The Storm Watchers

An island off the coast of New England is caught in a violent thunder storm and four prisoners are breaking every will they have to escape. They may be out, but they are far from being alone and free.

THE STORM WATCHERS”

By,

Bradford Corvi

 

 

 

 

 All I knew was that I was never turning back. I couldn’t bear another night of screaming while I lay there recklessly in my cell bed. It seemed all the torturing took place after the sun faded into the evening. The Watchers delved in pleasure over inflicting pain on the souls of the condemned, or so I’ve been told.

            I must admit I had never seen such mysterious beings but the stories I heard were deeply grave. The rumors had it as they never spoke a word, just used their hands and objects to bestow their words. For someone who never said a word, they sure spoke of great volume inside the prison. Just imagining their shadowy cloaks and no face to identify was enough to shatter my spirit and submit to the hopeless within.

            I’m not saying I’m better�"God knows my sinister ways had brought me to this prison, this hell of barbwire and concrete, this island of despair, and I pledged to the deity I’d never steal again. I swore my life of thievery was behind me if I could just step foot off the godforsaken island.

            I had never seen a storm so violent in all my life. It was a mid-afternoon and the sky was as black as midnight. A clash of lightning carved the sky with a symphony of thunder. The rain was thick and cruel as it came to down like bullets. I knew we had to press forward.

            There were four of us. Eddie Jones, a cellmate of mine and his buddies Rick and the old man, Patches, due to losing his eye in a knife fight. He lost an eye while the other lost a throat.

            “Fair trade,” the old man always said.

            The day was speeding, but I could still remember the chaos of the morning. During the riots, I smashed my way through the guard’s office and ripped apart the room till I found the gate keys. They were lying under a pile of old, dirty magazines and I quickly placed them into my pocket. We sank into the crowd and burst through the gates and into the storm. The thunder was brewing, but we didn’t care. Why would we? I know we were few, but the rest showed no remorse for their wicked ways. The prison was a monument of past evils.

            The rain showed no mercy and the lightning flashed over the island like the spectacle of a bomb. It was at that moment I saw hell come to paradise. Through the bombardment of the storm, I could hear the menacing barks of German Shepherds hunting for our blood.

            “It’s not much further.” Rick pointed out. “The boats will take us to the shores of Provincetown.”

            I had long misses the days of New England summers and desired nothing more than to start fresh, though I knew my demons would be hard to wrestle away. I began to wonder if the others saw the same in themselves. I never got around asking. All I knew was repent was enough to motivate a being. I saw it firsthand.

            The lightning lit up and revealed the canine beasts with their mouths foaming and throats growling, I swore I’d be dead at the paws of the hell hounds. We circled together as the two dogs taunted us in the rain. It seemed like an eternity until the two snapped. They lashed out at the old man�"grasping their teeth into his elderly flesh. It was amazing the old man did not scream.

            Patches was a tough old vet, who’s days of riding with the Hells Angeles proved the roughness of his mettle. The old man growled and bit his own lip and tried to sustain him as the shepherds crunched into his bones.  We all pounced down�"punching and gauging into the dog’s eyes and ears. The old man was now left alone, but we were the new target.

            Eddie and I were knocked on our backs as the dogs pressed their paws on our hearts. They looked more mutated than ever, like they could sit by the throne of Hades himself. I looked straight in their eyes and saw they were merciless and cold. I felt trapped. For a moment I wanted to cry over in fear that my face would now be in pieces.

            To my surprise, Rick clobbered the Shepherd to death with a rock and I felt an instant sigh of relief. Eddie tackled the second to the ground and dug in deep with his fingers. Through every drop of sweat and squeezed every blink of life out of the dog as its eyes faded to black.

            The rain was drifting apart, but the lightning was still in effect. As we stood to catch our breath, we turned to notice the old man lying by a dead Oak Tree�"collapsed in his own blood.

            “Patches!” I called out. “My God! Can you stand?”

            “What do you think?” The old man said as he clenched his teeth and fists. “D****t Don, I’m not going to make it.”

            “You’re the only one that knows the safe houses in P-Town. Don’t you die on us.” Eddie angrily said.

            “You think I have a choice in that now? The men who run this place…it’s like they’re always watching.” The old man gasped out a splash of blood and shut his eyes as his body soon became a corpse.

            Our sorrow was with him, but there was no time to mourn. The three of us treaded further into the woods as shotgun shells rattled into the trees.

            “They’re getting close!” Eddie shouted under the rumbling thunder.

            As if the prison was not grueling enough�"the island beyond the gates was far from being paradise. To our surprise, we stood before a long, narrow road and the sight was intense for the weak of heart. There were fifteen bodies, old and fresh who carelessly lay among the dirt. The odor was ripe with death and their faces were frozen helplessly in their last dying minute.

            “What the hell happened here?” Rick wondered.

            “They must’ve all tried to escape.” Eddie thought.

            Suddenly the pieces were coming together. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but reflecting back, the breakthrough of the prison did seem quite easy�"too easy to be exact. My mind thought of the worst, as it always did but this one made my stomach churn. Could the Watchers have set up a riot, just to give cellmates the idea of escaping?

            It was a lot to ponder but Rick and Eddie would hear none of it.

            “Don? Have you even seen these Watchers? None of us have. They’re just something the guards mad up to scare us. All they are, are a few nut jobs who dress in cheap costumes and have fun with us. Sure they have a badge and a gun, but deep down, they’re no more twisted than we are.” Eddie assured.

            “You can actually say that with confidence?” I replied.

            Eddie kept silent and stared at me like he was ready to swing his fist, but resisted the urge. It seemed the mere idea of such people would drive a man to his breaking point, or at least the edge of it. Maybe Eddie was right. Even I thought the guards weren’t smart enough to pull off such a delirious concept.

            “Hey I think I see the coast line.” Rick noticed.

            “There’s the boat!” I cried out and suddenly my heartfelt lighter.

            I didn’t know exactly what happened to these men lying dead, but I did know I wasn’t sticking around to find out. With the thunder raging above the trees, we wasted no time in dashing for the shore.

            I was driven and eager to ride the waves home and embrace the new life ahead. The closer we arrived at the shore; I suddenly felt a hard thump in my balance. My vision had blurred and my feet fumbled into the soil. The branches of the fallen trees had sent me to fall at my own mercy.

            I quickly raised my head from the mud and saw Rick and Eddie starting the boat. The called out my name and I was more than beside myself. I had literally sunk into my own nightmare. I wanted to rise up and run but I simply couldn’t.  I had this dream before, where my body had frozen in motion and my breath seemed to suffocate on its own.

            Instead I rolled over on my back and saw the utmost figure of all my terrors. As I now lied before the shadowy men, I realized the Watchers were real indeed, and I would have believed anything at that moment in time. I could not see their eyes, for their hoods were long, but I knew they were staring down at me. They were shrouded in black, much like in the stories. In the past as a thief I could escape any demise, but for now, all I could think of was how do I get out of this one?

Author's Note

For your enjoyment.

Reviews

[SoulOblivion]

Good Story. Hope this is the start of a series. My only complaint is that there is a lot of grammatical errors.