Shadows in the Hills

“Are you sure about this?”

It was a cold winter, the harshest since 2009. I glanced up at the stars and embraced the wind that hit me, brushing against my fingertips. Smiling at the silence, I danced in the moonlight, moving with staggered steps—drunker than yesterday and as blind as a bat, navigating through the woodlands.

“Did you read the sign? It said Mandeville, as in the devil’s cemetery.” Jonathan, a close friend of mine, walked behind me. His voice was so full of discomfort and I swear, for someone who wasn’t book smart, he always had a way of turning everything into something tedious.

I stumbled over a dip in the ground, “You’re thinking too hard. The Mandeville family ran this place, but I guess you can say they had a lot of secrets.” I watched my feet gather, one in front of the other before whispering something under my breath, “Allay Anna.” I turned around, “Did you know that they used to put bells on dead people?” I stare as his eyes veered up. Hesitating to answer, he seemed more nervous than before, making an O shape with his mouth. But before he could say anything, I laughed, flinging open the lighter. “It was basically because burying someone alive was common a long time ago. I mean, imagine working, it’s nighttime, and you’re alone. The air is suffocating. The ground is sinking. And the thing is, if you’d scream, no one would hear you; all the things you can do out here.”

Really, Avery, are you being serious right now?”

“What, I wasn’t the one who forced you out here!” I elucidated, “But since you’re here, I might as well tell you about our tradition.”

“If it’s something that I don’t want to hear, knowing you, I’ll just turn around now and head back to the car.” He fussed, crossing his arms.

I rotated frontward, counting the steps in my head, more amused with the situation than he’d think. And with a twinkle in my eyes looming with the orange flame from the lighter, I decided not to leave him hanging anymore. “You can’t get to the car without me. Only I know the way back, and walking these woods would be a maze, especially at night.” I taunted, “You’d never find your way back, not alive at least.” I bit my lip, drawing blood before looking over my shoulder. He had his phone in his hand and I could solely guess what was going through his mind, but it was his movements that spoke to me. Take it from him! The voices inside came alive as I rolled my eyes and twisted around. I snatched the phone from his hands, “Calm down, I was just messing with you, God, why are you such a baby!” 

“It’s not funny, Avery!” His voice resonated through the vacant night, but bounced against the trees. I pivoted on my toes, tucking his phone in my shirt.

 “Tell me, why did you agree to come out here anyway?” I sighed, reconsidering this decision.

“I heard that there would be more of us out here. That we were doing some kind of camping thing for Halloween, that traditional thing you were talking about.” I took another step and somewhere in the distance, maybe left of us, echoing in the breeze, a branch snapped.

I skimmed the area. “There will be others.”

We reached the cemetery, home to the tall white crosses and overgrown grass. There was a building just to the right of us, old and nearly collapsed. The air was dense and sickly sweet while the ground sunk in some places. There was an aroma that made my nose twitch, and before I could strike the first conversation, Jonathan hissed something from the far side of me.

“Where is everyone?” Right when I turned to look at him, he continued, sounding more upset, “You said they would be here, Avery what kind of game is this!” He brushed his fingers through his light-colored curls, taking another second to calm his breathing. Then, he marched towards me, “Give me my phone so I can call someone.” The tension showed as his shoulders raised and his face changed, his eyes turning a darker shade of brown, almost obscure; empty from life. Watching him become so pale, shaken up with regret, almost made me feel sorry for him.

“I want to show you something else.” I announced, and before he could say something that would change my mind, I urged him to follow. I led him to a small watering hole where years have come and gone, but nothing about it changed. I dropped to my knees. “When I was a kid, my friends and I would come out here around Halloween and tell each other scary stories. My stories were always the scariest, but they were also true.” I pulled out my knife and took in a long inhalation. “This water never dried out. Not once, and I said that it was because the spirits that live here, that was their only way to drink—maybe even cleanse themselves of their mistakes.” I held up a finger to stop him from interrupting me. “Give me your hand.” He dithered, allowing a fog of smoke to leave his mouth, and I could tell he swallowed his courage. I could tell he was no longer himself: the kid who knew all the tricks and cheats, to every game; an escape artist is how I’d describe him, but there was no way he was escaping this.

“Avery, we—” His words were broken up and his eyes widened. He watched me slit my palm without as much of a flinch, or signs of any pain. Afterwards, I reached out for his hand, keeping my eyes on him. When I could feel the softness of his fingers brush mine, I pulled them in and turned them upwards, moving the knife to the center of his palm. I listened to him gasp as blood fell from his hand into the water under us.

“They have every right to live as much as we do. And when you’ve seen what I’ve seen, you’d agree.” Everything from before ambushed me, life as a child came running back. It was strenuous, in ways that I couldn’t describe. It was malediction, and it tortured me to the core. “Keep your eyes on me.” I started, “Don’t look away, no matter what you hear, or what you think you see. Keep your eyes on me.”

“Avery, what is going on? What did you drag me into?”

“When bad things happen, we try to push them out by forgetting that they ever happened, but every life taken, I remembered through a rhyme I made. It goes like this: Stare at me with those bright eyes, the ones that speech the wicked lies, taunting, haunting, fleeting, weeping, smile once more another day. I’ve seen very, I’ve seen nice but you my child are full of eerie, wanting, wearing, damning, slamming, asking for the breath they take. Come here fast the waters clear, cold and windy, dry those tears; He will find you, he will kill, and you’ll go missing in the hills.” The ringing of a bell chimed. Second later the clouds moved, hiding the moon, but that was nothing more than bad timing, I’d hope.

I sat straight up, looking around. “Don’t let go of my hands.”

“Avery?” He whispered. “What did you do… the water, look at the water?” I listened to him mumble, too afraid to say anything aloud. His eyes swelled with redness, fingers trembling in my hand. When I looked at the water, our blood had been scoured out, leaving only the murky water. I noticed Jonathan was trying to pull away, and that only made me grip him tighter.

“Do not let go!” I decreed, but this time it was me trying to convince myself that this wasn’t real. However, it was, and this tradition happened every year. “When I was a kid, my dad owned this place. I can never forget the days when he’d bring me with him, we’d walk for miles until we had made in on top of the hill. One day he thought it would be fun to stalk an old girlfriend of his and he used me to get her into the car—all the girls he dragged up here, screaming and fighting to live.” I paused, “He’d tie bells to them, and treat them like animals.” I cried, “And when he was done, he’d look at me with me with those bright blue eyes and tell me to wipe the tears; smile baby girl, he’d say.” I closed, inhaling long. Watching the clouds move, I could feel Jonathan’s finger jerk back, but I was so focused on the moonlight shining on us; I jumped when he spoke. 

“How can I help you?” He questioned.

“We have to survive the night, and the only way we can do that is by you listening to everything I tell you.” I insisted. He nodded, and when I thought we were on the same page, he pulled his hands out of mine and shoved me to my back. Shock covered my face as he pinned me down, reaching one hand under my shirt before hauling out his phone.

“You lie to me, cut my wrist and now you stage some story—yeah, I bet that so-called bell is Bella playing along with this bull.” I brushed my clothes off while he unlocked his phone, swiping his finger against the screen. “You might have tricked the others, but you can’t fool me.” I sensed the nervousness in his words. He might’ve wanted to seem untouched by the situation, but I could tell he was just as scared as I was.

“Yeah, well, if this is staged, explain the water.” I detained a bit of frustration in my tongue. The wind surpassed us, rustling with a whistle. And then there was another snap in the distance, followed by the groaning of wood. The sound of the bell ringing surfaced again, this time louder. Jonathan, typing something into his phone, smacked it a couple times before he sighed angrily.

 Shaking his head, he stood up and screamed out, “This isn’t funny guys!” He slid his finger up and turned on the flashlight.

 “No!” I pushed him down, but I couldn’t stop him from seeing the hanging body; a woman, a ghostly shade. Her arms dangled to her side and her head fell forward. The bell was latched to her ankle while everything else seemed to fade behind grim dirt.

I heard Jonathan gag. “This is sick.”

I let him have a moment to catch his breath. “Don’t move.” I ran to grab his arm, pulling him close. “She’s not the only one out here.” It didn’t take long for the suffocating air to influence both of our breathing. This was going to be a long night.