Read Online Four Corners Dark: Horror Stories by William McNally - Free Book Online
Authors: William McNally
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can bury this hag,” Edmund answered.
They rode into Silverton, eleven men, twelve horses and three mules made up their makeshift procession. Townspeople peered out from shop windows as they passed. They didn’t expect a celebration having cleaned up the Indians’ problem not Silverton’s.
The men dismounted and unloaded shovels in a vacant field near the town’s cemetery. Two of the men began digging and created a shallow grave. Edmund unrolled the tarp letting the body tumble into the grave. The blackened eyes of the corpse were open and staring.
The first shovel of dirt went over her eyes.
“Enough to give you the creeps,” said one of the men as he piled dirt into the grave.
“Quit your talking and fill that hole,” Edmund yelled at the man.
After the men finished filling the hole and tamping down the burial mound, Edmund instructed them to dump the sacks of stones onto the grave. The men untied the heavy burlap sacks and dumped the stones evenly across the grave. Edmund approached the grave, unbuttoned his trousers, and relieved himself.
“Remind me not to invite you to my funeral,” one of the men yelled out which elicited nervous laughter from the men.
“All of the eleven men involved,” Joseph said, “were dead within a month of the burial.”
“How did they die?” Abby asked.
“Accidents and arguments mainly. I understand two men died in a gunfight over money, a few others were killed in a mine explosion. No one knows for sure what really happened to the rest of them. After that, the town fell on hard times and people headed south and gave up on the town altogether. According to tribal lore the Raven Mocker will only hunt on tribal lands, but these people scared easily and blamed the town’s misfortune on the stoning. They believed that the worst was yet to come. In time, people did come back and the town began to prosper again but you will find that even today, few people stay after dark.”
Joseph hit the brakes of the ATV and brought the vehicle to a stop, a burning tree lay across the path fifty yards ahead.
“Hold on,” Joseph shouted as he spun the vehicle down an incline and into the depths of the forest. He stopped and hung a medallion, similar to the one Abby had found, from the roll bar of the machine.
“This will provide a small bit of protection,” he said.
Abby held the swinging medallion as Joseph raced the ATV deeper into the forest.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A fter a few pained steps, Terry sat down and pulled off his boot. His ankle was swollen and flexing his foot caused a searing pain to radiate up his leg.
“Help,” he yelled. His calls went unheard, muted by the dense woods.
He fashioned a makeshift walking stick and managed to get on his feet. Lost, with neither sun nor stars to guide him, he limped along for several hours until he found a cabin. Warm light emanated from the windows and smoke rose from a stone chimney. A young Indian woman sat on the porch and stared silently at Terry.
“Hello,” he said hobbling towards the porch. “I’m sorry to trouble you. I’ve had an accident and need help.”
The young woman stood and silently gestured towards the open door of the cabin.
“Thank you. My name is Terry James. I live nearby.”
Terry limped past the woman and into the cabin. She gestured for him to sit at a small wooden table near a fireplace.
The young woman ladled a bowl of hot broth from a cast iron pot and placed it in front of him. He ate the warm broth, as the young woman gently picked sticks and leaves out of his hair. Suddenly his spoon turned cold and the broth putrefied in the bowl. He saw the hideous creature behind him in the oily reflection of the gruel.
He tried to get to his feet only to be slammed backwards in the wooden chair. The misshapen corpse of an old woman spiked its nails into his shirt and began to twist. He pulled a poker from the fire and plunged it into the creature’s neck. The cabin filled with the smell of
They rode into Silverton, eleven men, twelve horses and three mules made up their makeshift procession. Townspeople peered out from shop windows as they passed. They didn’t expect a celebration having cleaned up the Indians’ problem not Silverton’s.
The men dismounted and unloaded shovels in a vacant field near the town’s cemetery. Two of the men began digging and created a shallow grave. Edmund unrolled the tarp letting the body tumble into the grave. The blackened eyes of the corpse were open and staring.
The first shovel of dirt went over her eyes.
“Enough to give you the creeps,” said one of the men as he piled dirt into the grave.
“Quit your talking and fill that hole,” Edmund yelled at the man.
After the men finished filling the hole and tamping down the burial mound, Edmund instructed them to dump the sacks of stones onto the grave. The men untied the heavy burlap sacks and dumped the stones evenly across the grave. Edmund approached the grave, unbuttoned his trousers, and relieved himself.
“Remind me not to invite you to my funeral,” one of the men yelled out which elicited nervous laughter from the men.
“All of the eleven men involved,” Joseph said, “were dead within a month of the burial.”
“How did they die?” Abby asked.
“Accidents and arguments mainly. I understand two men died in a gunfight over money, a few others were killed in a mine explosion. No one knows for sure what really happened to the rest of them. After that, the town fell on hard times and people headed south and gave up on the town altogether. According to tribal lore the Raven Mocker will only hunt on tribal lands, but these people scared easily and blamed the town’s misfortune on the stoning. They believed that the worst was yet to come. In time, people did come back and the town began to prosper again but you will find that even today, few people stay after dark.”
Joseph hit the brakes of the ATV and brought the vehicle to a stop, a burning tree lay across the path fifty yards ahead.
“Hold on,” Joseph shouted as he spun the vehicle down an incline and into the depths of the forest. He stopped and hung a medallion, similar to the one Abby had found, from the roll bar of the machine.
“This will provide a small bit of protection,” he said.
Abby held the swinging medallion as Joseph raced the ATV deeper into the forest.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A fter a few pained steps, Terry sat down and pulled off his boot. His ankle was swollen and flexing his foot caused a searing pain to radiate up his leg.
“Help,” he yelled. His calls went unheard, muted by the dense woods.
He fashioned a makeshift walking stick and managed to get on his feet. Lost, with neither sun nor stars to guide him, he limped along for several hours until he found a cabin. Warm light emanated from the windows and smoke rose from a stone chimney. A young Indian woman sat on the porch and stared silently at Terry.
“Hello,” he said hobbling towards the porch. “I’m sorry to trouble you. I’ve had an accident and need help.”
The young woman stood and silently gestured towards the open door of the cabin.
“Thank you. My name is Terry James. I live nearby.”
Terry limped past the woman and into the cabin. She gestured for him to sit at a small wooden table near a fireplace.
The young woman ladled a bowl of hot broth from a cast iron pot and placed it in front of him. He ate the warm broth, as the young woman gently picked sticks and leaves out of his hair. Suddenly his spoon turned cold and the broth putrefied in the bowl. He saw the hideous creature behind him in the oily reflection of the gruel.
He tried to get to his feet only to be slammed backwards in the wooden chair. The misshapen corpse of an old woman spiked its nails into his shirt and began to twist. He pulled a poker from the fire and plunged it into the creature’s neck. The cabin filled with the smell of
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