The Stone Man

and Other Weird Tales

Micah Castle

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Copyright © 2016, 2018 by Micah Castle. All rights reserved.

This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Printed in the United States of America

ISBN: 9781520303581

SECOND EDITION

Book Cover Photography and Graphic Design by Jesse Daughtery First Edition Published, 2016

Second Edition Published, 2018

__

__

2

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_

__

__

__

__

_My thanks to:_

_Nicole, for her love, care, and above all else, patience._

_J.D for his willingness to listen to and read any story I send his way._

_J.T for always being there throughout all the years we've known each_ _other._

_And, H.P. Lovecraft for showing me the door to the unknown and_ _opening it, just a little._

__

_And to the beta readers. Without them, this book would've contained_ _more errors than I'd like to admit._

_Michael Denney_

_Maurice L. Robinson_

_Liam Fraser_

3

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_

****

_**Table of Contents**_ ****

****

_The Stone Man — Page 5_ ****

_Three Unseen Hours — Page 30_

_Hugo the Clown_ _— Page 42_

_Death Toll_ _— Page 48_

_The Shadow on the Belfry_ _— Page 53_

_The Dark Butler_ _— Page 62_

_Once Haunted_ _— Page 84_

__

__

__

__

__

4

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **The Stone Man**

_Originally published in October, 2015 via_ Shoggoth.net **I**

As I moved down the sandy shore of the Woodell

River, searching for rock samples, I stumbled upon a

queerly stacked pile of stones. Placed perfectly it was, on a large weathered rock, so much so not even the water

moving across its base made it budge. It begged the

question, "Who built this?"

Who, indeed, did build the small pillar of stones

that seemed to speak in an unspoken language that not even a geologist's mind could understand? I found it captivating, despite its strangeness. It seemed to have a force about it, something that pulled me towards its direction, kept me standing in the low river, and left me to wonder about its quixotic structure.

While the cool water rushed over my feet and my

eyes fixated on the stacked stones, I pondered. What type of person would create such an odd thing? Slowly, my

imagination pieced together characters that seemed to be ripped from the fictional stories I read over the years.

An old sage who lives in the woods, that builds to

5

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ pay homage to the ancient gods who dwell in the forest. An office worker who needs to be among the water and trees to feel whole, to feel real, to be around nature and not an artificial setting. Or perhaps, a father who is too occupied with his family during the day and night, so before dawn breaks he sneaks to the river, to stack stones for his pleasure.

In thought, I hardly realized I was back on the dirt

trail, walking north towards town. As the sun trickled in through the green trees and the clouds moved across the blue sky like lily pads on water, I quickly learned my imagination did not satisfy my rapidly growing curiosity. I had to know who or what he was, I had to know why he

stacked those small pillars of stone.

When I arrived in town, at the university, I spoke to

my colleagues about the statues over lunch. They did not care much for who built the pillars, or the pillars

themselves, but were familiar with the stone pillars from their own hikes. They, also, obliged me with a sort of name. The name I found myself muttering in empty

classrooms haphazardly, the name that seemingly never left my mind since that lunch. The name of a person I became determined to meet as if fate itself was pushing me

forward, the name was – The Stone Man.

6

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **II**

The plan was simple enough. I was to camp near the

small river, wait for him to come stack his stones, and when he arrived, simply talk to him. Unfortunately I

discovered he built in several locations along the hiking trail, so I prayed luck was on my side that week and he would come to the river.

I arrived on Sunday morning. The sun was still

sleeping and a veil of fog blanketed the rushing waters. I quickly set up the tent among the trees, tossed my

belongings inside, and sat behind the mesh window in the tent's door, looking out into the scenery and hoped he would appear soon.

If I was correct he would show in the morning,

before sunrise. However, if I was not, instead of spending those precious hours sleeping, I would spend them

aimlessly looking out into the early mist. Although the small river and forest were a beautiful sight, nothing could beat a well needed rest.

Several hours had passed, and no movement except

for the insects and small critters among the brush occurred.

When the sun neared its peak, it seemed my body required that well needed rest more than I anticipated. Before I knew 7

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ it I had mistakenly drifted off, allowing the comforting sensation of nothingness take hold of me.

**III**

While the burning orb in the sky hovered high

above me, its rays poured through the yellow tarp ceiling. It filled the tent and my eyes with light, forcing me awake. As if I was late for an important event, I jumped up and looked out into the forest.

The mist had dissipated, the river was calmer, and

atop of one of the half submerged rocks stood one of those stone stacked pillars. "Dammit! He was here! While I

slept!" I shouted. I undid the door, stumbled out from the tent, rushed through the cool water barefoot, crouched, and inspected the oddly designed structure.

It was impressive, to say the least. The bottom stone

was obsidian; rounded, flat, and a sleek black color. The next one was sandstone; large, bulky, triangular, sandy red, and stood vertically. The following rock was shale; a dull shade of brownish yellow, thin, and brittle. The top stone of that weird work of art was limestone; triangular, pointy, had an emerald shade, and was placed vertically, one of its ends pointing up like an antenna.

I did not know how The Stone Man could gather

8

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ such a variety of rocks and balance them in such a short amount of time, then escape into the forest without being heard or seen, but he did. He was, I learned, skillful in his strange ways.

Pushing through the flow of the river, I moved back

to the shore, sat down in the sand, removed a snack bar from my bag, and started to eat. Looking up at the sky, I said, "Little to do now that he came and went." I took another bite. "However, one thing I think is certain, is that he comes before noon, but after dawn."

**IV**

The soft blue sky and calming river made for a

peaceful Monday morning. I turned in early the night

before, to ensure I was awake before dawn to catch The Stone Man in his act.

Inside the tent, sipping from a tin mug that held

freshly brewed coffee, I watched the water gently move over the rock bedding.

While I held the tin cup over my face, taking the

last sip of the nearly cold drink, I heard a rustling in the forest. Quickly setting the mug down, I looked through the mesh window. An old man with a long gray beard and

wearing a patchy maroon robe emerged from the trees, on 9

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ the other side of the river.

Lifting his robe above his knees, he walked into the

stream, hunched down, and started to build his strange form of art. I watched him like he were one of those foreign creatures from the zoo, inspecting how different his ways were to mine.

With calloused hands, he weaved a stack with

stones taken from the riverbed, never examining which one he used, as if his hands contained eyes that could see which were correct and which were not.

Keeping quiet, I watched the artisan complete his

work. When he finished, he pushed off his knees to stand erect. He must have saw me behind the tent window as he did so and became startled, because when he went to turn, his ankle got caught in the bedding. His leg jerked, twisting above the kneecap, and he released a piercing wail into the air as his body collapsed into the water.

**V**

He let out a moan and grabbed onto his thigh,

pulling his leg out from between the rocks that had pinched his ankle. He moved to his side and used his arms to pull himself towards shore, every movement sent waves of

anguish over his face.

10

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ As quickly as I could, I undid the tent door, sprinted out to him, and knelt. I apologized profusely, and while I tried to inspect his leg, my sight continued to wander over his entire body, examining every little odd detail of the old man.

A white t-shirt with tears near the collar was under

his robe and he wore gray shorts that looked like swim shorts. His limbs were skeletal and his cheeks were sunken in. His eyes were a foggy brown that seemed to widen

every time he glanced up at the sky.

I snapped out of my curiosity and looked to his leg.

His ankle was broken, and I assumed, he would not be able to walk for some time. When I offered to help him, he

refused by shaking his head, but after many pleas, he

finally allowed me to carry him into the tent.

Once he lay on the tarp floor inside the tent, water

trickling down from his robe, he continued to writhe in pain. While he cried out to be relieved of his agony, he dug his fingers into his sunburnt thigh, and small beads of blood began to form under his unkempt nails.

Leaning into the tent from the outside, in a frenzy, I said I would go get medical supplies from my home, only ten or so miles north from there, and return as quickly as possible. However, he must stay still and not move, lest he 11

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ do more damage.

Although he tried to crawl away several times

before I left, finally he realized he was better off staying put, and with a feverish nod, he agreed to stay.

**VI**

When I returned with a sack filled with medical

supplies: bandages, splints, and some pills to dull the pain, he was in a deep sleep, using my bag I left as a pillow. His long, heavy snores filled the air.

As I hunched over his broken leg, I began to set his

ankle with a splint and some medical bandages. I silently thanked a particular club leader as I worked, for he was the one who taught me the skill on a hiking trip a few years ago, when a mishap occurred with one of the students.

Fortunately The Stone Man never budged, though I

expected him to without medicine, but by the time he woke up, his leg had been bandaged and set with a splint.

After several attempts to start a conversation were

ignored, we sat in silence, staring idly in different

directions. I believed he was too scared to talk, or perhaps, too upset about his stones. However, when I brought up the stacked stones, and for what purposes he had to build them, his body shuddered, his eyes widened, and his mouth

12

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ became agape.

Frantically he tried to scramble out into the river,

but I quickly pinned him to the ground by his shoulders, shouting that he must not move or he will damage his leg further.

Like a childish lunatic, he wailed and moaned for

what seemed to be hours, until I pulled the painkillers from my pocket, shoved them into his mouth and held his mouth closed, forcing him to swallow. His body was not use to medicine, I soon learned, as a few moments later, he drifted into a lull.

Drugged and half conscious was not the way I

wanted the meeting to carry on, but not everything can finish the way one would like.

**VII**

The next morning his groaning alerted me he

awoke, and I came in with two cups filled with coffee.

Setting one down next to him, unsure if he enjoys the black brew, I sat across from him and blew on my steaming

drink.

When I went to take a sip from my mug, he said in a

low voice, "Did you stack the stones last night? Before dawn?"

13

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ I put my cup down, taken aback that he talked, and

asked him a plethora of questions, ignoring his own.

"What's your name? Where do you live? In these woods? If so, how? Where do you get your food?"

He repeated, "Did you stack the stones last night?

Before dawn?"

"That is not important. What is important is who

you are, where you came from, and how you continue to

survive out here in the woods!"

He clenched his hand and slammed his fist against

the ground, spilling some coffee onto the floor. Screaming now, "Did you stack the stones last night? Before dawn!"

"No! No! I did not stack the stones before dawn or

last night! Why does these stacked stones matter more than my questions?"

Rolling onto his back, looking up at the tent roof, he muttered, "We are doomed. . . so very doomed."

Crawling over to him, I asked, "Doomed? How are

we doomed?"

Without breaking sight with the ceiling, he

continued to mutter. "Doomed. . . we are all doomed.

Doomed. . . we are all. . ." then he slowly dozed off and a tear trickled down the side of his face.

**VIII**

14

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ He still rambled nonsense when the day turned into

dusk. I came into the tent, and went to replace the now cold coffee I left him that morning with a fresh one. However, before my hand reached the tin handle, he snapped over onto his side, grabbed my arm, and dug his sharp nails into my skin.

"Do you want to know why we're are doomed? I

will tell you why," he said, looking up at me with red outlined eyes, and saliva dripping from his mouth.

With a trembling body and a widened gaze, I stared

down at the lunatic who held me still. For a man with no proper nutrition, he was strong, for I was unable to get away from his grasp no matter how hard I tried.

"The beacons I stack. The ones you consider pillars.

Keep an evil at bay, a great evil. An evil that is so great that it must live in outer space, because the Earth is not large enough to contain it. I do not know why it waits in the sky above ours to feed on us, or why it has picked Earth as its feeding dish, but it has!

"The beacons send a signal, a signal that we humans

cannot hear or see. The signal sent tells it that it still cannot come to Earth. That, if the Great Evil tries, it will collapse upon itself, because of the Earth's strong gravity.

"What this evil does not know, is that it can come

15

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ down to Earth. It can break through our atmosphere and crush us under its titanic body. With the beacons, and the emitted signal from them, in some cosmic language, it

speaks to the Great Evil and tells it that it is unsafe, for it will die under its own greatness.

"Now we are doomed. Doomed! The beacons must

be made before dawn, every day, to keep the evil away. It has been two days since the beacons have not been made. It is on its way. Four days with no beacons, it will come and destroy us, the Earth, and everything that you have come to know. . ."

He pulled me down, locked eyes with me, and

shouted. "Unless! You allow me to build the beacons! You must allow me to build the beacons to keep the evil from coming and killing us all!

"If not me, maybe — you! You can build the

beacons! You refuse me to build them, so you must! You must save the planet! Just build them the way I have!

Obsidian, sandstone, shale, and limestone! In that order!

Obsidian. Sandstone. Shale. Limestone.

"Sizes do not matter! Only the shape of the

limestone matters! Make sure it is pointed, like a triangle, and one of the corners points up, to the sky!"

As his quick words echoed through the tent, his

16

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ mouth frothed, and saliva spat out from his mouth,

splashing onto the floor.

"The water here, in the river, is blessed with energy

that helps ward off the Great Evil! There are spots on Earth that are blessed, to ward off the Great Evil, and this river is one of them! Another, I believe, is somewhere across the Atlantic, in a city called Cherry Brooke—

"Do not ask me why or how they are! Perhaps the

gods from above, beyond our universe, walked these waters eons ago, and some particles of their flesh are still

embedded deep below the surface, and the energy from

their incomprehensible celestial strength flows up through the soil, and lives within the water? Maybe, but, truly, I do not know! However, I assure you, that they are blessed!

"Assure me that you will build the beacon, in these

waters, the way I described it, before four days have come!

Assure me! If not, we are doomed!"

The Stone Man was becoming The Mad Man. He

spoke in such a frenzy I could hardly comprehend his

words, however before he begged me to build his beacons, I came to understand him completely.

The stones kept an evil away, and after four days

with no stones, the evil comes, and we perish.

Setting that thought aside, I attempted to ask him

17

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ more questions about who he was, why he builds the

beacons, how was the water blessed, who are the gods

beyond our universe; the Great Evil, what was it, what did it look like, how would one know if it was near; everything and anything my mind could conjure up that related to his ravings.

He ignored my questions however, and continued to

repeat the same insane rant from before. The beacons, the Great Evil, and the planet being doomed.

Quickly I grew tired of trying and disallowed him to

build his beacons with a broken ankle, and refused to build them for him.

At this answer, he screamed into my face, the

stench of his breath nearly making me vomit, freed my arm, rolled over, and started weeping.

**IX**

While The Stone Man wept and eventually fell

asleep, I stood outside, looking up into the cloudless, star filled, night sky.

Peering up, I could see something that I never

noticed before. A greenish purple sphere, in the blackness above. It looked like some type of comet, but from what I could gather, it did not have the long colorful tail trailing 18

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ behind it, nor did it possess any color of any comet I knew of.

"That's odd." I said to myself. "Once I get back to

the university, I will speak to one of the astrology

professors about this." Although my words ceased, my

thoughts did not.

I did not know much about comets or outer space

entirely, being a geology professor, I frequently focused more on the planet than what surrounded it. Certainty, the colors of the comet above were uncommon; however, to a more advanced mind, it was possible they were common.

For all I knew, it could have been a regular comet, an object that soars through space aimlessly, composed of frozen gases and rock.

My mind raced with possibilities, but I came to the

conclusion the time for examination was not then, and more information was required to assess the unusually colored space rock.

Giving up on the inspection, I yawned and moved

back into the tent. Laying down next to The Stone Man, I closed my eyes, and drifted to sleep.

**X**

19

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Kneeling next to a small fire the following morning,

poking at the burning wood with a stick, I looked up to see the green-purple comet still there, now even larger; no —

not larger — closer. I refused to believe The Stone Man's story, so I looked back to the fire, placing a water filled tin pot above it, and watched the water slowly come to a boil.

Henry, he mistakenly told me in one of his

ramblings, still could not move. I believed he refused to move for more reasons than just his broken leg. It was likely he feared leaving the tent, that the tarp ceiling somehow protected him from the Great Evil in the sky he continued to obsess about.

Truly, he was a mad man who had spent too much

time away from society, and being among the animals,

insects, and trees left him with no grip on reality. It was unfortunate and sad; however, soon I would take him back into the city, and he would adjust to modernity, one way or another.

**XI**

I entered the tent early that night, due to an

unsuspected storm settling in. I found Henry fast asleep.

Putting as much distance between each other, I laid down, and quickly fell asleep to the sound of the heavy rainfall.

20

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Waking drenched in sweat, I could see the sky

through burnt holes in the tent's ceiling. It was a blazing mix of reds and oranges, and looked like the sky had been replaced entirely by the sun. Despite my mind being aware I was dreaming, I did not wake up, and as if I were an audience member to my own dream, I watched the story

unfold.

Stumbling to my feet, I moved barefoot through the

flapping open door and peered out over the river. The

Woodell River was no longer a place where cool waters

flowed calmly downstream. Now in front of me laid an

deep, barren chasm.

With sweat stinging eyes, and the feeling of my

blood boiling, I looked up. The comet from before eclipsed the sky; not the moon, stars, or the sun could be seen beyond its titanic frame. No longer was it green and purple, but red, orange, and yellow, and waves of dark blue flames flowed over its body.

Staggering back, barely able to stand in the

blistering heat. I glanced over the horizon and saw it ablaze, and the treetops surrounding the river were

engulfed by fire. The flames were so giant it looked as if they were burning holes into the troposphere.

I lost my balance and fell forward, crashing to the

21

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ ground, the top half of my body falling over the edge of the river. Looking hazily down I could see Henry, at the

bottom of the chasm, building his beacons, with a large smile across his face.

His skin was burnt and bleeding, parts of his bones

poked out from his flesh, and his wide eyes were boiling, like water above a flame, as he stacked the stones.

I shouted to him with a frothing mouth, while tufts

of my hair freely fell from my head around me, "What is happening?"

He looked up with a grin, his teeth showing beyond

gaping holes in his cheeks, and mouthed, "We. Are.

Doomed."

**XII**

I awoke in a cold sweat when a flash of light

painted the air white. Looking to my side, I found the tent empty and noticed the door was open.

Jumping to my feet, I ran outside and shielded my

eyes from the rain with my arm. Through a veil of water, I could see Henry, trying to build one of his beacons while laying in the river. Waves surged over him, the strength of the tide nearly dragging him underneath.

"Henry," I screamed. "Henry! Come back into the

22

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ tent! It is pouring, and the tide will pull you under! You will be dragged out to sea if you do not get out of the river!

Or worse! You will drown!"

He continued to stack his stones while I screamed

from the shore, either ignoring me or the sound of the heavy rainfall blocking out my cries. Nevertheless, I

pushed through the sheets of water and the rapidly growing river, towards him, still shouting for him to get back to shore.

It was hopeless, I thought, for him and his beacons.

Every time he stacked one stone on top of another, it would crumble under the tide's strength, or the power of the wind would force it down.

After several minutes, my hands were wrapped

around his arm, dragging his body across the riverbed

towards the shore. He fought back, kicking and writhing in my grasp, but with both hands clasped around his arm, I had the upper hand, and we slowly, but surely, neared

shore.

Flashes of white light filled the air haphazardly,

letting me catch glimpses of Henry's drenched body. His hair and beard were soaked and mangled against his face, his maroon robe was filled with water, and the splint and bandages were no longer on his bruised broken ankle.

23

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Finally we made it to shore, he had given up the

fight midway and allowed me to pull him towards the tent with no struggle. But as we neared our shelter, he looked up towards the sky, then faced me, shouting, "WE ARE

DOOMED!" I did not understand him completely. We

were safe, away from the river, only a few steps from the tent, so I shouted back, "What do you mean?" Then he

pointed with his boney finger upwards.

Removing one hand from him, I used my now free

arm to block the rain from my eyes when I looked up to see the greenish purple comet from before. However it so near that if I dared to, I could reach out and touch it. It was enormous, so much so, if anyone from Woodell would have been looking out their window that stormy night, they

would have seen its massive frame protruding from the

treetops, even from ten miles away.

It was entirely purple with green swirls twisting and

slithering over its solid body. Suddenly, before I could sprint to the tent for safety, a thin, horizontal line formed over it. Slowly it opened to reveal a gargantuan, white eyeball with no pupil and a green colored iris. Within the iris were millions of purple misshapen beings that swayed in the green liquid, as if it were a pool and they were performing some type of strange swimming dance act.

24

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ I could not move, nor could I close my hanging jaw

or my wide eyes, and more than just rain soaked my pant leg. Then a thundering shriek echoed from the Great Evil, sending thousands of vibrations through the air, flinging me onto my back.

As I writhed in the wet sand, crying and wailing,

attempting to protect myself with my arms, the Great Evil floated nearer, and I regretfully watched as tiny black holes ripped open in each iris being's body. Smokey red lines drifted out from each opening, and twisted and weaved

across the white abyss that surrounded them. A hellish pattern of veins formed before me, which seemed to stretch and connect to some unseen alien organ on the Great Evil's backside

Before the continuous thundering shriek blew out

my eardrums, before the Great Evil fed me to its alien offspring within its iris, before my crumbling sanity had been dealt the final blow — everything became a blinding white, then an engulfing black. . .

**XIII**

Waking up on the ground, sand crusted against my

face and clothes, my wet hair sticking to my face, I hazily looked around to see Henry was gone, and so was the Great 25

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Evil.

The storm had passed, and so had The Stone Man.

After some time, I eventually gathered enough

strength, and got to my feet. I packed the tent and my belongings, then staggered in a daze back down the trail towards my vehicle, ignoring the hikers and joggers along the way.

Daring not to speak about that day or The Stone

Man to anyone, I kept the week's events to myself, only writing them down in this journal. So perhaps, one day, it will make sense to me, or I will be able to comprehend some things that have come to pass.

However, one thing is for certain is what Henry

obsessed about, in his mad ravings while lying in the tent, were true, so unspeakably true. Those stacked stones he spoke of were beacons, beacons that warded off the Great Evil from this planet, and that the Woodwell River is

blessed, blessed by some godly unknown force.

What he did not properly explain was how or why

they were, or if there were other Great Evils out there, ones that might protect the Earth in the same way. Or if there were others like him, like Henry, those who queerly build beacons with Mother Nature's devices, to ward off other 26

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ cosmic creatures.

And, what of Henry and the Great Evil? They were

gone when I came to on the shore, but how? My mind

lingers on that dreadful night. If the Great Evil was so powerful, then why am I still alive? Why does the Earth still stand? I can peer out my window and see children walking down the street, why are they still here? I do not know exactly what happened, but I possess several theories.

Henry did something, perhaps sacrificing himself

for me, and the planet. Or perhaps, he offered something to it that was worth far more than the planet, though I cannot fathom what. It is possible Henry knew more about the

Great Evil than he allowed me to know, he might have been able to control it in such a way to save everything—

What I do know is this: I dare not question nor look

deeper into the unknown depths of knowledge he

possessed, or how he came upon that knowledge, nor do I go out of my way to discover what happened to him after the terrible night. In spite of my curiosity, I prefer my ignorance in this matter.

However, I have tried looking for anyone who knew

of Henry before he became The Stone Man. Through

countless questions and dead ends, I learned that Henry was 27

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ once a student at the university, twenty or so years ago. He studied geology, physics, astrology, and cosmology.

A professor of astrology, a Mr. Bagley, remembered

him as a great student. But it appeared with every passing week, he became more and more disheveled. He started to show up late to class, or not attend at all. When asked questions, he would rant and rave about how nonsensical the subject was, and would speak of creatures in space.

Ones who lived beyond the outskirts of our universe, that lurked where no light could reach, waiting to consume

everything that we have come to know and understand as reality.

Eventually, Mr. Bagley concluded, he stopped

showing up completely, and after a week, left the

university. No one knew where he went after that; not even his parents, who later stopped looking for him after five years.

I did not question Mr. Bagley, or anyone else,

further about Henry, learning that some things are better to accept than to question.

The stones shield us and without Henry, I do not

believe we will survive another encounter with the Great Evil.

28

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Thus, every two days, before the sun rises, I hike

the five mile trail, turn east, move down the rocky hill, and come to the Woodell River. There, I crouch in the cold waters, over a weathered rock, and start to build a beacon, following Henry's instructions exactly: obsidian,

sandstone, shale, and limestone, one angle pointing up, towards the sky.

Sometimes, when I am lost in the artisanal act, I can

hear in the distance people moving down to the river. I can feel their fingers point towards to me, and I can hear one whisper to the other, "Look, there — that's The Stone

Man."

****

29

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **Three Unseen Hours**

**I**

The echoes of my shoes against the pavement filled

the night air as I ran towards home. I needed to be behind the safety of locked doors and a blindfold before they came. Glancing to my watch, it was 2:55 A.M. Only five minutes remaining, I thought. Running under the street lamps that painted the ground a sickly yellow, I could see my house in the distance.

2:58 A.M.

Two minutes. Just enough time. My body pivoted

from the sidewalk onto the stone walkway.

2:59 A.M.

When my foot landed on the doorstep, I reached for

the door handle. Relief flooded my body like a wave. I was going to be okay, was going to be safe and protected,

behind locked and barred windows.

3:00 A.M.

A thunderous slam flooded the still air, and all at

once the feeling of relief and safety I held just a moment ago evaporated. All the locks and bars were thrown in the neighborhood simultaneously. There was an automatic

30

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ electronic system in place, so each night they were all triggered at the correct time, ensuring the Law was abided.

I took the handle in both hands and tried to turn it,

but it did not move. Then, I attempted to wrench the door open by gripping its end and pulling with all my strength, but no matter my efforts, it still would not open.

Pounding on the door with numbing fists, I shouted.

"Christina! Please let me in! I know it's three

o'clock, and we are not suppose to unlock the doors — let alone open them — but please! It would only be a few

seconds, if that! I am your husband, please help me!"

Despite the silence from the other side of the door, I knew she stood in the foyer, looking to the door underneath her white blindfold.

At last, she replied in a whisper I faintly heard

through the wooden barrier.

"Dear, I cannot, you know that. They come at night, and the Law says the only way to be protected is with

locked doors, windows, and a blindfold. We must not

disobey the Law, we were taught this as children, and as adults.

"You should have come home sooner—"

Her words were replaced by sobs.

31

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_

"I pray for your safety" she continued after a

moment, "my dear husband. If you are still here after six o'clock, please come running back and hammer on the

door! I will unlock the door without a second thought! May God protect you. I love you Charles."

**II**

As if my rage was bound by shackles and I had

broken free after hours of thrashing about, I flew into a frenzy and beat on the door with my every limb. I had to be

— no, must be! — inside. It was against the Law to be out past three o'clock, for they come once the clock strikes three.

We were taught they were called the Unseen, ones

who were never to be looked upon by human eyes, for a

mere glance into their glossy blue retinas or silvery, ivory flesh would turn the hardest of men mad. Only a few poor souls in the last hundred years have lived to tell a tale about the Unseen, and those wretched fools, if they managed to stay alive beyond six o'clock, lived out their miserable days in the Briswich County Psychiatric Institute.

And despite their minds filled with madness, their

words seemingly are not, that's how the Law learned how to protect its denizens of Briswich from the Unseen.

32

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ The door would not give, nor would my blasted

wife. After a half an hour went by, I gave up. My knees buckled and I slid down onto the doorstep, weeping and praying that God would protect me on that dreadful night.

While I covered my face in my hands, tears seeping out between my fingers, a faint gurgling shriek shot through the air from down the street. Wiping the hair and tears from my face, I looked where the noise came from.

Billowing fog rolled over the pavement, and the

lamps that gave the sickly yellow glow were swallowed up, one by one. No longer would they protect me from the

night. Once consumed, the street lamps were not even

silhouettes against the thick vapor.

Beyond the smoky vista I could see hazy outlines of

the Unseen: creeping, sliding, rolling, crawling in their aquatical ways, across the ground in search for anyone that they could devour who had not heeded the Law. My eyes

widened, fear now becoming more real than ever before. I sprung up onto my feet and barraged the door as quickly and hard as I could. It was imperative that I be inside, I needed safety — God only knew what the Unseen would

do with a poor soul like me!

I began to scream through the door, not caring who

heard in the neighborhood. Damn them all to Hell anyway, 33

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ they would not save me even if I was on fire and they

carried a bucket full of water!

"Christina! Let me in this instant! I am your

husband and I order you to let me in, right now! For the love of all that is holy in this world, please let me in. Do you want me to die? To be devoured by those demons

below the sea? To be dragged down to the bottom of the ocean? To drown? Do you? If not, open the door!"

**III**

The only reply I received was the thudding in my

ears, and my heart pounding against my chest.

"Damn you Christina! If you do not open this door, then our marriage is a lie! You said you would do anything for me, in sickness and in health, but you refuse to simply open the door just a few inches for me to live!"

Still silence lingered in the air.

"Fine! Be this way! But be warned, that if I do

survive the night, I will come back furious, and only a God given miracle will protect you!"

Nothing but my heavy breath could be heard.

Without bothering further, caring more for my safety than scolding my wife, I turned away from my home.

34

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Glancing down the way, the shadows of the Unseen

were creeping nearer, and I could make out their

malformed limbs through the fog. With haste, I sprang

from the doorstep, down the walkway, and up the street, frantically searching for somewhere to hide. My mind

raced from bushes, to sheds, to abandoned houses, to

anything that could possibly shelter me for the night.

Every bush was too small, each trashcan was

locked, and every house was impenetrable. My mind raced, perspiration covered my body, and it felt so warm despite the crisp, cold night air. I peeked at my watch to find it was little bit after four o'clock. A sound as if someone was shrieking while being submerged under water rang out over the air. I did not care to look back to see what it could have been, I only forced my legs to move faster.

I kept on going straight, nearly in a full blown

sprint, for ten or so blocks until a square silhouette came into view as I trudged up a hill. Getting close, the street lamp plastering it with yellow light, I discovered it to be an abandoned garage. Without a second thought, I ran to it, lifted up the sliding door, which gave a metallic screech as it went, and slid inside. Silently I pulled the door closed, but it refused to close entirely, leaving about ten inches 35

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ between the door and the cement floor. I did not bother with it for long, giving up and turning to the garage.

**IV**

It was musty, dingy, and dark. Everything seemed

to have a second, and third, and fourth layer of dust, debris, and in most cases, spider webs. Regardless of the condition of the place, I felt safer there than being outside. In the center was a long forgotten motorcar, rust stretched up its side, and its hood, tires and engine were missing.

Walking to the far corner, where a tower of boxes

stood, I slid behind them and sat against the wall. With precision, I placed the boxes in such a way that I believed I could not be seen from the doorway, not even with the

hellish eyes of the Unseen.

However, I did leave a minuscule crevice to peek

through. My vision was locked on the door. If they did come and discover me, I thought. I would have no escape and would simply give up and die. I had no chance against them. But, if the tales of the madmen are true, they cannot smell, nor can they properly see on land, and their limbs can only stretch so far. I should be safe behind these boxes.

Looking to my watch, it read 4:30 A.M. Only an

hour and a half remained.

36

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Moving my vision back to the door, where some of

the yellow light came in underneath, I closely watched and waited for any sort of movement. Despite my heart

pumping rapidly, my wide burning eyes, and the sweat that seemed to pour from every crevice I possessed, when I

blinked, the long night caught up with me and slumber

enveloped my mind, and mistakenly I fell asleep.

**V**

A gurgled shriek, like before but nearer, pulled me

back into the waking world. I jerked up and peered through the opening. The sickly yellow light from the lamp had been engulfed by the thick fog that was pouring in. The shadows of the Unseen's misshapen feet were underneath the door.

My body began to tremble, and it felt like sweat

gushed out from under my arms. When a blackened

tentacle slid through the opening, my eyes expanded as far as they would allow. The tentacle suctioned to the door and threw it open. I bite down on my tongue to push back the scream lodged in my throat.

Great big tufts of vapor billowed in, filling the

entire garage. In spite of this, my eyes never lost focus of the shadow that entered the room. Whatever queer monster 37

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ it was, it stood nearly to the ceiling with appendages that slithered in every direction. It monotonously gurgled and moaned, as if it were speaking. And what will haunt me for the rest of my days was its hideously blue glossy eyes, seemingly the misty waters of the morning ocean swayed beyond its corneas.

I slapped a shuttering hand over my gaping mouth,

trying even more to force back the scream that swelled inside me. The monstrosity simply stood in place while its tentacles slithered and flopped about. Its ghostly eyes stared vacantly towards the stack of boxes I hide behind, but I could not be certain if it saw me or not. I did not dare to move a single muscle.

Before I could shield myself, the boxes were thrown

across the room. The Unseen's eyes locked onto mine and began glowing, and it was as if the creature's vision

reached beyond my frame, and began ripping my God

given soul out. I stared into the darkest depths of the ocean through its retinas. I could see the place where they

dwelled, so far below the sea's surface that no man, even in a thousand years, could reach.

There were randomly placed misshapen structures

made from a coral-like substance across a vast sandy land.

They conducted rituals that served a purpose that not even 38

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ the most religious mind could rationalize. There were more things, so many more, incomprehensible and unspeakable things that I physically cannot put into words that moved over my mind like a poorly recorded film.

By sheer willpower alone, I broke its hypnosis and

looked away, obsessively thinking of Christina, my home, and my things; thinking of anything and everything that made me human, that made each person human.

Desperately I threw my hands over my face, shut my eyes, and screamed so loud that even my wife — nearly three

miles away — could hear.

**VI**

A bell rang in the distance. Then it rang again.

Every few seconds it would ring. The chiming echoed into my head, calming me strangely. I opened my eyes,

expecting to see the abomination towering over me,

preparing to eat every scrap of meat from my bones. But nothing, absolutely nothing, was there but faint remnants of the fog.

I looked to my watch.

6:01 A.M.

Emotions that can only be described as

indescribable flooded my body: happiness, relief,

39

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ uneasiness, anxiety, nausea, and so on. I jumped to my feet, nearly tumbling over from the weakness of my legs. As

quickly as I could move, I made my way out of the garage and ran down the street.

There was only a thin layer of fog blanketing the

scenery, and there was no signs of the Unseen. The street lamps were on, and the sidewalks were faintly covered in the yellow glow. A grayish blue blanketed everything, and the sun was on the horizon.

The bell continued to chime in the distance,

becoming fainter with each ring.

With a smile ear to ear, and the stench of endless

fright covering from my body, I survived the night with the Unseen. There would be countless others ahead, but I

refused to be a part of its horrors, regardless of how much temptation the nightlife possessed.

Though I was enthralled with happiness, the things

the madmen at the Institute spoke of lingered in my mind.

They were correct about the Unseen, they are horrible, malformed creatures, not longed for a world above the

watery surface. Although I did not believe I was slowly becoming mad from their sight, I felt that if I suffered another night with the Unseen, I would surely lose my grip 40

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ on reality and soon become another patient at the Briswich County Psychiatric Institute.

I pushed aside those thoughts as I ran. They did not

really matter at all in reality, for I refused to find myself out that late once more. Moreover, I was returning home! I would stay at home after sunset, with my beloved wife and my precious belongings.

41

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **Hugo The Clown**

This one was the one. This was the last he needed to

open the door in his cellar. Hugo "Happy Go-Lucky Huggi"

Knight drove down Cherry Springs Drive in his large white van, the side of which was painted with an image of a

clown holding balloons, above him candy sprinkled down like rain, and Hugo's stage name stretched across the top in big yellow bubbly letters.

The cloudless sky rolled over his windshield, and

the smell of freshly cut grass drifted through his open window. As Hugo steered his vehicle, he reflected on how he got to this point in life. It had only been two months!

Two months of children's parties to retrieve nearly enough energy he needed. God willing, young Tommy York would

be the last, his life force would put it over the top. A smile crept over his face while the wind blew back his long

brown hair.

When he stopped at the corner, he saw Mr. Lawson

trimming the hedges in front of his house. He wore a

brightly colored polo shirt and khaki shorts that hugged his thighs. Hugo said hello through the open window. Mr.

42

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Lawson looked up, held the clippers to his side, and waved.

They exchanged pleasantries for a few moments, then

Hugo made a left turn and drove steadily down Tony

Street.

The York's house was at the end of the way. Each

house that moved across Hugo's vision was identical. They were all painted with dull colors, with a boring light trim, and had exactly the same amount of windows, and shutters, and porch lights, and so on. But the doldrums of the

suburbs wouldn't bring down Hugo that day, no, not at all.

On this day, he was going to get what he needed and get the hell out of that boring town. Hell! He planned to leave that lackluster world, and cross over the threshold and be on what he considered the "better side." He didn't know what laid beyond the door, but Hugo believed anything was

better than what he already had. ****

An hour later he stood in his clown attire while

Tommy attempted to blow up a red balloon. Patiently, he watched everything go according to plan. Tommy tried,

tried, and tried to blow up the balloon with air, but Hugo knew it wouldn't work with that particular balloon. This balloon expanded not with air, but with life force. Each blow from the tiny lips of Tommy emitted the energy that 43

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ kept him alive. Every kid fell for the whole, "I can't blow this up, maybe I'm getting too old, how about the birthday boy (or girl) gives it a try?" stunt. The kid would smile with a big stupid grin, jump up, snatch the balloon from Hugo's light green gloved hand, and start blowing.

With a smile ear to ear, Hugo would watch with joy

as each breath was another he gathered, shaving off a few years from the child's life. Eventually, the balloon would fill and expand, revealing a giant yellow smiley face. Hugo would take the balloon, pat Tommy on the back and reward him with a handful of candy taken from his enormous

jacket pocket. The kid would take it, peer vacantly over the rest of the children, then faint.

By the time an ambulance would be called, and his

apologies had been said, Hugo would be in his van, with the sealed balloon bobbing in the passenger's seat, driving towards home. When the child would come to, Hugo would be gone — long gone.

And that's just what happened with Tommy York.

Tommy blew until the balloon filled, stood stupidly with a handful of candy, then collapsed onto the floor. His parents immediately called 9-1-1. The ambulance came and Hugo

left the party, filled balloon in hand. ****

44

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ He rushed out from the parked van, across the

walkway, over the porch, and into his house. Hugo

slammed the door shut and wrenched the clown suit from his body, revealing his plain white t-shirt and basketball shorts. He pinched the bottom of the balloon between his two fingers as he ran down the hallway, turned in the

kitchen, opened the cellar door and ran down the stairwell.

Flicking on the overhead lights, he stared at the altar and the door.

Both were ancient, beyond age and time, not a

single person he asked could tell him how old they actually were. They looked decayed, with dark gray hues, and

creases and crevices cracking up through their surface. The altar looked like a bird bath for the damned, and the door looked like a giant, peaked vagina. The two parts of the door that would soon slide open were closed together so tight that Hugo couldn't even poke a needle between them.

Hugo paced over to the altar, undid the balloon's tie, and pushed out Tommy's life force. When the energy

passed the brim of the large concave basin, it intertwined with the life force already collected, and transformed into baby blue colored fire. The flames parted, revealing the gray bottom, then twisted, turned and erupted up over the top.

45

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ The balloon was emptied, and Hugo quickly took a

step back. With widening eyes, he watched the flames

dancing high above the altar, nearly touching the ceiling, then curve downwards, shooting to the ground. An unseen crevice in the floor ignited with the fire and the blue flames darted across the room, to the door.

The blue fire crashed against the gateway, spun, and

set the archway ablaze. Then, as if an explosion occurred, the room shook, and a blinding light blared out from

between the two sliding doors, forcing Hugo to wince and cover his eyes with his arm. He heard a grinding sound soon after, of stone against stone. Slowly Hugo opened his eyes and saw the doorway open gradually. It opened

entirely after a few seconds. Hugo stood on the threshold, his toes stopping on the line between his world and theirs, whoever they were.

His took a deep breath, then took a step into the

unknown. What Hugo believed to be on the other side, a world filled with magical and imaginative things and

beings, one where he could explore endlessly and never see the same thing twice, one where gargantuan creatures

roamed vast grassy fields or enormous reptilian beings flew across a cloudless skies, and most importantly, one where 46

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ he would have never-ending happiness and excitement, was not what he discovered.

Once Hugo was beyond the threshold, a thousand

long, purplish gray arms shot out from the abyss and

grabbed onto his limbs. The thin, sharp fingers dug into his flesh. They pulled him up into the air by his skin and one by one, ripped, slashed, gashed and pulled apart his body.

On the brink of death, the last fleeting thought that moved through the mind of the once child performer, was that he fell for the same trick as the kids, but there wasn't going to be a handful of candy at the end.

****

****

****

****

****

47

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **Death Toll**

Chris sat in his car while other drivers blared their

horns and screamed out their windows. It was a traffic jam, which wasn't uncommon during the summer. The glaring

sun and blistering heat made the air thick. He didn't mind it too much though, with the air conditioning set to max, blasting out the small vents in the dashboard.

Idly he glanced across the sea of cars ahead, and

rested his eyes on the Death Toll Sign. It showed

numerically how many accidental or purposeful fatalities occurred on that exact highway. Most people believed it was too grim for public roads or city streets, but for highways it was fair game. Chris thought it was just fine.

There was something invigorating about being able to stare death right in his face. The sign said, "You better not fuck around on this road, or you'll be next!"

The heat ripples in the air glided over the LED sign.

The sign sat at four hundred and fifty-eight. He hunched over, placing his forearms on the wheel and rested his chin on his arms. He watched as the numbers did something he, or anyone, never had seen. Instead of increasing, as

48

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ everyone expected, they decreased. At first it was slow, every minute or two it would lower.

457.

456.

455.

Then before his widening eyes, its speed increased

from every minute to every second.

455, 454, 453, 452, 451, 450. . .

It wasn't supposed to do that, wasn't supposed to be

able to do that. Probably, Chris thought, it was on the fritz.

Maybe I should call a repairman when I get home? No, I have too many things to do. I'm sure someone else will do it.

But. . . what if it wasn't broken? He rubbed his eyes, rolled down the window, and craned his neck to look at the sign over the hood of the car.

It was decreasing by twenty-fives now.

425, 400, 375, 350, 325, 300. . .

"What the hell. . ? Am I going crazy?" Chris muttered to himself as he got out his car. He slammed the door behind him, and began moving towards the sign.

As he maneuvered around the gleaming hot

vehicles, the sign started to decrease by fifties.

250, 200, 150, 100, 50. . .

49

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ By the time Chris stood in front of the Death Toll

Sign, looking up at its LED lights, it had reached

0.

Nothing had changed. He spun around, and at a

glance couldn't notice anything different. It was no sign of God, no revival of the masses, not a single thing around him from four hundred and fifty-eight to zero had changed.

Chris blankly stared for a few seconds, trying to

gather his thoughts. He wasn't crazy, thankfully,

confirming to himself that the sign was just broken. With a shrug, he turned around and moved back to his car,

weaving around the humming vehicles.

Then the cars began to move, little by little, each

one slowly rolling forward. Some of the drivers' were beet red from screaming the entire time, others were miserable looking with children bouncing around in the backseat, and some were doing well, with music floating out from the radio and the AC doing its God given duty.

Chris continued on, looking for his car through the

sea of once motionless vehicles. It was difficult to find at first, but once he noticed that his was the one of the few cars not moving, he found it easily.

He got to it, and moved over to the driver's side.

When he placed his hand on the hot steel handle, he

50

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ recoiled, gripping his stinging hand, and stumbled back into the adjacent lane. A car flew through the lane, taking Chris by surprise, and rammed into him. It sent Chris flying through the air. He crashed against the asphalt until his momentum petered out, coming to a complete stop.

Lying there mangled and bloody, he shouted for

help.

"Help me please! Someone help! Stop your damn

cars and help me!"

Not a single car stopped.

Not even one driver glanced down through the

window and saw the poor soul dying on the road. Blood

began gurgling out from his mouth, forcing his throat

closed. All his limbs but one arm was broken, so waving or moving at all was out of the question.

Another car ran over him, then a few moments later,

another. They crushed his legs and flattened his torso.

There was no hope for Chris any longer. He couldn't do anything to signal for help. All he could do was die.

With his head on the ground, turned to the side, he

stared through a haze at the Death Toll Sign.

As the world began to fade away, he noticed finally

some people were leaving their cars and running towards him. But it was too late, his body began shutting down, and 51

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ a blurry black circle enclosed around his vision. The people who now surrounded him were empty, dark, as if they were shadows.

While the glare of the sun trickled in between the

stranger's looming silhouette-like frames, the suffocating heat began to dissipate.

He watched the Death Toll Sign's LED digits turn

from zero — to one.

****

****

52

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **The Shadow on the Belfry**

**I**

While the sky was a grayish blue and the sun only a

faint red line of light on the mountainous horizon, the fog rolled over Woodell. Gabled roofs, streets, and even some early risers, were engulfed by the vapor. Save for the church's bell tower, poking out from the sea of mist,

peering out over the small town.

It was like this nearly every morning, and one

particular person was always its audience. Grant, a middle-aged man whose house stood atop a hill that overlooked Woodell, escaping the dewy clutches of the fog. He would stir from bed, put on his black slippers and black robe, and shuffle out and stand on the edge of his wooden porch to take in the view each dawn.

Sometimes he would try to see something new atop

the houses, like a new type of bird or a cute squirrel. Other times, if he did not become too tired he would stay out until noon, and watch the sun rise in the distance. As if it were awe inspiring, he would gander wide-eyed as the sky

changed from a grayish blue to a soft pink and silky yellow, then to an azurite blue. The clouds over Woodell would 53

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ dissipate and the town would bask in the warm radiance.

Despite Grant's enthusiasm for this occurrence each

day, to someone other than him, like his wife, it was a lackluster and boring routine that she tried to avoid, either by faking a stomach ache or simply refusing to leave bed.

**II**

On Wednesday, Grant scanned the town from his

porch. He looked from one roof to the next, noticing there was much more fog that morning. He stopped when he

reached the bell tower. Atop the belfry was a darkened figure, its blackness contrasting harshly against the white vapor. It looked like a shadow without a body. As it

hunched down, Grant got the impression that it was peering down upon Woodell below.

He nearly fell from his porch as he strained to see

more details, but all he could gather was that the silhouette was rather large and misshapen. While he cupped his hands over his eyes, almost falling over the railing, the shadow suddenly stood up. Grant guessed it to be at least eight feet tall. Two enormous wings ejected out from its back and almost instantaneously, the shadow shot up into the sky.

Grant quickly craned his neck in attempt to follow it, but it became lost in the clouds.

54

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **III**

Thursday came and went. The shadow that was

once perched upon the bell tower was nowhere to be found, but Grant still stayed out on his porch, in hopes it would return. After a few hours, sighing with defeat, he dragged his feet back inside, disappointed and empty handed.

When he returned to his bedroom, he found his wife

awake, reading one of her romance novels. He took off his slippers and robe, slunk into bed next to her and rolled onto his slide. To amuse her husband, she asked if he had seen anything interesting recently. He sullenly replied, "No."

**IV**

When Friday came it was there again, looking down

on the town, inspecting it. That morning he came prepared with a cheap pair of binoculars. Putting the device to his eyes, he quickly zoomed in on the black figure, only to find the fog covered most of its features.

But the details that could be made out were that it

had long and muscular limbs, a broad chest and a thin

abdomen, an oval-shaped head, and two large curved wings that came out from its back. It was as if it was simply a giant man that queerly possessed wings. As Grant

continued to examine the figure, he began to discover the 55

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ tall being was no longer looking down at Woodell — but looking back at him. ****

With a sweaty palm gripping the binoculars resting

against his waist and a tingly chill moving up his lower back, Grant knew in some strange way the figure's vision was not impaired by the fog or the distance, like his. It had the ability to see him clearly and its eyes were locked onto him.

His curiosity gradually became greater than the fear

creeping up into his mind. He put the binoculars back to his eyes and in an attempt to pierce the fog, he zoomed it as far as the device would allow. Before he could get a clear image, the creature expanded its wings and shot up into the heavens.

He vacantly gazed where the being once was for

some time, all the while gnawing on his lower lip in

aggravation and balling his free hand into a fist. Then in a burst of frustration, Grant slammed his fist against the wooden banister, shouting, "Dammit!"

Moments later, resting his soon-to-be bruised fist on

the railing, he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

Once the anger was just a dull throb in his head, he swung around, and moved back into the house, to join his wife in 56

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ bed.

**V**

The following day the creature did not appear. After

he spent an hour out on his porch, Grant believed he came out too early, but once another hour passed, he had to accept the creature was not coming. He did not know how important it was until that morning. Seeing it was like a drug he did not know he needed, and when it did not show, he became anxious and irritated.

**VI**

Saturday was okay, bearable even, but now on

Sunday, it was maddening. Unknowingly the shadow

became his little secret, something that only he believed existed and in some delusional way, only he could see.

He closed his eyes and as he wrapped his fingers

over the wooden railing and gritted his teeth, images of the night before flashed across his mind.

Grant was too eager to sleep. He laid next to his

wife in bed, tossing and turning, while pictures of the figure played in his head like a film. He thought about it, how it seemed to not adhere to the same rules that all humans did.

All his ideas and beliefs about the figure made him

57

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ feel like a child on Christmas Eve: excited, impatient, filled with wonder and hope. Praying that the one gift he truly wanted — no, needed! — lay under the tree.

But he quickly learned that morning that it was not

Christmas, and no presents were placed underneath the tree.

With a heavy grunt, Grant pushed off the railing, opened his eyes and trudged back inside, cursing under his breath.

**VII**

Monday came and to his relief the shadow was

there, kneeling on the church's bell tower. As quickly as Grant could move, he ran to the porch's railing, leaned over and zoomed in with his binoculars. He brought his vision up towards the creature's head, but as soon as he did, the shadowy figure abruptly flew up into the sky.

The anger Grant held at bay on Friday came back

immediately. He gripped the binoculars with his sweaty hand, lifted them over his head, and slammed them down against the wooden banister. Over and over again he

smashed the binoculars against the railing, until the glass on the inside shattered and the plastic began to crack and break in his hand. He glared down at the street, his chest heaving and his reddened face covered in perspiration.

"Goddammit! Again!" He shouted, as he chucked

58

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ the remnants of binoculars to his feet.

His eyes locked on the remains of the binoculars,

while he dug his nails into the banister. He tried to simmer the bubbling rage by thinking of anything else, like his wife or the scenery before him. As he did so, a noise echoed above and behind him. To Grant, it sounded like a bird landed on the metal awning that covered most of the porch, and that's what he assumed it was when he turned to look.

But there was no bird atop of the metal roof — no, it was not a bird of any kind.

It was the unknown figure, the shadowy thing, the

creature he longed to see in the mornings, perched,

hunched over, glaring down at him.

**VIII**

It was not the violet bumpy skin, or the enormous

transparent wings, nor the strange fin protruding from the center of its face, but its eyes. Bright orange, with hints of yellow and purple and green, twisting and turning, forming some kind of queer pattern within the clear pools embedded in its face.

It was as if the multi-colored ovals in the creature's head could see past Grant's pudgy frame, his flesh, his bones. He felt it moved beyond all humanity and peered 59

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ deep down into the darkest depths of his God given soul.

The church's bell tower rang in the distance and

snapped him from his fear induced hypnosis. Immediately flight took over Grant's body. As he turned, to leap from the porch, not caring if he shattered his legs against the cement below, the creature leapt from the metal roof. With its claws out and mouth open, it engulfed Grant. Its hand tore through the back of Grant's robe and its sharp claws sank into his flesh, while its other arm coiled around his torso.

Even as the arm tightened around him and his

insides were rummaged through, Grant's vision focused on the sea of rooftops in the distance. Despite his instincts screaming at him to fight, to escape, to get away as quickly as possible, he knew his stout physique was no match for the creature.

While blood filled his mouth and thoughts of the

impending afterlife swelled inside his head, he decided what he would do for the last few seconds of life. A thing he truly loved to do, dying or not — to take in the view of Woodell.

One last scan over the fog submerged gabled roofs.

One final glance towards the bell tower beyond them,

poking out from the cloudy surface. One last, breath taking 60

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ view of the mountainous horizon that gradually glowed

brighter as the day went on.

This was all Grant could gather before he was

ripped away from Woodell, and flung into obscurity. 

## Epilogue

When the sun neared its peak, his wife awoke and

stumbled out onto the porch. Her goal was to pull her

husband from his morning ritual so she did not have to cook breakfast. But when she stood in the open doorway to call for him, she stopped, looked and saw that the porch was empty.

Except at the far corner near the railing, where a

pair of broken binoculars, shreds of black fluff, and his slippers laid.

61

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **The Dark Butler**

**I**

In the beginning, it really wasn't anything to worry

about: a stack of dishes cleaned after coming home, the kitchen table would be cleared and wiped down after

dinner, and sometimes before I had the chance, the garbage would be bagged and put outside. In some rare instances, while I was taking a shower, I could feel a sudsy rag

rubbing against my back — but when I turned around,

nothing would be there.

Weeks had passed and it had only gotten worse, in a

positive way, because household chores became a thing of the past. I didn't have the faintest clue how, but the house did them all itself. I would wake up in the morning and find breakfast made, and the coffee pot gurgling away. Other times, I'd walk into the bathroom after a long day of

working outside and discover the tub filled with warm

water, bath salts, and one of my favorite books nearby.

As time went on, I grew curious. Who wouldn't? I

just wanted to know how the tasks were being done, and what or who did them. So, one evening, I sat in the living room pretending to read and heard the sink turn on, and the 62

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ clanking of the dirty dishes I purposely left out being put into the sink.

Silently, I set the book down and crept to the

kitchen's doorway, hoping to catch whatever it was in its act. But as soon as my head peeked out, the dishes dropped from the air, crashing and shattering against the floor, and some shadowy figure molded to the ground and darted

underneath the wall.

It wasn't much, but it sparked my curiosity like a

flame to a wick. Since that night, I gave it a name: The Dark Butler, TDB for short. I spent countless hours trying to catch TDB in the act once more. I would sneak in at night and hope it was mopping the floor, or I would pretend to be asleep and peek through my eyelids, praying for it to be dusting the mantle. In some cases, I became so utterly driven, I would wait outside and look through the windows all night, hoping to catch a glimpse of it, regardless of the annoying insects and the cold temperature.

My goal and curiosity became malformed as weeks

passed. What started out to be a cat and mouse game

transformed into a full blown hunt. It became all that mattered to me, like a dying man in the desert desperately in need of water. I wanted to find The Dark Butler and capture it. I wanted to discover what it truly was, dissect it, 63

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ rummage through its inside, and see what made it do those things.

**II**

One evening, I became restless and in attempt to

settle my mind, I invited a group of friends over. As we sat in the living room drinking wine, classical music faintly playing in the background, Thomas, a man with a mustache much thicker than the hair on his head, asked me how I acquired such an amazing house.

So I told the whole group the story.

"One evening in my then apartment, as I went

through the Buyers and Sellers section in the newspaper, I stumbled upon an advertisement for a house, this house. It was an old house, the ad didn't say how old or who built it, but the ad did say it was built sometime in the 1600s. There was simply an inked photograph, too small to show much details, except for the porch and the large windows. There also was number to call.

"I was desperate to get out the apartment. You see,

the landlord had a stick up her rear, and my neighbors were all young couples with children. So, I thought, what the hell? I dialed the number, spoke to a Mrs. Young, and

agreed to view the house.

64

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_

"The following morning I drove up the long gravel

driveway, parked, and got out, looking at the large, aged, white painted colonial house with a faint blue trim. Upon the porch that extended from the front to the side of the structure, stood Mrs. Young. She was ghostly pale, thin, but strangely attractive. Her hair was blonde and flat, her eyes hazel, and her lips were caked red. She escorted me from my car, through the knee-high grass, into the house.

"To save yourself the details, friends, I'll skip to

after the viewing. The air was heavy with moisture, and the sun was at its peak when we exited. I could hardly breathe as we stood on the porch. She asked me if I was interested.

Of course I said I was, though I think I just wanted out of the sun and get the whole ordeal over with. I had asked her about the house's unknown history, but Mrs. Young either truly didn't know or she played ignorance. Regardless, for the size of the structure and the large yard surrounding it, it was too much of a steal to pass up.

"We met at the house again a week later, to finalize

the sale. When she handed me the deed and other legal

papers, I was quick with my pen and signed on the dotted line. Once everything was said and done, I got into my car and began driving back to my apartment to gather my

things.

65

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_

"Mrs. Young remained there, I saw in the rearview

mirror. She stood on the porch and watched me leave. That image still gives me goose bumps just thinking about it now. Even presently I don't know where she went after I left, and the number in the ad became disconnected. After that day, I never saw her again. She probably moved to Colorado, or Florida, really anywhere people go for

vacation."

My friends were quick with their opinions, stating

that the story was boring. To liven the room up, I quickly changed topics and brought up The Dark Butler. At first they didn't believe me, but despite this, they all had something to say on the matter, grasping at straws of the strange.

Tiffany, a brunette with curly hair and long pale

legs, suggested it could be a demon. A demon that is trying to lure me in, so it can capture me and devour my God

given soul.

"An angel," Joseph, a dirty blonde man that seemed

to stay tan year around, said, "an angel sent from the almighty Himself, to relieve me from the numberless hours of household chores. Although," he added flatly "I don't see why He wouldn't have sent you a servant instead."

66

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ All the other opinions were similar. It could be or

was an angel, a demon, God, or the Devil, so on and so forth. I didn't argue with any of them, although their suggestions possessed as many holes as Swiss cheese. I knew none of them were correct, knowing in my stomach

that The Dark Butler was some type of ghost. A ghost

bound to the house in some unseen and unknown way.

Its likely been around since the building of the

home, or dwelled under the soil before the house even

became a thought. I believed it to be a prisoner, that the cleaning it did was something ritualistic — something it needed to do. If it were your everyday ghost, one who's bound to the living world due to its failure, it could have been a maid, or an actual butler, or even a child with a tyrannical upbringing before its passing.

As the moon slowly rose into the starless sky, my

friends took their leave. I watched as they moved down from the porch, across the stone walkway, some of them stumbling and falling, laughing and giggling. Eventually they got into their vehicles and the designated drivers drove them off into the night.

Regardless of the suggestions given by the group, or

my theories of what it was, or what it is, or what it could 67

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ be, the need to know wasn't relieved, and the yearning to capture it only grew. I stood on the porch for a while, staring aimlessly beyond the gravel driveway into the

shadowy trees, then went inside and slept.

**III**

A month passed, and I ceased going to work to

dedicate all my time on TDB. I had not seen it since that one night with the dishes, but I remained determined. I believed it knew of this and of my plans, but still it continued to clean unseen. For instance, I did not bathe for a few weeks, but I never became dirty. It appeared that it was bathing me while I slept. In another instance, I had not changed my clothes in ages, but they remained as clean as the day they were bought. The queerest thing of it all, one that I simply could not understand, was that the refrigerator stayed full, no matter how much I ate or drank.

I began sleeping in the living room, abandoning the

spacious master bedroom on the second floor. Purposely I would make myself and my surroundings a mess. Despite

this, I never caught TDB. Sometimes I would see a sliver of it each time: a shadowy foot here, a shadowy hand there, and if luck was on my side, a shadowy eyeless head

slipping underneath the wall.

68

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ The moment I caught sight of it, it would slide

across the floor and disappear behind a wall or door. I would chase it across the room but before I could grasp it with my sweaty hands, TDB would vanish. Frantically, I'd check the back of the wall and the connecting room, but The Dark Butler was never there. Either it was slipping between the cracks in the floorboards, hiding down in the cellar, or it went into some place that no human could reach.

It became beyond maddening, and even after three

months, I had made no progress. I seldom slept or ate. All my energy, time, and thoughts were focused on capturing the demon that haunted my home. I no longer believed it was a ghost bound to the soil or the house, but a demon that delighted itself by making curious men insane.

No other options came to mind, so I began tearing

down the walls, one by one, soon after TDB would slide underneath one. By a week's time, there were not any walls on the first floor, only dirtied, white wooden beams that held the house steady. However, even with no walls, the demon still sunk into the floorboards each time I looked in its direction.

69

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_

"Soon," I muttered, sitting in the dust covered living room, "it will have nowhere to run and hide. I will remove all the obstacles in my path. One way, or another."

**IV**

Five months, five months, five tedious and long

months spent hunting the demon that maddened me so. All the walls on the first floor and second floor were torn down, and in the heat of the moment, the stairwell to the cellar was torn down as well. The demon had nowhere to run or hide.

I still stayed in the living room, among the rubble

and ruins of my once beloved home, and the demon

continued to clean what it could and escape my clutches. It became so frustrating on some nights that I wept until I fell asleep. No matter how much I stayed awake, no matter how many times I ran after it, or reached for it, or lunged after its body, I never captured it, nor caught a glimpse of what it truly was. I knew nothing of where it went when it escaped either, despite my endless theories.

Speaking as if I were not alone, I murmured. "There must be a hidden room somewhere. . ."

**V**

70

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Another two months went by, and I had to act

irrationally. I had to know if there was a secret room on the second floor. And the only way to ensure there was not, was to remove the entire floor. Which, after hiring a

construction crew, I did. The dismembered part of the

house was placed out on the lawn, in a pile of sunken

rubble.

I was incorrect, I discovered. There was no secret

room on the second floor. I thoroughly checked every

corner and floorboard on the first floor, ensuring there was not one there either. Thus, through the process of

elimination, I believed it to be in the cellar. It had to be!

Pulling myself from the heap of trash I sat in, I

moved into the kitchen, and looked down the doorway that lead to the basement. Surprisingly, it was as clean as the day I purchased it, with the exception of the ghostly lines on the far wall, where the stairwell once was.

I jumped down and fell onto the cold cement.

A few moments later, I stumbled to my feet, and

crept around the basement. I searched the walls, the ceiling, and the floor for any buttons or levers that might trigger a secret door or hallway or even a false wall, leading to the demon's lair.

71

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ As I groped one wall to the next, I could hear and

feel it behind me. It was like a cold autumn breeze on the back of my neck. I felt The Dark Butler watching,

inspecting, waiting to spring upon my body the moment I found the key I had been so desperately trying to discover.

I shuffled to the last wall, then the demon attacked.

It fell down from the ceiling, like an amorphous black blob, its body taking a circular shape as it flew through the air towards me. I leapt to the right and watched the black blur hit the ground. I quickly lurched forward and threw out my hands. My fingers pushed through something that felt like the insides of a cold fish, and that was all. The demon had sunk down into the floor and vanished.

At that moment, a thought that escaped me since the

beginning of the hunt, finally dawned on me. My eyes were weapons, and as long as I could see it, I was safe.

With a bit more confidence, I moved my hands

across the last wall, feeling for any subtle indent that might give way. Coming to the far right corner, my index finger slid over a small bump, like an air pocket under dried paint.

It was too much of a coincidence to not be purposely put there, despite it likely being some kind of unnoticed

mistake made by the builder. I pushed it down, and nothing 72

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ happened. Then I pressed it again and it lowered into the cement. To the left of me, a door slowly swung open.

"Well I'll be damned," I muttered under my breath, as I moved to the doorway and peeked in.

From where I stood, it appeared to go straight, then

hang a sharp right. I debated with myself for a few minutes, uncertain if I should go down the dark corridor or not. I decided to throw caution to the wind and started down it.

Only the faint light coming from the second story fell a foot or so into the dark hallway.

In seconds, I found myself in complete blackness.

**VI**

There were dozens of twists and turns after the first

sharp right. Eventually, after staggering through the black corridor for what felt like hours, I came upon a small square room. Perhaps it was a queer study Mrs. Young or the previous owner used at one point or another. A burning oil lamp hung from the ceiling, casting faint light on a pile of aged, dusty tomes carelessly placed on the floor. A worm-eaten table stood against the western wall, and

embedded in the floor below the far wall was a trap door.

Sweat covered my brow and my knees felt like they

were being pricked with needles, but I continued on. First I 73

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ knelt, picked up a few of the books and flipped through them. They were untitled and the pages were blank. It

appeared they were so old that the ink had evaporated.

Moving from the pile, I went to the table, but the only notable details were it being worm-eaten and a green mold grew on its underside. I checked the rest of the room: the ceiling, the floor, and the corners. I did this before engaging the trap door, strangely knowing what I desired dwelled underneath its steel frame.

The room was small, and my procrastination was

short. At last, I found myself kneeling in front of the trap door, gripping the cobwebbed covered iron handle and

wrenching it open with all my strength. The door gave a metallic shriek as I pulled. When it was opened, I peered down into the hole beneath and all I could see was a ladder that descended into nothingness.

As I crouched to move onto the ladder, my hands

refused to stop trembling. My legs shook terribly while I climbed down into the blackness, quickly realizing that some of the ladder's rungs were missing. More times than I would like to count, I nearly fell backwards into the abyss, but I steadied myself, gripping the ladder tightly, and cautiously made it to the bottom. When my feet touched 74

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ solid ground, I turned, stood erect and stared into the darkness.

Some light shined down from the oil lamp

overhead, but not nearly enough for me to see very far. My eyes refused to adjust to the lightless room, making it nearly impossible to see anything. Venturing into the

nothingness was not an option, the likelihood of slipping or tripping and falling was high. Thus, I decided to straddle the ladder, preparing to fly up it at any moment, and shout over my shoulder.

"Hello! Is anyone down here? Does the shadow that cleans the house live here? Hello? I have come to meet you, The Dark Butler. I have come to question you, to find out who you are! If you are down here, can you please make yourself present? No harm will come your way, I promise!"

**VII**

Only the sound of my lungs filling with cold, musty

air returned my call for several moments. Despite my drive to find TDB and examine whatever it was, I was oddly

thankful that it or anything else did not reply in that dark place. I began moving back up the ladder, relieved and unsatisfied. Midway, the door slammed shut with a piercing screech, removing any light in the entire room. My eyes 75

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ widened and my jaw dropped. Before I was able to

scramble up the rungs to push it open, something coiled around my ankles and yanked me down onto the ground.

The back of my head somehow cracked against the

cement. My eyes rolled back into my skull and everything became hazy. I could not determine what direction I was looking, nor could I decide if I was being dragged across the floor or the ceiling. I tried to talk but only nonsensical words fumbled out of my mouth like vomit.

Slowly feeling came back to my limbs, and I groped

the ground for anything to hang onto. Nothing was there but the pavement. Desperately, I dug my nails into the floor, praying it would slow down whatever pulled me. My nails began to chip and break, and I could feel the blood beginning to seep out from underneath them.

I tried to kick my legs free but whatever held me

possessed strength that I could not match. My limbs were useless, my jumbled words were useless, and my prayers were the most useless thing of all.

An unknown length of time dragged on. My eyes

were burning from sweat and tears, the back of my head hurt immensely, and my fingers were bloodied stumps. I was being taken into a smaller room. I felt the cement loom over me, pressing against my body. It was so narrow that it 76

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ touched my waist, forcing me to cross my arms over my

chest.

Finally I found my voice, after trying for so long. I

quickly screamed at the top of my lungs for help, but my pleas were abruptly cut short when the dragging stopped.

My legs still hung in the air, gripped by something I could not see. Before I could start shouting again, the surrounding gloom spoke first.

"You want to know what I am?"

Terrified to the point of wordless gasps, I simply

nodded, though it might not have seen the action.

"I am the thing you have been searching for. The

thing you say is a ghoul, that your friends considered an angel or a demon. I have been here for eons, I came from a place that reaches further out into outer space than your kind have discovered, never will discover. I am everything that keeps the house clean, everything that keeps the house stable. It is a part of me as much as the limbs I grip are a part of you. It is an extension of me, an embodiment."

A suffocating silence swelled in that narrow space.

Then, with a wispy, hollow voice, it continued.

"However, you have destroyed it! You tore its walls down! its floors! its stairs! I tried to rebuild it, but you moved with so much haste! You ripped every ounce of

77

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ muscle it possessed from its bones! In the name of what?

To capture me? You cannot capture me, in as much as you can capture air in your meager fingers!

"You desecrated my body, and rightfully so, I will desecrate yours."

**VIII**

When those words left The Dark Butler, the urge to

escape became far greater than any curiosity I ever

possessed. I needed to run, needed to get away, needed to sprint up the ladder and barricade the trapdoor with

everything I could find. The demon was not something to chase after, it was not something to be captured and

dissected, it was something that should be locked away and never be remembered or spoke of ever again. It was a

monster, an abomination, that somewhere, somehow, came upon this planet and planted its blackened body into the soil, waiting for anything to come along to latch onto. And, the house — this house — became it.

Without a single thought but of escape, I thrashed

my legs about. Over and over again, screaming as I did so, sweat soaked through my clothes and streamed down my

thighs into my groin. I did not know why, perhaps it was 78

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ toying with me, but its grip released and my legs dropped to the ground.

Stumbling to my feet, I turned and shuffled through

the narrow corridor as quickly as I could. Then, when I entered an open area, I ran aimlessly in the darkness.

I cannot say when, but I made it to the ladder and

began frantically climbing up. With every step, the opposite ankle was grabbed and pulled from below. The demon dug its shadowy claws into my flesh and attempted to yank me down once more, but my will to live was far greater than my willingness to die. I used all my strength and energy to pull myself up the ladder.

I made it to the trap door and rammed my shoulder

against its metal surface. It gave and opened just enough for me to crawl through. As I pulled myself out, I kicked my legs to push away the demon. I got to my feet and

quickly moved through the twisting corridors. Blood

soaked through the bottoms of my pants, filling my shoes.

Hobbling into the basement, I immediately began

searching for an exit. Looking to the kitchen doorway

above, I went to scream but grimly remembered I had no neighbors. I heard the door to the demon's lair slam shut, and in a knee-jerk reaction I looked in that direction. I saw 79

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ the demon slide out from underneath the brick wall,

speeding towards me with black claws lurching out from the floor.

Without a second thought, even though I was in

such a frenzy I could hardly even create a singular thought, I quickly limped to one of the small basement windows. I punched through the pane and feverishly started to climb and pull myself through. No matter how tight the window was against my body, no matter how many shards of jagged glass dug into my flesh, and no matter how close the demon was to tearing my legs from my torso, I dug my fingers into the damp soil and pulled.

Only my upper body was outside, the sweet, crisp

night air filling my lungs, but my lower half still dangled in that hellish basement. The Dark Butler's hands stilled coil around my ankles, sinking its claws deep into my skin.

I pulled, God I pulled with as much strength as I

possessed! My hands were entirely submerged in the earth when I heaved the rest of my body through the window,

feeling TBD's grip break away and my shoes falling off.

Not taking any time to relish the escape, I got up and half-ran, half-limped across the lawn. Even though I no longer cared for what the demon was, or what made it do what it did, my curiosity still reared its ugly head.

80

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ To satisfy it, I peered over my shoulder as I ran.

**IX**

Colorless limbs spilled out from all the basement

windows, then swirled up into the air, splitting at each end.

A thousand black tendrils launched out from the end of the limbs, twisting and coiling downwards around the house, like a vortex of blackened lines of cloth, until the entire house was engulfed by the blackness. It took shape before my wide eyes, molding and forming itself into some kind of enormous, colorless rosebud.

I stopped running and stood, dumbfounded.

A high pitched chime rang out through the air, like

a church bell amplified thousandfold.

As if it were blooming, the large black petals began

to peel away, one by one, until the stigma of that hellish flower appeared.

It was the house — perfect, untouched, in the same

condition when it was first built.

After that, I do not remember much of anything. All

I recall is that I turned away from the house and kept on running until I made it into town. I stumbled into the police station, rambling uncontrollably. A nondescript police 81

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ officer escorted me to a seat, sat me down, and asked what happened. I kept on spewing nonsense. He soon grew tired of me, and suggested that he should take me back home, as most townsfolk knew I purchased the colonial house out in the middle of nowhere.

His suggestion jerked me from my obsessive state.

My mind went from one extreme to the next. I leapt to my feet in a frenzy and with wide bloodshot eyes and dirty hair swaying with my movements, I lurched forward and

yanked a pistol from a passing officer's holster. I cocked the gun, pointed the barrel forward and began backing

away.

The officer who suggested my return home sat up

slowly, cautioning with his hands. I did not care what he said, all of it was a garbled mess of sounds to me. All the other officers pulled out their weapons, but I still did not care. All I cared about was not going back to that house, not going back into that demon's domain, not going back to the madness.

The last thing I remember, before I was tackled

from behind, disarmed, and locked in a cell, was screaming at the top of my lungs:

"I AM NOT GOING BACK!

82

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_

"I AM NOT GOING BACK INTO THAT

THING'S BODY!"

****

****

83

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **Once Haunted**

**I**

It was that time of the year again. When the days

were long, the nights were short, and the cold from the north was coming in. The leaves were changing from bright hues to darkened colors, the trees were shriveling up into wooden skeletons, and everything was saying its yearly goodbye to the warm weather.

Halloween was tomorrow. Jack-o-lanterns lined the

streets; witches, spiders, monsters, and zombies were

placed out on the front lawns. Spider webs were stretched across houses, porches, and trees, colored lights were wrapped around banisters and awnings; ghosts and ghouls loomed out of windows, and creatures shrieked and

screamed in the shadows. This was all to serve one

purpose: to scare the unlucky souls who dared to step

across the threshold for an assortment of sweet, sometimes chocolaty, treats. And, this of course, was all done in the name of wholesome, terrifying fun.

I enjoyed haunted houses the most out of everything

about Halloween. Ever since I was a kid, from the first to the thirty-first of October, dad always found me there. Each 84

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ haunt was different from the last, but they all shared a singular theme: to scare the living hell out of you.

But not all of them were great. Some were boring,

cliché, focusing more on the atmosphere and scenery than the actual scaring part. Others were the opposite. The actors were over the top with their jumps, screams and wails, but the walls weren't painted, the floors weren't blood soaked, and their costumes looked like they were bought from the kid's section of a dollar store. Honestly, it looked like a bunch of painted up loons in my parent's basement more than crazed monsters and ghouls in a haunted house.

As time trucked on, the ones that got it right

continued to thrive through the years, becoming sort of like a tradition. For the others that always seemed to get it wrong, never made it to the following year. . . at least if I had anything to say about it.

I ran a column in the _Woodell Gazette_ called "The Haunted Review," in which I would personally review a

haunted house each night in October. The article would give a general idea of the haunt, and at the end of it, I would give my impressions and sum everything up with a number rating. One was bad, ten was amazing, and five

was just fine.

Spending nearly every night in a haunted house was

85

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ my child-self's dream come true, not because I wanted to, but because I had to — and as a bonus, get paid for it. Oh, it wasn't always amazing. You see, there weren't that many haunted houses in Woodell, so a few nights out of week I would travel a town or two over, or if everything within thirty miles had dried up, take the long drive into the city.

Overall, I couldn't complain, I loved it more than

anything else in the world.

**II**

I walked down York Street as the sun drifted below

the horizon, making the sky a vibrant orangish pink. The cracking sidewalk made it difficult to keep a good pace, and the chill on the wind numbed my nose. The laughter of children was faint in the distance, their joy conjuring up better and younger days spent.

I didn't expect to find anything at the corner of

York and Wayne, but my curiosity had gotten the better of me. York Street had been long abandoned. The homes that were once there were torn down, replaced by empty lots of patchy land filled with debris and trash. And from what I could remember, Wayne Avenue, was nearly the same,

except for the dilapidated houses no one dared to live in.

The corner of both streets was about as exciting as

86

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ watching grass grow, and if there was a building put up there, I found it hard to believe that a company could get a haunt up and running within a day's time.

I started to think the tip my coworker gave me about

the haunt was just a joke. But as I neared the corner, the sound of laughter dissipating and the sun almost completely gone, I could see a rectangular silhouette against the last remaining light of the day. Despite my beliefs, I was

thrilled to find something there, it's sometimes great to be proven wrong. Excitement jolted up through my body and with a skip in my step, I ran towards the shadowy building.

The street lamps popped on, one after another, and a

dull white light fell over the front of the maroon brick structure. A curved yellow sign with big, rounded, black letters stood over the entryway, reading: ONCE

HAUNTED. Looking down from the sign to the ticket

booth with darkened glass, a she or he or maybe even an it, asked, "Ticket for one?" She-he-or-it's voice was low, hollow, and the words spoken were drawn out.

"Yes please, thank you." I said with a nod, smiling.

"So, only open once a year? You must get a lot of

customers on Halloween to keep this place going, yeah?"

A purple ticket with swirls of black lines shot out

from the steel-topped counter, and a door to the right of the 87

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ booth creaked open.

Ripping the ticket from the small slot, I said thank

you and started towards the door.

"I hope you enjoy your night at Once Haunted. It's

only open once a year, so if you don't now, you won't have the chance for another three-hundred and sixty-five days."

The she-he-or-it made a noise that sounded like a moan and a laugh combined.

Before I could turn and reply, I found myself inside,

as if I teleported, and the door swinging shut in my face.

**III**

Not giving it too much thought, I turned and

continued into the building. Down a poorly lit, purple painted hallway I went, until I came to a tall, oblong man.

He was more than just tall, he was a giant. He towered over me and his head nearly touched the ceiling. With squinty black eyes, he looked down to me and groaned.

"Ticket, please."

Putting up my hand with the ticket pinched between

my fingers, he snatched it away and punched it into his black suit's pocket. Up until that point, I didn't notice there was anything beyond the giant man, no hallway nor door, but when I looked away from him, a nondescript door had 88

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ appeared to his side.

Nothing new, I thought. Sliding walls and doors

were normal practice in haunted houses, throwing off

perception and sometimes balance. I said thank you to the giant man and proceeded through the doorway.

Only a stairwell, with creaky wooden planks jutting

out from the wall and two black steel beams running down the sides, was beyond. A light bulb dangled down from the darkness above, casting strange shadows across the stairs. It felt like I was simply walking down into a cellar, not entering a haunted house.

When I got to the bottom, I looked over my

shoulder to find the stairwell had disappeared, so had the door. The bulb still dangled from above. More tricks, I thought. A bit advanced for such an unknown haunt, but it's a nice touch and kind of impressive.

Facing ahead again, I continued on, moving down a

narrow corridor made from thin, cheap pieces of black

painted plywood. Somehow the hallway glowed an eerie

green without any visible lights, and the thick air stunk of the ocean.

The corridor made a sharp left, then opened up to

nothingness. I stood before utter darkness. There were no lights, no arrows on the floor for guidance like some haunts 89

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ do. There weren't even subtle glow-in-the-dark splotches of fake blood or green plasma on the walls, ceiling, or floor for some light — absolutely nothing could be seen.

"Well, this is new."

**IV**

After a few moments, I mustered up the courage to

continue on. With my first step into the abyss, relief washed over me. I took another step, then another, soon finding myself submerged in darkness.

The green glow from the corridor couldn't be seen

when I looked back. The stench was much stronger, it was as if I was walking right below the ocean floor. The smell of fish nearly made me vomit, and the feeling of salt was so strong I felt that I needed an hour long shower.

Pushing these things aside, I proceeded straight,

cautiously. I would put one foot out, ensure that I wouldn't smash into anything, then repeat the process. Some haunts had hidden walls or objects lurking in the shadows. For the unlucky few who got their feet ahead of themselves, they would be stopped in their tracks when their shins hit against something solid, or they would collide with a wall. It was all in good fun, so no real harm came to them, but with Once Haunted, I couldn't tell what I'd find hiding in the 90

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ darkness.

It seemed like I had gone nowhere. There were no

exit signs ahead and what laid behind me never changed. I checked my wristwatch, which glowed in the dark, to find it had nearly been two hours since I entered Once Haunted, but it felt like only ten minutes had passed. Sighing, I pushed the hair from my eyes and continued on.

An hour, maybe three, had trudged on and the need

to get out swelled up inside me. A cold sweat formed over my body, my stomach moaned for nourishment, my mouth

and throat were dry, and strangely enough, I found myself bored. Nothing new happened, no scary monsters, no

ghouls screaming their heads off, and not even fake

dismembered bodies hung from the ceiling. It was just

dark, the entire time.

In hopes of getting out faster, I threw caution to the wind and started jogging, then sprinting. The darkness whipped past me like a thick, morning fog. The constant smell of fish and salt only made my drive to get the hell out of there even stronger.

When I extended out my foot, it landed down on a

ledge. Instantly I knew nothing was beyond it, and in a last-ditch effort, I leaned as far back as possible and frantically flailed my arms counterclockwise. But my momentum,

91

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ even with my best effort, was too strong.

And so, frontwards I went. My foot went over the

ledge, the rest of my body following, into the openness of the unknown.

**V**

I don't remember much after that, but what I do

remember was that it was a far drop. Far enough, that is, that I lost consciousness at some point. I woke up on the floor, maybe hours later, strangely unharmed. I tried to stand up, but quickly collapsed, then after a few minutes, I tried again and successfully got to my feet.

Glancing around, there wasn't anything to be seen.

From one end to the other was nothing but darkness. But it felt like the blackness seemed to not simply be there

because of no light, but it chose to be there, as if it dwelled there.

"Hello!

"Hello! Is anyone down here?"

My voice echoed, with no reply. I debated with

myself: Perhaps the fall wasn't a part of the haunted house?

Maybe I stumbled into an unfinished part of the building?

Somewhere I wasn't supposed to be. Or, maybe it was, or maybe — Hell, I don't know, I just want to get out of here!

92

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ I couldn't decide if it was safer for me to stand

there, scream my head off, and pray for one of the staff members to rescue me, or search more and hope to find an exit.

To save my energy, and what little hydration I had

left, I chose the latter. Carefully I moved straight ahead, keeping my arms out and slowly moving my feet, to

prevent from falling over another ledge.

I checked my wristwatch to find it had broken

during the fall. The plastic pane was shattered, and both arms hung over the six like unused pendulums. Undoing its strap, I took it off, shoved it into my pocket and went on.

After a while, I was finally rewarded. At first I

didn't believe it, thinking that it was a hallucination. But as I drew nearer, with my eyes strained, I came to find it was real, as real as anything else in that strange building. It was a well, an aged cobblestone, round, water well, with two wooden support beams jutting out from its sides, and a shingled roof. A loose rope hung onto a small wooden

bucket that dangled from a steel bar connected to the

support beams.

Seeing a well in a room of nothing was utterly

weird, so out of place. . . out of this world. What I found even stranger was that it illuminated the area, somehow 93

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ giving off its own soft white glow. The strangeness and my doubts were washed away when the soft sounds of waves

lapping against stone drifted up from its opening.

Immediately dehydration reared its ugly head. I ran

to the well, undid the bucket and dropped it down into the circular hole below. A crashing sound echoed up, I waited a few moments, then fumbling with the rope, I began

yanking it down.

It came up, water sloshing out from its top and

down its sides. I snatched it with both hands, pulled it over, and began pouring water into my open mouth. Most of it drenched the front of my clothes, but what I did manage to drink was cool, crisp and like a breath of fresh air.

When the bucket was empty I was surprised I

hadn't drowned myself. Satisfied, with my stomach

bulging, I placed the bucket onto the ground and sat against the well. I looked out into the darkness, wondering what to do next.

I soon found that I didn't have to decide anything.

Something already had plans.

**VI**

My stomach groaned, but I thought nothing of it.

Then it groaned and groaned, and groaned again. I lifted 94

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ my shirt up and looked to my bloated abdomen to find that it was not simply making noises, but moving.

A sudden sharp pain shot through my body, forcing

me to topple over. I gritted my teeth and gripped my

stomach with both hands. I believed it was simply

indigestion, so I began rubbing my stomach, thinking that would help.

When my stomach rippled, I flung my hands up and

looked down with wide eyes. There were hundreds of

waves coursing under my flesh, like after a stone is thrown into a still pond. I didn't know what to do or think, it was like a horror film. Something was moving inside me, as if some kind of snake slithered underneath my skin.

The waves began to swirl, twist, turn, and take an

amorphous shape. An uncontrollable trembling took hold over my body, my eyes stung, and my throat was

immediately hoarse. I believed that whatever was inside me was going to rip out through my flesh, leaving me to die in a pool of my own organs and blood.

My mouth opened and grew as wide as possible

without my consent. I raised my head, and looked up into the nothingness above. I felt like a puppet being controlled by an invisible puppeteer. My neck throbbed with pain as my throat opened. It reminded me of the morning after a 95

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ night of heavy drinking, the horrible, tingly feeling before vomiting washed over my body.

A fishy, salty, and oddly tangy liquid gushed up

through my throat and surged out from my mouth. It was some kind of black liquid, dissipating in the air a foot or two above me. Tears streamed down the sides of my face, and snot bubbled and oozed out from my nose. The veins in my arms became enlarged as I attempted to grip the floor for support. My stomach emptied, little by little, deflating like a balloon losing air.

As if time stood still while I puked uncontrollably,

it began again when it stopped. All my energy left with the strange black liquid, and the world became fuzzy and spun around me. I collapsed onto the ground, my face covered in sweat, mucus, and tears. Faint in the distance, behind a veil of black fog, I could see something moving — no,

slithering — in my direction.

While it came closer, I wanted to get up and run,

wanted to scream, or if nothing else, wanted to protect myself with my arms, but I couldn't move. I couldn't even budge. I simply laid there in a daze watching as it inched closer. The nearer it came, the blurrier it became.

Before my brain could even figure out what it was,

a black curtain fell over my vision, and I fell unconscious.

96

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ **VII**

When I slightly opened my eyes, I found myself

being dragged by the collar of my shirt. I attempted to glance over my shoulder, to see what was pulling me, but it proved to be too much. When I struggled to look, I fainted again.

The next time when the world came blurrily back

into vision, I didn't lose consciousness. I was in a dingy room. A lamp hung from above, its yellow light giving

everything a sickly glow. The room was bare, possessing only empty wooden walls and a single brown door. An old wooden table, that looked like it would break if touched, stood to my side.

I tried to get up, to move towards the door, but I

quickly realized I couldn't.

I looked down to find I was tied to a chair. My

wrists and ankles were tightly bound with some type of leathery black rope. Fear immediately swelled up inside me and I became frantic. I jerked and writhed, pushed and pulled in hopes the seat would fall over and break. With every moment, a sharp cutting pain shot up from my wrists and ankles.

The rope burned and ripped through my flesh, blood

began seeping out between the two. Perspiration covered 97

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ my entire body and an unrelenting burning sensation began to creep up my limbs. It was excoriating and felt like someone held a flame under my skin. I couldn't hold in the scream any longer. It seemed holding it back made it only hurt worse than allowing it to erupt freely. I screamed out in agony as loud as I could, saliva spitting out into the air and tears rolling down my face.

The door knob suddenly turned and the door was

pushed open, moaning on its hinges. My screams stopped and were replaced with pleas for this unknown person to help me, even before I could see who it was.

When it entered the room, I stopped talking,

stopped begging. I couldn't decide if it was a tall man or tall woman dressed in a black suit, something you'd wear to a funeral. Upon its head hung a big, sagging, black burlap sack that covered the entirety of its face, neck, and chest. It slid into the room, carefully closed the door, then glided over to the table.

There it sat down, not on the table, chair, or floor. It simply sat onto the air as if it were solid. I continued to hold back my screams. I prayed it somehow didn't notice me across the table. Even while silent, it did. In some strange way I knew that it knew of my whereabouts since I stepped foot into Once Haunted.

98

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ Sitting on air, its head rotated, as if on a gear, then ceased moving when it faced me.

**VIII**

It raised its arms and set them onto the table, where

its hands slithered out from the coat sleeves. Yellowed and decaying, they rested on the wooden surface, all the while its head never budged away from me.

Faint in the distance I could hear a sound, a ringing

sound, like a church bell.

Then, that is when I truly believed I had lost my

sanity and sunk into some maddening obscure world where no sane soul stepped foot in.

A light began to form beyond the black hood,

pulsating and glowing. Blue, purple, white, and black hues began to breathe, twist, and swirl from underneath the burlap, like the formation of some kind of black hole.

Tiny specks of white appeared around the miniature

black hole and began to sink into nothingness. One by one, the miniscule stars popped into existence, zipped across the blackness within the hood, then were devoured by the small black opening.

The chiming continued in the distance, closer and

clearer.

99

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ It mesmerized and terrified me all at the same time.

My eyes were wide, my jaw hung open, and my mind

drowned in the waters below the surface of sanity. I

couldn't help but to scream, couldn't help letting out everything that I held at bay for what felt like an eternity.

The taste of blood was strong on the back of my tongue and my throat burned.

I couldn't look away from the break of reality that

was placed beyond the hood. With every falling star that sunk into the blackness, my eyes followed.

The chiming became louder, so incredibly loud. I

could feel its vibrations in the air, passing through the door, reverberating off the walls, echoing down into my ears.

Whatever it was, it stood right outside the room.

The hooded person reached over the table and

grabbed my forearm. It hunched over and pulled me in,

close enough that if I wanted to, I could kiss its hood. The colors of space glowed hideously over my face. I could hear the black hole swirling, breathing, and I could hear the stars forming, like bubble wrap popping, then rip across the darkness and enter nothingness.

The door slammed open, shattering into pieces

against the wall. My vision finally broke away from the black hole, to look at what entered the room. It was

100

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ something, something that even now I cannot describe or hardly remember. How can you describe something without any shape, or form, or reason? It's like my mind saw

something that it couldn't comprehend.

Liquid colors suddenly flooded from the doorway,

crashing against my legs, and filling up the small room.

Something underneath the multicolored water grabbed my ankles, and ripped me from the chair. As if they weren't truly there, my limbs moved through the ropes and I was pulled under. I looked up with wide eyes and watched the hooded person and the thing I cannot describe look down and become smaller and smaller, then vanish.

A spectrum of hues washed over me and danced

over my vision. I couldn't see anything beyond them. I tried to scream, but colors surged into my mouth and down into my lungs. I could taste the grittiness as it seeped through my teeth and over my tongue, and I could feel my lungs expand to their maximum capacity.

Despite all the wonderful colors, blackness was the

one thing I was happy to finally see.

**IX**

Vomiting awoke me. Colors gushed out of my

mouth onto whatever laid below. It finally ceased after 101

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ some time. I didn't move, nor open my eyes, for what felt like an hour. My arms, legs, neck, everything refused to move. It seemed all my energy escaped me when the liquid color erupted out from my mouth. Eventually, my eyes

creaked open, then widened.

Yards away were dozens of women, kneeling in

front of a massive statue. They all wore white gowns that seemed to flow endlessly. They were all brunettes, with hair that fell to their waist or further down. An ivory cloth was tied around each of their heads, covering their eyes, and a strap of ebony cloth was wrapped across their

mouths. A droning, monotonous, muffling moan came out

in steady waves. They were praying, I believed. From what I could see, their hands were clasped together and held in front of their bodies, with barbed wire wrapped around them.

A statue stood beyond them, like a gargantuan

lighthouse among the sea. Upon a throne it sat, crafted from what looked to be copper and limestone. Its arms were

massive, muscular, and its bulky legs seemed to sink into the floor. Its stomach bulged out, resting on its knees.

Above its breasts, masked underneath fatty flesh was its neck, and passed that, was its bulbous, hideous face. Its cheeks were puffed out, and the center of each was carved 102

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ out, like a yawning cave.

Deep, in the shadows casted by the outer rim, I

could faintly see things moving around, speckled with dim phosphorescent light. Looking away, I saw the statue's nose was sunken in, it looked similar to a taint, between the two inflated cheeks. Its eyes were sewn shut, and a white tarry liquid oozed out from between the eyelids, streaming down its sides and dripping onto the floor.

Atop its curved, bald head was a rusted golden

crown. It possessed five points, like turrets on a Victorian house, but instead of pointing up they were embedded into its skull. Black blood seeped out from the punctures and poured down its face, some dripping into the openings in its cheeks, and some streaming down its breasts and massive gut.

The droning of the worshippers abruptly stopped

and a suffocating silence fell over the vast room. Lying there, eyes wide and mouth closed, I watched them. I didn't dare to move or to speak, as if I didn't move they wouldn't notice me.

They all raised in unison, the sound of their body

movements echoing out over the room, like a thick book being slammed shut. They spun around, facing me.

Simultaneously, they raised their wire-bounded hands a 103

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ foot over their heads, and the droning began again. I

couldn't understand a word they spoke, nor could I

comprehend the words with any clarity, it merely sounded like a loud humming.

In the distance, in the cavernous holes of the

statue's cheeks, the phosphorescent things gushed out in the thousands, like waves of blackness with speckles and lines of green. They poured down from its face, over its bulging body and massive arms, and crashed against the floor, then burst across the room.

One by one the worshippers feet were drowned in

the dark creatures, the black straps around their mouths becoming undone and falling to the floor, and one by one they smiled. Tears immediately ran down the sides of their face, dampening the white cloth over their eyes. They

screamed, trembled, and moaned in ecstasy as the creatures crawled up their legs, and into their white gowns. Blood began to gush and pour down their legs. The things that weren't eating, continued to move in my direction.

For some unknown reason that wasn't just fatigue, I

couldn't move. I tried to get to my feet and sprint away, but my limbs felt like they were nailed to the floor. I needed to escape the black beetle-like creatures that flooded the room. Moans of pleasure, screams of ecstasy, my heart

104

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ slamming against my chest, the black things scurrying

across the floor, all became one unified jumbled mess of sounds that I desperately wanted to silence.

I watched this all, heard it all, witnessed as they

moved over the ground, over feet, up legs, through bodies, across the floor that seemed to be attached to my body in such a way I couldn't understand.

Watched as the black waves were only a few feet

away.

Now only a couple inches.

With open eyes and a closed mouth, the torrent of

black monsters washed over me, and began to gnaw on my clothes and my flesh. It felt like millions of pin pricks amplified by a thousand. I held back the scream that was lodged in my throat, but I couldn't hold back the tears.

Just as I was going to let my cries out, regardless of giving the creatures entrance into my body, the stone floor opened up and I began falling. The beetle-like things

vanished as I plummeted.

Like before, like all times before it seemed,

blackness engulfed me.

**X**

Consciousness came back slowly. At first I could

105

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ feel the hardness below, then hear the electric buzzing of a light bulb somewhere above, then the smell of something musty and old around me. A few moments later, I opened my eyes. Minutes after that, I moved my arms. Then, I

pushed myself up to my feet, stumbled and fell against a wall, gripped the wall for support and steadied my body.

After a while, the dizziness left me.

I was in a narrow corridor, with peeling purple

wallpaper, a white ceiling, and a gray carpeted floor with violet swirls. Behind me stood a door, with no door knob, and in front of me stood another doorway. I realized the door in front of me had a sign, yellow with black trim and red glowing text reading: EXIT

As if the gates of heaven appeared before me and I

was ready for salvation, I lunged towards the door, gripped the knob, turned, and swung it open. The door couldn't hold my weight and I crashed through the opening,

tumbling onto the concrete sidewalk outside.

Getting back up, ignoring the sharp pain in my

knee, I found I was where it all began. I moved into the street and glanced around. It was late in the night and the street lamps were on. The sky was cloudless and stars

sparkled under the glow of a full moon.

I turned to the building. The structure must have

106

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ been crafted in Hell and brought up by the Devil himself.

My vision moved down the front of the building, passed the windows near the top, passed the yellow sign, and rested on the ticket booth.

Before I could shield myself, the same colors that

had once filled my lungs, erupted out from the booth,

splashing glass out over the pavement. The multicolored water flooded the street, turned widely and zipped up into the air.

I watched in disbelief, paralyzed by what was

happening. The colors flowed over and down around the

building, over and over again, until all that stood there was no longer a structure made from bricks and cement, but an egg shaped oval of unspeakable beautiful colors.

All at once it sunk, like a balloon deflating at the

speed of light. It smashed down onto the ground, and

submerged itself under the earth.

Everything occurred in the matter of seconds,

despite the feeling it was all in slow motion. The colors were gone, the building had vanished, the she-he-or-it disappeared, Once Haunted was no longer there.

My paralysis broke a few moments later, and I

stumbled towards where the building once stood. Kneeling, I moved some of the liquid color away, discovering a water 107

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_ drain.

"It must stretch to the bowels of the Earth. . ." I

murmured.

I hunched over, closed one eye, and peered into the

drain. What occurred next left me questioning my sanity every since, it forced me to take a permanent leave from the _Woodell Gazette_ , drove me to avoid all haunted houses for the rest of my life, pushed me to the point that I would scream when the word Halloween was even uttered.

And, God, when October reared its ugly head every

year, the only safety I could find was in my apartment, with my doors and windows locked. If a trick-or-treater came on that dreaded holiday, I would always find myself in the corner of my dark bedroom, sobbing.

From that underground pipe, echoed up a low,

hollow voice.

"I hope you enjoyed Once Haunted. We would love

to see you again, next year."

108

_The Stone Man and Other Weird Tales_

****

**About the Author**

Micah Castle is a person who writes short horror/weird fiction. His stories have been published via _Shoggoth.net_ , _Crimson Streets_ , _Horror Bites Magazine_ , and _Aphotic_ _Realm_. You can read his second collection, _Who Spoke on_ _the Other Side_ , on Amazon now!

While away from the computer, he enjoys aimlessly hiking through the woods, playing with his animals, and can

typically be found reading a book somewhere in his home.

You can find updates and free stories via his website: https://www.micahcastle.com

109 
