There was that sound again, whatever it was it didn’t sound normal. Slowly swinging his feet to the wooden floor, he wished again that he had a working flashlight. The batteries had died a week ago, and he was waiting for the supply run to get more. One of the many things he didn’t like about being a Fire Warden, he was always waiting on someone else to do something. Careful that he didn’t stub his toe onto anything he slid his feet on the floor instead of picking them up to walk. There was no light coming in either, this being a night of the new moon. The area outside the hole in the side of cabin was not even dappled in soft moonlight. No, the area was heavy with darkness, even a bit of a fog covered the area about six or so feet up. He couldn’t pierce the blanket of mist which made everything seem a bit more closed in. He pushed the useless flashlight into his belt feeling better that he was armed with something, even if it was useless.
Taking that extra moment to sniff the air, he wasn’t sure what that smell was, something copper, something far too sweet? He couldn’t place it but that wasn’t a bad thing, or at least he so hoped. “Please don’t let it be a bad thing.” He said to the night. It was at this late time that he knew, just knew that the weird things happened. Nothing menacing ever happened at 2pm on a Thursday.
The stone fireplace still had some embers in it, it gave off the most minimum of light as well as heat but it didn’t do anything for casting light outside. It was though enough light that he could see to put his boots on, so he did. There it was, that sound again, a shuffling, like the leaves were moving in the wrong direction or that dirt was being pushed up from underneath disturbing the night. His imagination went wild again and all he could now imagine were zombies down there at the bottom of his tower. The world had been taken over by zombies and he was the last man left alive on the entire planet.
Making sure to move slowly over to the trap door in the floor he carefully slid the wooden dowel out of the slot that locked the door in place. Nodding, this was the best thing he could do, right? Take a look down there? It took a few minutes, but he did convince himself that this was the thing to do. Slowly he pulled the door up and let it rest on its back on the floor. For half a moment, he did wait to see if the mist from down below crept up and covered the room with a foul green tinged mist. It did not. Taking a small breath, he did half wonder why he thought it would be green. “I am seriously reading way too many horror stories.” Chuckling now, seeing if he could joke himself out of his fears. “Ya know, just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean there isn’t a zombie waiting down there to get you.”
He felt the chill of the night mist as he slowly made his way down the steps to the ground. There were four switchbacks that was far better than the ladders that some of these fire towers had but still made it a work out to get from the top to the bottom. Even worse was carrying the supplies up from the bottom. Last year he had built himself a working crane that could lift up to two hundred pounds of weight. It saved him from carrying things up and down the steps but he still had to go down, load up the flat, run back up the steps and pull the thing up. The Forestry department didn’t have extra money for someone to assist with minor details like getting food to the fire wardens.
At the second from the top of the switchbacks he was fully into the mist now. He could not say for sure if the mist had moved up or if there was now more mist. In this part of the woods a mist like this was not uncommon, it was annoying that it would show up when the flashlight stopped working. He didn’t know though if a flashlight would be much help in the thickness that he was dealing with this night. He did truly miss the moon right now.
The sounds from down below had fallen off. In fact, standing still on the third from the top switchback he wasn’t even sure he heard anything. Stopping, tilting his head so his left ear was pointed down and that same ear cupped he listened as hard as he could. Was that a slurping sound? It sounded like a tongue that was being sucked back in to a person’s mouth that had been covered in could only be, be, blood.
This was not the time to be talking he knew as he made his way down to the bottom and his feet hit the ground. The mist was now just over his head, he was six feet tall, so he at least now he did know he had a clear line of sight. Well as clear as it could be when there was no light. Again, he cursed the dead batteries. It was then too he realized that he had come down all the steps without even a baseball bat or an axe handle for a weapon or protection. Almost putting his hand over his mouth as he was going to complain to himself about his idiocy.
The slurping was louder now that he was closer, all of the other sounds had stopped. It was a constant thing now, repeated till he could not get the visual out of his head that something was gorging itself on blood from inside a body.
The area around the bottom of the tower had been cleared of underbrush, trees, even rocks in every direction for at least three hundred yards. It was meant as a fire break more than anything else. If there was a fire, the structure would be less threatened. It of course would have been even less threatened if the powers that be had made the tower out of metal instead of wood.
There was an old logging road that was used to ferry up the supplies once a month for the warden of the tower and to bring replacement wardens when the time arrived. No one was expected to live isolated for more than thirty days at a time and this was his day twenty-nine.
There was the sound again, it was as if something was pushing through dirt. Pushing up through the dirt? Was something coming out of the ground itself? Slowly making his way, bravely, well as bravely as he could he kept listening to see if he could figure out the sound when his foot hit something, and it was hard. Kneeling, reaching out with his left hand, he felt around and realized it was wood. Feeling some more, it was rough wood, it was a pallet. “Gosh durn it, it’s the supplies, someone dropped off the supplies in the middle of the night when I was sleeping. Why would anyone do that? Wait, if they dropped off supplies where is my relief? Wait… supplies, no relief? That means that I am not getting relieved what the….” He stopped talking as something reared up on and started to growl, he felt the wind push by the end of his nose. “Oh My God, a bear, it’s a freaking bear!”
The bear had been going through the top of the pallet looking for food stuffs, luckily that the whole thing had been wrapped up with a tarp, tied down, and under the tarp it was wrapped again in plastic. The food was going to be safe. Sighing, shaking my head “Just think, I was afraid of one of those fraidy cat bears. The rangers say that they are more afraid of people than we are of them…” It might be true because the bear turned and started lumbering away not that someone had come to claim the food. Taking his time, nodding his head, he knew where the batteries would be stored, and he pushed, ripped the plastic so he could get to them. It was lucky he had brought the flashlight with him, more of a prop than anything else, but he had it.
Pulling the batteries out he loaded them into the flashlight and then switched the torch on. The light sweeping left and right, he saw the tracks left by the bear. Hearing a sound behind him, turning, “Mr. Bear, there is nothing for you here in the least so you might as well go back to your cave.” All he saw at that point was an open mouth and long finger nails that was the last thing he saw as he was over powered and his throat was ripped out and he bled out onto the ground. He didn’t hear the snuffling like noises that came from his stomach being ripped open and his flesh, eaten.
This is a short intro to my Horror story. What do you think? Do let me know, please