Cult in the Valley

Karen woke abruptly to the piercing sound of her alarm clock radio.

She was at a crossroads in the youthful stages of her young adult life.

Getting out of bed was becoming a chore, post break up from her boyfriend of two years; she was 19 years old with the “whole world ahead of you,” her father would regularly quote.

Karen wanted so much to be a journalist, a writer, but her inspiration had faded along with her health.

Karen gradually dragged her tired, weak underweight body up to gaze at herself in the mirror.

Staring back was a shadow of her former self as she saw it. She pulled at her mattered short blonde hair, before attempting to cover up any facial flaws with foundation, enhancing her crystal blue eyes with eyeshadow and lash extensions.

“Morning Mum,” said Karen as she strolled into the newly renovated kitchen.

“Good morning my darling. You’re up early,” responded Carol.

Carol had been Karen’s stepmother since she was 3 years old, 2 years after her birth mother died of breast cancer. She was 50 years old, slim, medium height with brown wavey hair and green eyes. Karen and Carol had held a deep mother, daughter bond since they first met.

“Remember what dad was saying at your 50^th, about how he thinks I should go and stay at the farm for a bit. Get my mojo back?” Asked Karen.

 “Yes, he’s always saying that. You don’t want to go and stay in that dirty cabin on your own,” replied Carol.

“I didn’t used too, but I think he’s right. I need to find my mojo,” responded Karen.

“You need to eat! That’s what you need. Now here’s some scrambled eggs on toast,” replied Carol.

Karen finished all bar a few pieces of crust. “I’ve decided to leave early tomorrow morning. I think it will help inspire me to study hard and write without all the distractions. The valley is such a beautiful place even though the cabin is a little run down, and I will have to use an outdoor toilet. It will be good for me to rough it for a month, before I start the new semester,” said Karen.

“You know I’ll support you no matter what, plus you can always come home. It’s not like you’re stuck there.”

Karen spent the afternoon packing into the evening. For the first time in a long time, she felt a sense of freedom which was making her happy.

She made a quick check list, before falling asleep on her bed.

She then began to dream; Karen was 7 years old travelling in a car with her father past rundown shacks on the outskirts of Kangaroo valley.

Suddenly the car broke down, her father jumped out of the before ambling up to a dilapidated shack, disappearing inside. Karen was frightened. She is beginning to panic as it quickly becomes dark. She is on her own. BASH! BANG! There’s someone or something pounding on the roof.

Karen woke up, sweating profusely from the nightmare. It was 3.35am. She couldn’t get back to sleep, so she reluctantly decided to pack her car and begin the 5-hour drive to kangaroo valley.

The fuel warning light in her Volkswagen golf appeared for the second time prompting Karen to stop off at service station to fill up, get some breakfast and a coffee.

It was 6.15am. Karen yawned loudly as she stood half asleep watching the petrol bowser tick over, while the early morning sun beams relieved her of the chilly morning air.

She replaced the petrol leaver before reaching into the front console to retrieve her purse and sunglasses.

Karen’s heart almost exited through her chest when she shut her car door.

“Excuse me?” said a tall, dishevelled middle aged man in dirty overalls, who was clearly suffering from extreme leprosy.

“You scared the life out of me!” Responded Karen.

“I get that a lot. Can you tell me the best way to Bowral?” Asked the man with a muffled, raspy voice.

“Sure, you can go one of two ways, but I would recommend turning off at Bega then go through Kangaroo valley,” replied Karen.

“Kangaroo valley sounds like a nice place,” responded the man.

“Yes, it is. That’s where I am headed,” replied Karen.

After saying, “take care,” to the man, Karen strolled into the shop before a bad feeling swept over her, forcing her to glance through the shop window. She did a double take confused about where that man had gone. There was no one in sight. Just her parked car by the bowser.

Karen quickly forgot about her strange experience then continued the drive, sipping her coffee as she listened to an Enya CD.

She couldn’t wait to get her mojo back.

Once she had turned off at Bega, it wasn’t long before she descended the winding S bends with a breathtaking view, overlooking the gorgeous Kangaroo valley.

Karen found it hard to keep her eyes on the road as she saw glimpses of the valley, through the gum trees.

In no time she was in the heart of the tiny town. It had been 6 years since Karen and her family had visited the farm.

Memories came flooding back, especially how good the local ice-cream store was. She remembered swinging on the tire into the river, riding horses and motor bikes.

The farm was located 15 minutes’ drive from the town centre. It was in a secluded area that backed up against the sloping valley cliff, looking west towards the river.

Karen pulled into the 10-acre property up a short drive towards the vintage style, log cabin that was built in 1911.

The lawn and gardens were in desperate need of landscaping. overgrown weeds and grass had all but taken over.

Karen emptied her car before checking her jeans for the keys to the cabin.

They weren’t there, so she checked her purse. “Where the hell are they. They must be here somewhere,” she said, as she began checking all her bags. “I can’t believe this. I must have left them at home,” said Karen as she looked at her phone.

“Great! No reception,” She complained.

Karen huffed in defeat as she turned to lean against the car. Her peripheral vision caught a sudden movement, darting her eyes towards the log cabin, “No way,” said Karen as she spotted the door, slightly ajar.

A chilly gust of wind attempted a new hair style; adding to the flood of adrenalin, preparing her to fight or flight. “Hell no!” She said as she hastily opened her car door.

As a young girl, Karen had always been a little spooked by the cabin. knowing that it was unlocked, unsettled her with memories of seeing ghostly like figures.

Her father Neil called it her, ‘Imagination.’

Karen began to slowly drive out of the property, before glancing into her rear-view mirror at the cabin, catching a glimpse of a pale face in the dirty window near the front door.

She slammed on the breaks before turning around to find that there was no one at the window. She became unsettled to the point of panic, breaking out into an anxious sweat.

Karen accelerated well beyond the speed limit towards the town. She pulled up outside the pub before jogging inside.

“There’s no bloody reception here? Do you have a pay phone?” Asked a flustered Karen to the young female bar tender. “Sure do. It’s right over there. Are you alright?” Asked the bar tender. “No. I need to call my dad about a problem at our farm.”

Karen marched over to the old red payphone before dialling her father’s phone number with a Shakey hand.

“Dad, It’s me. The cabin is open. It was unlocked,” said a trembling Karen.

“Don’t worry love. It was probably Keith. I get him to check up on the property when he can. I’ll give him a buzz to see when he was last there,” replied Neil.

“I saw someone in the window when I was driving back out of the property,” responded Karen. “You’re not back on that ecstasy, are you? You know that stuff eats holes in your brain,” replied Neil.

“Why don’t you ever believe me dad. You always believe Libby over me. I’ve never lied to you,” responded Karen. “What about that ecstasy drug that you were taking and the cigarettes you were hiding. What do you call that?” Asked Neil.

“I messed up once. I know I am not the golden child but please, you must start believing me,” replied Karen.

“You know I love you. I will call Keith now. Call me back in 10,” said Neil.

Karen strolled over to the empty bar, “why is no one here?” Asked Karen to the young bar tender. The freckly faced, ginger haired woman replied, “they’ll be a few locals in about an hour, when its happy hour.”

Neil finally got in touch with Keith, “G’day mate, have you been over to check the farm out recently?”

Keith replied, “No mate. I relocated to WA (Western Australia) over a year ago to run a cattle farm. Sorry Pal I should have told you. It all happened so quickly,” replied Keith.

“No worries, Keith. Who did you sell your farm too?” Asked Neil.

“A very strange family. Looked like they were out of deliverance, but they paid overs, so money talks I guess.” Replied Keith.

“Great, that’s good for you Keith. Anyway, take care buddy.” Responded a nervous Neil.

He then hung up the phone and within seconds, Karen called back.

“Hi sweetheart, Keith told me that he checked on the property only yesterday. He wasn’t 100% sure that he locked the door,” said Neil.

“Thanks dad, that eases my mind a little,” replied Karen.

Karen strolled back to the bar breathing a sigh of relief. “Would you like a beer or a wine?” Asked Jenny.

“No thanks. I’ve come here for a couple of weeks to clear my head. Not cloud it,” replied Karen.

With that comment she was on her way back outside to her car before picking up a salad sandwich from the local Cafe.

Karen started to feel good again as she drove back to the property. The door was closed when she arrived back to the cottage. She quickly jumped out of her car before dashing to the front door, trying to open it, but it was locked.

Karen was starting to doubt herself, “I think I am losing my mind,” she said. ‘What am I going to do now? I’ll have to ask Keith for the spare key,’ she thought.

Karen decided to walk around one kilometre, to where Keith’s farm was.

The farm was well secluded. The dirt road trickled into a small path that led though some scrub onto the property. Karen gazed up a gentle slope towards a large white vintage style homestead.

There were no animals on the property which Karen found strange as when she was 12, Neil used to borrow some of Keith’s horses, and he used to supply fresh milk from his cattle.

There was a large stack of chopped up wood, a potential bonfire in the making.

The lawns and house looked neglected, in fact it looked as though no one was living there at all.

There were no vehicles or farming equipment, and the curtains were all drawn. Karen thought that her father had spoken to Keith, so she decided to march up the front door.

As she got closer to the house, she was overcome by a horrible stench. Karen pinched her nose for relief before knocking three times. No one answered so she knocked again. Still no answer. Karen couldn’t stand the smell any longer, so she took off back down the driveway. She looked back over her shoulder to see the curtains move slightly as if someone was watching from behind.

Karen arrived back to the farm as the sun was about to set behind the valley. She felt a sense of uneasiness which made her think about returning home.

Suddenly, Karen looked at her car in horror. All four tyres had been slashed. She began to sob as she sat in her car with her head on the steering wheel. She looked up to see the cottage door was ajar. “This truly can’t be happening,” Karen said as she slowly stepped out of the car.

Karen opened the boot of her car before picking up a pinch bar from next to the spare tyre. “If there’s anyone in there, you’d better come out now or I will be forced to use this bar on you!” said Karen in a convincing tone.

Karen kept her cool, waiting for a couple of minutes without any response. “Right, I am coming in!”

Karen approached the door with caution, pinch bar ready to Strike, when an extremely deformed boy appeared in old filthy shorts and t-shirt carrying a butcher’s knife.

The boy was hunched over, breathing impaired by narrow airways. “Hey there, I can help you,” offered a concerned Karen. The boy then charged at Karen in a psychotic rage, knife in the air. Karen simply moved out of the way as the boy fell to the ground before scampering down the drive, eventually disappearing out of sight.

Karen’s adrenaline was pumping. Fear had turned into fury as she charged fearlessly into the cabin holding the pinch bar, “Show yourself! If there is anyone still here, show yourself now.”

Karen locked the front door as twilight faded into darkness. She lit the gas lantern which sat on the coffee table. The dim, flickering flame light revealed outdated rustic décor, the walls and ceiling were blanketed in cobwebs.

Karen cautiously making her way around into both bedrooms, the bathroom, and the kitchen. There was one place left to check. The wine cellar. She had previously avoided the wine cellar after seeing the ghost of woman when she was seven years old. Karen approached the cellar trap door at the end of the hall. She breathed a sigh of relief once she saw the lock was in place.

Karen swiftly made her way to the telephone in the kitchen. She picked up the receiver. There was no dial tone. “God damn it!” She yelled while spotting the phone wires ripped out of the wall.

The musty smell of mould prompted Karen to open the kitchen window.

A neighbouring fire cast an eerie glow above the tree line, catching Karen’s eye before the smell of burning wood mixed with roasting flesh caused Karen to slam the window shut.

Karen darted around to each window, ensuring they were locked. She was doing her best to avoid a panic attack. Her chest became tight as her body began to tremble. Suddenly she became dizzy and faint before falling to the floorboards.

Karen came too. The air was cold on her clammy skin. Smoke was thick in the air. Karen coughed as she lifted herself up. The front door was open. She sprinted to the kitchen draw, grabbing a carving knife before dashing out of the cabin.

She jogged towards the tree line desperate to catch a glimpse of what was happening on the Keith’s property.

Karen pushed through the gaps in the trees towards the glowing flames from an enormous bonfire that burned intensely.

Suddenly, she stumbled down a steep bank, headlong into a narrow, shallow creek. Her hand was stuck between two branches as she tried to lift herself out the water, desperately trying to detach herself.

These were not Branches. They were human ribs.

Karen very quickly realised she was standing amongst multiple human skeletons.

She fell towards the steep bank on the opposite side trying her hardest not scream as she gripped tree roots and loose rocks, pulling herself up the bank.

Once she made it to the top, she witnessed a ritual taking place on Keith’s property.

Thirteen men, women and children dressed in black cloaks on their knees with their heads down at the base of the fire.

A Bony hand gripped onto Karen’s ankle as she lay vulnerably on the edge of the bank, “AHHH!” She yelled, capturing the attention of the people in black cloaks.

Karen jerked her leg, releasing herself from its grasp. She sprung back across the creek before scampering with urgency up the muddy bank.

She didn’t look back to see if anyone was chasing as torch lights began to flicker amongst the trees.

Karen had never run so fast as she sprinted for her life. She was in two minds on whether to try to escape in the car or bunker down in the cabin.

Once she arrived at the front door, she could see torch lights approaching the property through the shrub.

It was too late to run. She locked the door before turning off the lantern, dashing hastily over to the window at the front of the house.

The torch lights had disappeared, leaving only the eerie glow from the bonfire.

An intensely frightening wait for morning began. 8 hours till the sun would rise. Karen shifted a dining chair to within 5 feet of the front door. She placed a knife along with the pinch bar on the floor next to the chair before taking a blanket from the linen press.

Karen set herself down on the chair before covering up with the woollen blanket as the bitterly cold air intensified.

One hour had passed, Karen began to feel drowsy, heavy eyed as the adrenaline wore off. A deathly silence with darkness bought on fatigue.  

Suddenly - Two hard ‘THUDS’ at the door snapped Karen awake, anxiety pumping adrenaline back through her veins.

A man’s voice spoke from outside, “Karen? Its Keith here. Is everything ok?” Karen jumped to her feet, standing tall in relief. She opened the door, then within an instant, she was forcefully ripped outside into the darkness, never to be seen again.