The Dark Spirits Beneath

by Kason Laufenberg

  The Dark Spirits Beneath

  Kason Laufenberg

  Copyright © 2020 by Kason Laufenberg

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the written permission of the publisher, except for use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  To everyone who perceives more beneath the surface

  Power is the by-product of understanding.

  JACOB BRONOWSKI

  Contents

  Introduction

  Prologue

  1. The Chilling Dream

  2. Familiar Feeling

  3. Expect the Unexpected

  4. Confusion and Mistrust

  5. More Questions, Little Answers

  6. Blind Panic

  7. The Strange Force

  8. In the Middle of the Delusion

  9. No Time to Waste

  10. The Fall

  11. Darkest Place

  12. Terrors of the Night

  13. Secrets and Theories

  14. Aftermath

  Epilogue

  Introduction

  Since she was a young girl, Layla discovered that she possessed an odd, uncanny ability, she can sense the dead, buried just beneath her feet. As one might imagine, this leads to what could be considered by most to be a fairly traumatic upbringing, culminating in her eventual flight as a teenager from her rural hometown in the Pacific Northwest, making a point of actively getting as far away from the dense forests and wilderness as possible.

  Years go by, and Layla finds a new and exciting life in the American Southwest, as a grad student studying archaeology at the University of New Mexico. Utilizing her unique talents in secret to advance herself, and assist her colleagues in locating a handful of valuable finds, Layla insists that she possesses nothing more than instinct and dumb luck.

  However, her advisor, in particular, knows a good thing when he sees it, and asks her to join him, on his research expedition in search of a lost Mayan city, He's convinced that, between his notes and Layla's uncanny insights, that they could be at the precipice of the most important Mesoamerican archaeological find in recent history! But it's Layla's instincts that tell her that there are darker things to be found in the jungle. More than just old pyramids and ruins. Reluctantly, Layla now finds herself once again lost and frightened in the wilderness, a place where survival is the most requested need.

  Prologue

  The afternoon sun bled through the branches and emerald green leaves of the canopy, casting long, meandering shadows. Causing every vibrant corner of the forest to wake and whisper. Each wave, each gentle rise, and fall of the billowing breeze serving only to further perpetuate this aesthetic, inhaling and exhaling, breathing in a cycle of life anyone would count themselves lucky enough to witness.

  Despite all this, the only such person to take in the scene was a young blonde girl, nine years of age, as she traipsed lightheartedly through the wilderness, skipping and leaping from shadow to shadow. She smiled. This... was her forest. Out here, she had always felt most at home. She knew these trees better perhaps than her own backyard. And even in the dim, dusky light, she never faltered, and her strides remaining confident and sure.

  As the young girl ventured deeper and deeper, she had begun to notice, more and more, the thick, green leafy foliage, as it relentlessly overtook the trail, and the thick canopy of trees, effectively blocking out the majority of warmth and illumination to be found. Still, she showed no sign of slowing. No sign of worry. And with her loyal German Shepard, Hillary, trotting close by her side, she knew that here, in this forest, she was always safe. Here, she had absolutely nothing to fear.

  The young, reckless intruder spent her afternoon running down hills, exploring animal burrows, and climbing and jumping from rocks and thick overturned tree trunks, as most young girls her age are want to do. She giggled to herself and took extra care to mind the slick moss that covered most of these climbing surfaces, making sure each of her footfalls landed accurate and true. All the while, watching as Hillary bounded and barked excitedly close behind.

  Slowing her pace for a while, the two companions took a moment to rest, as the girl laughed, and they both panted furiously, straining to catch their breath. In the solitude, the two companions listened, as the enchanting chorus of the birds and the trembling leaves echoed from every corner of the forest. And as the scene and its rich, harmonious song continued to play out, the girl watched as the few remaining shafts of afternoon sunlight danced in playful, complimentary rhythm among the trees and swaying branches.

  She really loved being out here! Here, where everything always seemed to feel so alive. So open. So wild. As if, all her life, she has always had this little world all her own, to explore and adventure in, however she saw fit. Away from the house. Away from that tiny town. Stone Creek. That never felt like her true home. Here... she could be whatever she wanted to be. In an instant, she was a courageous explorer, discovering lost civilizations, ancient ruins, and treasures buried and forgotten in time. Another, she was a brave and virtuous armor-clad knight errant, fighting in the name of honor, riding throughout the realms, perhaps even vanquishing an evil dragon menace, and rescuing the fair damsel in distress. Here, nothing was ever off-limits to her. Because, as the impulsive young girl discovered, a long time ago, in this forest, nestled in the heart of the Pacific Northwest, as it is in so many other little corners of the world--places, that manage to remain tucked away, reserved exclusively for exploration and childhood wonder--those were the places where there would always be real magic.

  After a while, the two adventurers slowed to catch their breaths again, and, assessing their location, the young girl quickly realized that they'd come to the familiar part of the trail that crosses Stone Creek, the town's namesake, and a tiny flow that didn't even warrant a bridge to get across it. She grinned and gave Hillary's head a quick scratch of reassurance. And without skipping a beat, took a running jump, and attempted to leap playfully to the other side. Slipping a bit, though, the girl actually found herself landing, rather roughly, on the rocks, causing her well-worn, pink tennis shoes to plunge into the mud and cold running waters. The girl let escape a single, startled scream, before bursting into laughter, causing the unseen flock of birds in the trees overhead to flutter and disperse with the sudden disturbance. Continuing to regain some of her composure on the opposite bank, the brave explorer gave her damp jean-clad legs a quick shake, attempting to stomp off some of the mud and moisture, which indirectly allowed Hillary a chance to much more gracefully catch up.

  Taking another moment, the girl's smile abruptly faded, and she grumbled to herself, instantly feeling so much heavier, as she recalled what her mother had said earlier. She made the girl promise before she ran out the door this morning not to venture too far out past the creek today. It was late, she said, and dinner was going to be ready soon.

  But today, for whatever reason, the girl's adventurous nature was obviously not in any mood to be contained, and she found it especially difficult to follow these boring, though well-meaning directions. Besides, she already knew it would be dark soon. She wouldn't go far. It's not like she was going to get lost. Not in her woods.

  In newly mud-soaked shoes, she trudged on, leaves and twigs crunching underfoot. Deeper and deeper, however, she eventually does find herself in a part o
f the forest she wasn't yet as familiar with. She found herself stumbling into the entrance of a clearing opened up before her. A clearing blanketed by splotches of emerald green and piercing blue wildflowers. And as she does, she instantly noticed a few other things. She noticed that the birds had stopped chirping, and the darkness had begun to advance all around, save for a lone column of amber sunlight, piercing through the trees above. Hillary growled, and pressed her weight into the girl's legs, urging her to turn back, as the animal nervously continued pawing at the ground.

  "It's okay, girl. It's okay."

  Giving the frightened animal a few more reassuring pets, and taking a deep breath, the girl left the comfort of the darkness, taking a few careful steps out into the mysterious open area. Leaving the apprehensive dog behind to whine, anxiously. The girl shut her eyes and clenched her trembling hand tight around a silver Saint Christopher pendant hanging on a chain around her neck. Hesitantly, she crossed into the lone shaft of light, and in an instant, the safe world she knew was gone, and she finally began to understand the fearful apprehension of the animal behind her. Because in this clearing, a sharp, aggressive wave of anxiety even now began to wash over her, with reckless abandon, overwhelming the young girl completely. And she stood there, eyes trembling, rigidly transfixed. As if her feet, and the rest of her body, were suddenly, and alarmingly frozen in place.

  And it was more than that, too. As unease and panic began to set in, the girl could feel some sort of unseen force, reaching out and grabbing hold of her. And a strange... warmth?... coming up from the soil beneath where her frozen feet were affixed. She tensed up all over, as the sensation gripped her with what can only be described as a pure, unfiltered terror, coming from someplace deep down inside. A terror that took hold, and refused to let go. Her pulse involuntarily began to quicken and her breathing shallowed, frantically, and for some reason unknown to the girl, at this moment, she had never felt more afraid in her whole life. The one thing she did know was that this time, maybe, her mother was right. Maybe, she did finally adventure too far.

  The frightened girl's eyes dropped down to her wet, mud-caked shoes, which now felt as if they were suddenly made of lead. And somehow, she just... knew. Knew there was... something. Something beneath. Something giving off that strange and unnerving warmth that made her feel so indescribably afraid, and, for some reason, unfathomably sad.

  After what felt like an unblinking eternity, the panic-stricken girl finally broke somewhat from the strange stupor, though not at all from the overwhelming wave of fear. She dropped to her knees, placing a hand on the moist soil between her knees, and the vivid, and unsettlingly verdant vegetation. There was no doubt about it. Right now, this weird, indescribably warm energy was radiating up, rising from beneath her feet, enveloping her completely.

  What... What is this?

  I... I'm not crazy... am I?

  She didn't know exactly how, but something within her just knew that there was something buried there. Something... dark.

  And apparently, that was enough, because, in an instant, she couldn't explain why, but she just started to dig. She had to know what was buried there. She had to know what it was, at all costs. Her hands feverishly clawed at the soil, the cold, unforgiving dirt wedging its way deep under her fingernails, causing them to sting and ache. But she didn't care. She had to know. Even though, a part of her already did. Even though, a part of her hoped that she was wrong.

  The mound of dirt behind her grew larger and larger. And as she continued to work, she could feel silent, inexplicable tears begin to stream down her flush cheeks.

  Why... Why am I so sad?

  Still, she continued to shovel with her blackened hands, a girl possessed, in a pained, desperate effort to deepen the hole and find out what might be buried beneath. All the while, poor Hillary could be heard from the tree line, still whimpering and looking on at her master anxiously, though not daring to set foot into the light, herself.

  Down, down...

  Is this ever going to end?

  Maybe I actually am going crazy.

  But as the hole deepened further, she seemed only to come to the dawning realization that, truly, nothing seemed to be there. Nothing, but dirt, and more dirt, until...

  The girl froze, as her fingertips grazed something. Something that definitely wasn't just more dirt. Something that was solid, though soft. Her heart leaped into her throat, and the blood in her veins instantly ran icy cold, as slowly, methodically, she resumed in brushing away the soil from this one exposed part of the hole, the part that was directly beneath her frozen feet. All the while, as she worked, the terror-stricken girl never once broke her trembling gaze on the spot. Cautiously, she looked on in horror, as inch by inch, the fear, and her dark suspicions were sadly confirmed.

  She held her breath, as the black soil eventually gave way, to reveal something the girl didn't even want to see. To reveal a modeled gray nose, followed by a pair of delicate, purple lips, full, ashy cheeks, and a pair of sunken, closed eyelids with long, swooping lashes. He could have been asleep if she hadn't known better. Too frightened to speak, too frightened to scream, all the terrified girl could seem to do was take all of it in. To stare in horror at her macabre discovery. The discovery of a corpse. A child. A young boy, no older than herself. Freshly buried, though with plenty of time to decompose to the point of being void of any remaining living humanity.

  I know who that is, don't I?

  Blinking to her senses, the girl moved to plant a trembling hand on the ground next to the grizzly find, making a motion to slowly rise to her feet and figure out what to do next, or just to remember how to scream again. Or maybe just run home. Back to her mother's overly cautious arms. Something--anything!

  Unfortunately, she never got the chance to do any of that. As suddenly, the eyes of the rotting corpse boy blinked open, revealing a milky, glassy gaze. He turned his head sternly to face hers, staring at his discoverer with dead, cold eyes. His hand shot out of the dirt that had buried the remains of his body, gripping the girl's planted arm in an instant, with enough force that she found herself unable to free herself, though not for lack of trying. From somewhere behind her, she could hear the sound of Hillary, barking and growling frantically, as all the terrified girl could do was watch in horror at this nightmare scape unfolding before her unblinking eyes.

  This decomposing corpse, this boy... he seemed to be struggling to say something now, with deadly importance, though no sound was escaping his lips. The increasingly frantic girl had no idea what he was trying to say, nor did she care. Not right now. She could feel the torrents of frightened tears streaming down her own pale cheeks, as at this moment, all she desperately wanted to do was run away. To forget about these woods, and never come back. And as her failed attempts at escape never ceased, her eyes remained locked, never breaking from that of the dead child.

  She watched on, as those silent pleas slowly, eventually grew into an airy, violently desperate whisper. But the girl still didn't care, and continued to sob in absolute terror, all the while, still pulling in vain to wrench her arm back from the macabre vision before her. Even though now she could make out what the terrible visage was saying. Clear as day. It was... repeating. Repeating the same words, over and over again:

  "Help me... Layla... Help me..."

  And that was finally enough. Through pained pleas in response, and fits of still frantically trying to free herself, the girl finally found the words to scream out, "No! No, go away! Stop it! Stop it, please! Leave me alone!! "Leave me alone!!!"

  Chapter 1

  The Chilling Dream

  "Layla, calm down... I just asked if you could help with the digging for a bit!"

  The familiar voice of James successfully snapped Layla out of the chilling dream. Out of her nightmare trance, as her head shot up with a sudden start. No longer asleep and face down on the red composition notebook lying across her lap. No longer had that of a child lost in the woods.

  That w
as so long ago.

  Why do I still keep having that dream?

  "What... Don't tell me you fell asleep again," James continued to berate her, unphased by her obvious confusion, as Layla strained to regain her mental faculties.

  "What... no... I was just..." she stammered, her thumb tracing the lines of the Saint Christopher medallion, hanging on the gritty chain around her neck. Slowly blinking her way back into reality. Taking on the task of struggling to look as if she was simply resuming her place, amid the messily jotted notes, though she knew her effort would undoubtedly be in vain. The only thing on the page, after all, were mostly cutesy little doodles of cacti and Kokopellis. Layla grimaced and scrambled to cover those up as well.

  Wincing a bit against the blinding afternoon sunlight, Layla could feel beads of sweat continuing to form at her temples. She could taste the dust in the air surrounding her and the rest of the archaeological dig site, as she brushed a thin layer of it off the top of her notebook page.

  And though most of the sounds of wildlife might have been particularly scarce at the moment, what could be heard was the faint, tinny sound of music, rising above the din. It was a familiar song by Vertical Horizon, one of her mom's old favorites, playing from a Bluetooth speaker linked to Layla's phone, and her 90's alternative playlist. The lead singer's breathy voice filled her ears, as it resonated from the black cylinder, perched with care atop the edge of the archaeological test pit. Producing music, which served the primary function of breaking up the awkward silence and the monotony of the tense, and disgruntled pair while they work. Piercing the air, it carried out in sharp contrast to the setting, the melody succeeding in serving this purpose, in addition to recklessly shattering the noiseless vacuum that defined this arid, drab desert landscape.