Destiny Looms

“Listen carefully,” the voice had said, and now I was driving through the night, fearful of what I was to discover. The voice had been disguised of course, but the recommendation from my best friend, Alan, had me curious enough to want to experience all he had on offer.

Even so, it was with apprehension I’d followed the invitation to the letter. All mysterious, the sender unknown to me but assured of an unforgettable evening of depravity and in the theme of Halloween. Well, that could be anything, from trick or treats, carving pumpkins to horror and murder, dead bodies and ghosts.

The area, up in a rural mountain area, was not one I was used to and now, with my car broken down I was unsure of what to do. There was no phone reception up here, no cars on the road, and sitting here waiting for someone to hopefully show up was not an ideal situation. By his instructions I couldn’t be too far away.

So now, abandoned by technology, my car worthless in this situation, I trudged onwards, frozen, fearful of what peril could confront me and wondering if I should have accepted the invitation without notifying others of my whereabouts.

Lost, drenched, almost ready to give up, and then elation, almost euphoria as finally, through the darkened forest a light from what seems to be a cabin window materializes. I’d been wandering the rugged countryside, trying to follow his instructions, the only light available from the screen of my mobile phone.

I stagger as I trip over large tree roots. I can see no road which should have led here. It’s as though the cabin literally fell out of the sky and landed in a very tight area. No pathway leads to where I assume the front door is and as my boots squish through the mud I finally make out the entry.

As I’m about to knock, for some reason I stop short, an unusual sound breaking through the stillness of the forest, as though everything has changed, no noise, no wind, just silent drops of rain dropping from the canopy of the overhead trees.

I move carefully to the left, a lighted window throws out a dim light and peer forward. I stare, dumfounded, with disbelieving eyes, while the pelting rain distorts the indescribable images.

I shake my head as though that will clear it of the vision I have seen.

Shocked, I hoped my eyes had deceived me. This was perhaps an image displayed through some sort of pictures from a movie, superseded onto the glass pane somehow.

This could not happen, not this type of violence.

           It was Halloween after, trickery is always the master of ways at this time of year. Suddenly a scream and then another while the storm came back to life with a shriek of its own. Branches began to crack and thunder rolled around the mountain top. I thought speakers could perhaps be spaced out around the cabin, screaming out the wild weather.

No voices could be heard over the snarling storm, and I doubted they ever did. I ventured another look, horrified to see what was unfolding before me as the moon was barely visible.

His hands stabbed ferociously with razor sharp scissors, spraying blood splatters in every direction as he butchered those, imprisoned in their chairs. This was not a Halloween prank, the madness in that room was real.

There were eleven or maybe ten, the carnage too excessive, the butchery abhorrent, their lives now lost. For a moment I was but frozen in fear, my mind unable to comprehend what I was witnessing. It was only when I thought I saw what was left of Alan, his head laying askew on the blood stained floor, that I finally came out of my stupor.

A terrifying scream died in my throat, my mouth suddenly zippered shut.

I staggered, my knees buckling, as I told my mind to run. Paralyzed with fear, I could not move, my body immobilized by the scene before me.

Then as lightning flashed ... the room lit up and he glanced my way. Horrified, I watched his wild eyes bore into me, sizing me up as a potential threat, or more likely another quest.

I gasped. I knew him, I’d been forced to shake hands with him, the hand that now relaxed over the handle of the axe. He smiled insanely, licking blood from his fingertips. His face sprayed red, his hair dripping with blood, he stared at me, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Sickened, I turned, stumbling back the way I’d come to try and outrun this horror,

now knowing, he’d never had any intention of releasing them. He’d gathered them here, all of them were probably people I knew from the office, all of them had probably been invited to the party of the year, one never to be forgotten because there would be none coming.

I ran, slipping on decayed, rotting leaves, falling over tree stumps. My vision blinded as the rain showered down. Tripping, stumbling onwards, my hands shoot out,

squelching through sludge, reminding me of the memories of their blood.

Lunging for a branch, my desperate fingers reach out like talons to take hold,

knowing that only I can save myself, can hopefully outsmart this monster. I righten myself as I steal quickly through the night. Edging closer to safety, knowing the road is attainable.

           But what of it? There had been no traffic, no lights, no other houses I’d seen along the drive. Hysteria bubbles up in my throat, I try to push it back. My car is useless, but the highway still holds hope. I glanced about trying to see if there is anywhere I could possibly hide.

Peering quickly over my shoulder, no one can be seen, my safety imminent for the moment. Skidding, I lurch forward, almost topple over as his web of lies consumes me. From that phone call, his obvious voice change, his directions and secrecy to the invitation all now obvious.

I’d outsmarted him though; I’d managed to get away. How could someone who had seemed so normal but capable of what he’d done and how did he possibly think he could get away with it all.

I’d get to the authorities, let them know of the others, the ones dead in their chairs … because of him. I’d have to find my way back, through the woodland as the road would not be safe from him and he obviously knew the area well which is why he chose it.

Finally, I’m at the edge of the roadway.

In an uncontrollable hysteria I dare to laugh with relief, but it dies in my throat as the axe whistles through the air, severing my spine to seal my destiny. I lay there in the dirt, the fallen crush leaves and rot and blink at the rain. Then suddenly he looms before me, he smiles, kicks me over to my left. I feel no pain, nothing. I can’t feel his boot in my side nor the pain when he wrenches the axe free from my neck. I can’t even feel blood which must be oozing from me, I feel nothing except the rain on my face and watch wide eyed, knowing what is to come.

He drags me back the way we came, through the crumpled forest floor, amongst the stones, tree stumps and roots until finally we are back at the cabin. He strains somewhat as he pulls me up in one quick jerk and I’m laying on the floor in the cabin with the others.

‘Why?’ I manage.

‘Why not,’ he laughs manically.

From the corner of my eye I see movement and hope soars through me. Someone is still alive, will be able to save me. Perhaps it’s the police, they’ve stumbled across my car, searched for me and found this place of horror.

He senses movement too and looks that way.

‘Here boy, come on,’ he says.

He has a son! He brought a child here. He is more than a monster, he is a depravity, more than evil, more than a monster, an abomination to mankind, how could a child’s mind manage to function through all this.

But I was wrong.

‘Here boy,’ he said, chopping off an arm and throwing it to the dog. Don’t eat it all at once,’ he laughed.

Not having any pain was more torturous than receiving it as there was no reprieve from the horror only a clear mind and the hope that death would come quickly but until then the seconds became hour and hours days before I finally succumbed to what could only be described as utter bliss and thankfulness.