd ever seen. I came in to tell Earl, so he could keep an ear out for any talk about it the next few days. They're taking his body into the city now, to the coroners office, to see what they have to say."

At this point Mr. Pierce became abstarcted and his voice faded off. He shifted his gaze, passed the other two men and onto the far wall, and it looked like he was suddenly a million miles away. After this moment of reflection, the deputy turned back to Paul and continued "I've seen the after math of several bear attacks in my time, and even what happend to that poor little boy a few years back when the couger got ahold of him, but nothing like this. The poor man was totally disembowled. What was worse though, if you can believe something could be, was the look on the old man's face when we found him. It was twisted into the most grotesque mask of horror and fear you'd ever seen. It's no wonder Maggie reacted the way she did..."

The three men stood there in silence for a minute, as each considered the nature of life, and his own mortality. Mr. Burbank sighed, and the soon-to-be retired officer took one last sip off his coffee. "I've got to be getting home" Mr Pierce finally said, and stood up and made his way for the door. As he was leaving, the grey-haired cop advised the two other men to be careful until this whole mess got sorted out. "Something strange is going on here" he said, "and I can't quite put my finger on it. You gentlemen be on your guard in the mean time." With this, he left.

Paul turned to his old friend, still standing behind the counter "What do you make of it, Mr. Burbank? What else could hurt a man like that besides a bear or a big cat?" and after a slight hesitation "or another man...?" Shruggin his shoulders slightly, Mr. Burbank said he was unsure, but would soon feel better after the creature was captured. "A few of the towns people with dogs have been alerted, Mr Pierce told me, and began a search around the cabin earlier this afternoon. They'll find what ever it was that did that to John. There's alot of ground up there, sure, but some of those hounds can smell a mouse fart from half a mile." This last comment roused a small, and subdued chuckle from the two men...

After eating his cheeseburger, and a side of Mrs. Burbank's even more famous potato salad, Paul chatted cordially with Mr. Burbank for a few miutes, and then took his leave. He had spent a bit more time than he intended, talking over the news of the day, but didn't feel like he was to far behind schedule. "Take care of yourself, Paul, and say hello to your lady-friend for us" and as an after thought "and make sure to watch for deer. Nothin' will put a damper on your weekend like a misguided doe." This too earned a small bit of laughter from Paul and they bid there goodbyes.

Pulling out of the lot, back onto the road, the sickly story of poor Mr. Williams slowly faded from Paul's mind. As he drove, his thoughts turned back to Samantha and his impending visit, and his mood lightened substantially. It was little more than a two hour drive for him to get there so Paul turned on the radio and listened to music as he began to grind out the miles. The darkening Autumn twilight, and the cool, crisp air was the perfect weather for his journey.

Time passed as he slipped effortlessly along a freshly paved surface. The dense forest rose up imperiously around him as he motored further away from town, and after a short time the tall oaks had completely blocked any remaining sunshine. He could just make out the rising moon through the occasional break in the tree line, and he whistled along quietly as the song played on his car stereo.

When the music eventually faded, the station id'd itself, as was required every hour, and following this was a news broadcast. Paul wasn't really paying much attention to the announcer as he drove, but when he caught the name of John Williams, his ears perked up. "...A local man, John Williams, was found by his sister earlier today, dead, in his cabin off route 47. Early reports indicate that he was mauled by some wild animal, although what type couldn't be verified. Hid body had been examined at the scene by local sherrif's officers, and was then takin' to the coroners office for further investigation..."

It dawned on Paul just then, like a flash of lightning, that Mr. Williams cabin probably wasn't too far from where he was currently driving. He was so distracted by his pending reunion with Samantha that he hadn't even consider it. Route 47 was a main thourofare that ran in a roughly parrallel track to the road he was now on, just about ten miles over. Mr. Williams' cabin was in the woods somewhere of to his left, sandwhiched between the two roads. He thought, curiously, that he'd either just passed one of the dirt roads that cut over to William's place, or was just about too. With only his headlights to go by, he wasn't sure which was the case.

The music resumed after the news, and after a few minutes of its steady suggestion, Paul again forgot about the unlucky hermit. Being a man himself, and as full of ardor as a lover can be, his mind again wandered back to his amorous thought, and totally distracted, he soon passed from his own county, into the next. The road he was on became a bit more curvacious then, and the surface a bit more dimpled, but this had little effect on Paul's speed. Emboldened by years of travel up and down these very roads, and eager to reunite with his flame, he kept on the accelertor and continued to pound out the miles.

...And it was his certainty in his knowledge, and his anticipation that got him into trouble. Rolling along at a good clip, Paul rounded one of the more sharp turns, and lying there, smack in the middle of the road, was a good-sized tree that had fallen accross the entire width of asphalt. He didn't see the obstruction until the last possible moment, and owing to its length, there was no where to swerve even if he had more time to react. The impact sent a shock through the car, and through Paul, that was more than jarring, but he was wearing his seatbelt, thank god, and managed to avoid getting smashed into the steering wheel.

After taking a moment to collect himself, Paul got out of his car to examine the damage. The whole front-end was mangled. The radiator was pushed back into the enigine and was leaking its fluid all over the road. The two front tires were popped, and twisted in their wells, and the hubs they were attached too were undoubtedly destroyed. The headlights were broken and the hood was bent upwards at a sharp angle. He became furious.

"Damn it!" he cursed the unexpected turn of events. "God ever-loving Damnit!" There was no way the car could drive now and he was stuck in the middle of nowhere. Paul had passed the last hamlet about 30 miles back and the next sign of life wouldn't show itself for another 10 more. He was really in a jam.

The anger that swelled within him slowly ebbed away and was replaced by a resigned astonishment. Paul just couldn't believe that this was happeneding to him on this night of all nights. He knew Samantha would be dissapointed too, and he also knew that with there busy lives, he didn't even know the next time he'd be able to visit. "So much for our vacation..." he mumbled to himself.

Paul decided, between bouts of frustration, to grab his backpack from the trunk of his car and start walking. He knew from previous trips that, considering the length he had already traveled, there would be houses beginning somewhere along the road, a couple hours away by foot. Maybe he would even get lucky and meet a car on his way. He could wait and be patient of course, but with all of the nervous energy coursing through him, the thought of just sitting there seemed intolerable to him, so he started.

A quick glance at his watch showed the time to be about eight fourty five. The early-Autumn sun had long since set and the waxing moon, still partly screened by the tall oak trees, provided only scant illumination. If he had been planning on camping he would have had a flashlight, but a trip into the city required no such equipment.

This sudden turn of events would be enough to send anybody into a spin, and in this case Paul was no excepetion. With the sinking sense of dissapointment within him consuming his attention, and with a lack of any real light which to see by any how, its no wonder that Paul failed to notice the odd state of affairs that he had stumbled into. If he had looked any closer at the tree blocking the road, he would have noticed that the area at the base of its trunk, where it had benn detached from its newly formed stump, wasn't splintered in the manner one would expect if it had succumbed to a strong wind, but looked as if it had been chewed through by some enormous maw, and exhibited several deep slashing marks as if rended by a large animal.

But, it was not Paul's fate to notice these things...

After several minutes of walking, Paul's eyes adjusted a bit to the near blackness. The light of his car's dashboard faded from his eyes, and a bit of clarity returned to his mind. He thought, with a mixture of both dismay and of hope, that if he could cover roughly three miles an hour on foot, he could be at the edge of the city in about three hours, maybe four. From there he would have to find a gas station that was open and he could call Samantha and explain to her what happend. She was a kind person, he thought, and she might not be as upset at him as he first though, after he tells her what happened. He just might be able to salvage something of his time with her after all.

The more Paul walked, the more he became resigned to his fate. The sky was perfectly clear, and even through the veil of his bad mood, the stars above him looked quite marvelous. There was the occasional hoot of an owl as he walked, that would send a shiver up his spine (he had always reacted that way), and for the end of September the temperature was warm enough.

Out of nowhere a wave of uneasiness came over him as he began to have a very distinct feeling of being watched, although he couldn't quite place it. He didn't remember any houses being on this part of the road, and he hadn't seen another car for hours. He stopped for a moment, to silence the sound of his own footsteps, and listened with fierce attention. He also tried his best to peer into the darkness of the road ahead, and forest around him, but couldn't penetrate beyond the initial row of trees. He stood there for a moment listening and straining his eyes, until the feeling passed. The stress of the day is catching up to me, Paul thought, and I'm getting tired.

He started again with a quickened pace, but after only a few more steps there appeared out of the darkness ahead of him, just at the edge of his vision, a large but ambiguous lump in the middle of the road. There was no way to tell the actual size of the thing, in those condistions, Paul only realizing its presence because it showed itself as an even darker object surrounded by the night of the evening. The hair on the back of Paul's neck stood on end, and a wave of animal-fear rose inside him. The story of Mr. Williams flashed into his mind. "Disembowled" was the word that Mr. Pierce had used, and Paul's stomach did a summer sault as the word asserted itself.

Staring ahead at the unknown shape, Paul saw it begin to move forward towards him, at first with reserve, sizing him up, and then with a quickened pace. The creature slowly resolved itself into a massive, four legged animal, the size of an automobile, and as it got closer it began to growl, low and powerful. There was really nothing Paul could do as the monster broke into a run that swiftly closed the distance between them. He barely had enough time to turn before the creature jumped on his back and sank its teeth, the size of daggers, into the soft flesh of his neck. The crunching sound of the vertabrate was audible, and Paul, mercifully, lost conciousness almost immediatley...

What remained of Paul's body would be found the next morning by one of the deputies that had escorted Mr. William's remains, returning from the coroner's office. The description that the deputy would give would be similar to the one that Mr. Pierce had related to the two men at the diner. The wrecked car was found shortly after, and the daylight allowed the responding officers to examine more closely the tree that blocked the road. It was concluded, that it seemed, in fact, to have been dropped on purpose, for the markings on it's trunk wouldn't have been produced by wind, or by rot.

September 2022