In the Lee of Mountains

A Story by Alan B.

A man's evening stroll becomes a nightmare

A small town is quiet, and a town in mountain country is often affected by a silence resonating so deeply that it recalls a time when humanity was only a gestating thought in the mind of the universe. The ever-present mists spread themselves over the old evergreens in the distance like thick spider webs, making them appear as ghostly spires of some fantastical ancient castle. To walk through wooded paths with black night and clear stars above was not a lonely exercise for one of my disposition. My thoughts were always enough for company. It was on such a night that I found myself on a familiar path that led deep into the forest. The cloying scent of pine mixed with earth and wild flowers in bloom, creating an odor that was strong but very pleasing. I could spy the thousands of stars when I looked up and the branches parted in the sleepy wind. At this hour a simple stroll became something nearly magical instead of only enjoyable.

To most people the forest is a frightening place after dark, full of unspeakable horrors. We are all coldly scientific as long as the light still shines. Yet my opinion was that there is nothing apart from the dark that we do not project into it. My fear was left behind in childhood, as was my belief in the supernatural. I rounded a bend a proceeded down the stretch where the trees were thickest. Here the branches reached out and sometimes touched you softly. Often on my walks I heard animals scurrying or screeching as they went about their night business, but I suddenly heard something unfamiliar--it seemed almost like the soft murmuring of a group a people. I stood for a moment and listened. At first it seemed to have been my imagination, then I heard a clear phrase whispered somewhere to my right carried by the wind: “He is here.” I listened longer but the murmuring receded. The trees were black in the direction it had come from. How could anyone see in that?

As far as I knew there were no houses or cabins anywhere built outside of town; and I had gone exploring in the forest extensively before, seeing no sign of any dwelling. Though I had some trepidation, my curiosity was piqued and I turned on the small flashlight I always brought along, heading in towards the fading sounds. The terrain at first was rougher than the path but not unmanageable. I decided to follow for perhaps one hundred yards then turn back, as the path would still be in sight. Continuing on, the trees began to get thicker and the ground started to slant down noticeably. My curiosity began to wane as navigation became harder until I heard a laugh, shrill and loud, that reverberated off the trees and stopped me cold. It sounded feminine but there was nothing lovely about it. I imagined that the same harsh cackling could be heard in the halls of asylums. Immediately, the danger of this little detour leaped to mind. Who the hell was I following?

Another laugh then another joined the woman’s and soon it was a chorus of demon harpies. I saw an orange light farther down where the floor fell away, faint at first then getting brighter and radiating heat, illumining what looked like a giant hole surrounded by walls of black, sulfurous rock. The laughter was coming from there, swelling deeper and rumbling the very ground now. I turned and ran gripping tree trunks and hauling myself forward, my mind insane with fear. Shadows moved with predatory purpose above me as the light became brighter still, huge things with what looked like wings darting in and out of the darkness. Claws or hands grabbed at my back and I stumbled; a withered voice shrieked in my ear, “You will stay!” My memory can recall little after that. I was found on the path in the morning by some hikers, bloodied and unconscious. There were, I later found out, many that have disappeared in these woods. The memories are hard to block out even with my therapist’s help. And the voices return in my dreams. Lately they are telling me to do things; horrible, unimaginable things.

I just got a new job: trail guide for hikers. Today I take my first group out. I only hope there are enough of them.