Dark Tales for Dark Nights

by Jacob, Angella; Arseneault, Pierre C. ;

  Once the section was completely exposed, the strangest thing came into view. A large metal ring had been buried in the concrete before it had hardened. Somehow the concrete now just fell away from it as if it couldn’t adhere to it.

  “What would be the purpose of something like this anyway?” asked Chester while holding up the ring.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it was to be part of a drain of some sort,” replied Harry as he examined the smoothness of the strange ring.

  “All I know is I’ve never seen rebar like that before. No wonder the floor was cracked.” He picked up the sledgehammer, placed it against the basement wall and said, “Well I say it’s quittin’ time for today. Let’s get some rest for your father’s funeral tomorrow.”

  They went up the ladder to the ground above the open air basement. The house demolition was nearing completion. As they walked to Harry’s truck and climbed in, Chester rolled down his window as he asked Harry: “How’s Becky holding up?”

  Rebecca and Harry Junior had been married for twelve years now. “She’s doing OK. She never really understood dad’s obsession with the Riverton Bigfoot. They grew apart over the years as she thought it was nothing but a waste of time to be chasing legends.”

  Chester opened his lunch box and took out a can of soda. As he opened it he turned his head toward his nephew and said “Well you best get home to her then and get some rest tonight. Just drop me off at Frankie’s. I could use a few cold ones.” They drove down Main Street talking about the wake that would take place the next day.

  * * *

  Across town, the beast was wandering further away from the clearing as it began searching for its next meal. It had been a day and a half since it had last fed. Hunger had begun creeping into its gut earlier that day. The beast squatted down and listened for the sounds of prey that would eventually come. Its large body almost doubled as that of a bear, crouched down on all fours. As the sun’s rays were peering through the thickness of the trees in the forest, the beast reared its head and stood upright in an instant, a grunt escaping its throat. It appeared spooked, something uncommon for this massive creature to experience.

  Standing frozen with apparent confusion, it looked off in the distance, listening for the sound it had heard. It bolted as fast as a deer, its legs making long and powerful strides back towards the clearing. It ran as fast as it could, not a single worry of being spotted by the pesky men it had been so careful to avoid all these years.

  When it reached the clearing, it ran through the thick brush surrounding it, and off to one side where the evergreens and bushes were overgrown. The beast slowed down to a walk and its large hands parted the trees, slipping through these with ease. It spent a few moments in this thick vegetation before emerging again, clutching a plain metallic object in both hands.

  The object appeared to have no seams and the rounded edges shaped it into a distinctive metal cube. As the creature held the box in both hands, it dropped to his knees and sat still, waiting, eyes fixated on it.

  A few moments later, a faint beep was heard coming from the box. A look of human-like desperation spread across the creature’s face. The box emitted another soft beeping sound a few minutes later, and the creature bolted upright. Its eight foot tall frame casting a long shadow all the way to end of the clearing as the setting sun cast its light through the trees.

  As the beast held the box close to its chest, it began walking slowly at first, appearing unsure of which direction to take. As the beeping continued it kept walking, the look of desperation still plastered across its monstrous face.

  * * *

  The Riverton Watering Hole was the local bar where some of the townsfolk would converge after work to enjoy a few brews and share stories and laughs. Chester sat on the bar stool still in his work clothes. He took a few swigs of the cold beer that Frank the bartender had just set down in front of him and then continued telling Frank and a few of the other patrons about the metal ring they had found in the cement at the house. He looked up and said to Frank “It was the strangest thing I’ve ever seen!’ Was a shiny thing considering it spent thirty years in concrete.”

  Thomas, sitting on the stool at the other end of the bar said, “I think you’re lying Chet.” Thomas was a skeptic and naysayer, especially when it came to stories from Flemming men. “Why don’t you show us this here shiny metal ring?”

  Chester chugged down the rest of his beer before he replied. “It’s getting dark now, but we can go see it in the morning if ya really need to see it.” Chester shot a look towards Thomas.

  Thomas got up and walked over to him. He crossed his arms as Chester turned on his bar stool to face him. Thomas continued “Such a liar, just like your brother Harry always was.”

  Now Chester knew Thomas was only talking this way to anger and get a rise from him. He figured Thomas wouldn’t let it go, and he knew what he said was true, so he took up the offer. “Fine then, let’s go.”

  Chester got up and led Thomas outside, his breath quickening from the anger that had started to well up from deep within. Chester got in with Thomas and they drove down the street to the old Dixon house. Thomas grabbed a flashlight from the back of his truck’s cargo box and handed it over to Chester, who was now waiting by the ladder. He descended down to the basement; Thomas followed.

  “It’s right over there.” Chester exclaimed as he swept the ray of light to the centre of the basement floor. They walked over to it and Chester picked up the metallic ring, which was a good three inches thick and about two feet in diameter. He held it up and said “Told ya.”

  The beam from the flashlight shone off of the metal, as shiny as if it had just been polished. Thomas took the flashlight from Chester before he said “What the heck is that?”

  Chester replied, “We found it right there where those weird bends in the rebar were.”

  When Chester turned to show the other man, he noticed an odd faint glow coming from the hole below the crumbling concrete they had started to remove. “What the hell...” Chester was intrigued by the glow and never noticed the widening of Thomas’s eyes.

  “Ch...Ch...Chester!!” said Thomas as he tugged on his arm. Chester turned around again and followed Thomas’s wide stare to a huge silhouette standing just at the edge of the basement, where the ladder stood tall. It was clear that it was no man casting the shadow. No man could be that tall.

  “Holy mother of God!” exclaimed Chester as he stumbled back a few steps.

  The creature jumped down onto the basement floor, making it shake a little as it landed on its two massive feet. Debris from the side walls of the foundation crumbled down and hit the floor with small resonating echoes.

  Thomas cast the flashlight upwards and pointed it directly at the creature, his hand trembling with fear. Chester, mustering up all his courage, stepped towards the wall and picked up the sledgehammer. He hoisted it up in self-defense.

  The creature swatted away the flashlight in Thomas’s hand. It swatted it so hard that Thomas’s right arm tore off at the shoulder. Thomas shrieked for only an instant as the creature swatted again with the same hand, back handing Thomas in the head. This removed his head clean from his body, and it rolled off somewhere in the darkness of one of the basement corners while the body stumbled forward and collapsed. Chester stood frozen in place, his eyes locked on the gruesome scene, trembling in fear. The smell of urine filled the air as the fear he felt overcame his senses and he lost control of his beer-filled bladder.

  The creature walked over to the glowing pile of rubble in the centre of the floor. It did not seem interested in Chester at all, removing pieces of the rubble one by one, until a glowing orb came into view. As the beast busied itself with the glowing object, Chester sneaked up behind him, poised to strike it with the sledgehammer.

  The creature, its senses sharp and accurate, brought out a giant arm and swung it backwards without even a glance
and Chester was sent flying across the basement. His body smashed against the cement wall with brute force, the sound of breaking bones filling the silent summer air. Chester slumped to the floor, dead before his body slouched against the concrete. The beast reached into the hole in the floor and with two massive hands it pulled out a faintly glowing white orb. The orb pulsated as if alive.

  The creature picked up the metal ring and in two steps it leapt clear out of the basement, running at an incredible speed through the peaceful streets. It ran past Wally’s Hardware Store and then out in the field behind the store. It ran as fast as it could towards the woods just beyond these fields. Once it reached the woods, it kept running until it reached the clearing. Running straight into the thick brush, the glowing of the orb brightened. The trees and evergreens were illuminated by the glow, casting strange shadows all around the forested area.

  The unusual shadows were no match for the displacement of the peculiar looking triangular shaped craft that stood on three legs. The shiny metal that covered the craft perfectly matched the metal of the ring that the creature had looped around its arm as it ran. The hairy creature swiftly crouched underneath the craft. Its giant hands grasping the orb and pushed it upwards into a hole in the craft’s underside.

  As the creature let go of the orb, it seemed to be suspended in midair. The creature placed the ring over the orb and began twisting it into place. A snap-like locking sound came about and at that very instant the craft seemed to come alive. All the seams in the craft glowed faintly, emitting a soft white light from every line and fissure. Without hesitation, the creature stepped out from the underside of the ship and proceeded to climb into an opening on the side. As soon as the creature had boarded the craft, the doorway closed, sealing itself shut. A few brief moments later the ship shot upwards so quickly that anyone nearby would have easily mistaken it for a flash of summer lightning.

  * * *

  Harry put his arm around his wife’s shoulders as they sat on their beige couch, still wearing the dark attire they wore for Harry Senior’s funeral a few hours prior. Susan turned on the TV and tuned it to the local news.

  “I can’t believe I just buried my dad and now I have to bury my uncle too.” He looked at his wife with tired eyes. He pulled her closer and rubbed her shoulder to comfort her. “What did the Sheriff say?” she asked. “Do they have any leads on who killed Chester and Thomas?”

  Harry brushed a strand of her blonde hair off her forehead. “Not yet. If they do they’re not sharing with the rest of us anyways. When I went to identify the body they seemed pretty baffled as to who would do something this gruesome in Riverton. My guess is that it was probably an outsider. Hey there it is, turn it up a bit.” Susan reached for the remote and turned up the volume as the reporter began her news report.

  “Amanda Lessante here, reporting from Riverton. The small town was first saddened by the passing of a well-known local man but is now in shock at the news of two gruesome murders that took place less than twenty-four hours ago in this small, close-knit community. Harry Flemming Senior was a man known by many, near and far. It was just about thirty years ago that the local man put Riverton on the map when he claimed to have found evidence of not one, but multiple creatures that became known as the Riverton Bigfoot.”

  Susan sighed heavily and rolled her eyes at Harry. “Of course they are going to mention that. Why can’t they just let him rest in peace without bringing up the monsters?” Harry shrugged at this and turned up the volume a bit more as the TV now showed a very large foot print in soft gravel. Harry recognized the hardware store from the red and white signage on the building. The reporter continued on.

  “Fanatics of the Riverton Bigfoot legend that were in town for Mr. Flemming’s funeral came across what they claim to be a footprint that could have only been made by a very large, two legged creature.” On screen, a man dressed in a camouflage jacket and steel toed boots measured the footprint.

  “That there’s a Bigfoot print and ain’t no one that’ll tell me different. See how big it is and how wide the stride woulda been? There ain’t no man in Riverton that woulda been able to do that, least not that I know of.” Wally, the hardware store owner stood beside the print and the man with the measuring tape. He stood over the print, hands on his hips while the reporter brought the microphone to him.

  “After Al here found the print, I looked over the video footage from my security tapes and I think I might have something.”

  Amanda Lessante raised an eyebrow. “What did you find, exactly?”

  Wally pointed to the video camera that was mounted on the side of the old building. “Well, the quality ain’t there, but you can definitely make out the outline of a very big creature running past the building here in that direction. It’s hard to say exactly what it is but it sure ain’t human, that’s for darn sure!”

  “Let’s take a look at what the video shows and you can decide for yourself what to make of it,” said the reporter. The grainy video that came onscreen showed a bright glow in the centre and the barely visible outline of a large, possibly two legged silhouette running past the store.

  “Upon hearing about the murders from witnesses at the crime scene, I interviewed the local police department and here is what they had to say about the murders.” Harry turned up the volume again as Susan placed her head against her husband’s shoulder. They listened to Sheriff O’Keefe onscreen.

  “We can confirm that two bodies were discovered at a house that was partway through demolition. Foul play is definitely suspected, as the scene did show a clear indication of struggle. Excessive force and violence also played a part in the homicides. We have no suspects as of yet. That’s all I’m at liberty to say at this point. Thank you.” The Sheriff stepped away from the reporter as she turned to face the camera.

  “One thing that is certain is the uncertainty of what exactly happened last night in Riverton. Locals and visitors alike have been sharing their views of what they believe might have happened. Let’s listen to what some of them had to say.”

  The image on the screen showed a close-up of a man dressed in coveralls and a ball cap with the caption onscreen reading “Local farmer believes Bigfoot stories”. The man pointed to his barn and recounted his experience. “All I know is that something kept coming to my farm to steal some of my sheep at night, both in winter and summer. I suspected a coyote until I found a rather large print myself once, in the snow. There is no creature known to this area with a print that size, and that’s that. I know what I found and that’s all that matters to me.”

  Susan shook her head, disgusted. “Why do they encourage this? I thought this whole thing would just go away once we buried your dad. Now it’s just starting all over again. I’ve seen enough.” She started to get up but when a man wearing a business suit and a very serious look appeared on screen she sat down again and listened. This time the caption read “Skeptic needs solid proof.”

  “Having disproved several cases of alleged Bigfoot or Sasquatch sightings, this one does not seem to hold any more proof than any other. One man’s storytelling skills stirs the rumour mill and eventually the rumours become so called “facts”, with nothing more than part of a print in some dirt. Show me some DNA. Genetic proof that this is a species that has never been documented by scientists and then we might have something to go on. This is simply another attempt to re-stir the rumour pot in my professional opinion. Nothing more than an attempt of a cruel last joke at the expense of a man who was set on making this hoax of a story about Bigfoot appear real.”

  Susan sighed and got up from the couch. Harry watched her walk away. He was saddened by her apparent disappointment that all this negative attention attached to their family was once more her reality. Harry got up to turn off the television but listened to the last part of the news report. It was an older couple wearing Bigfoot souvenir T-shirts and caps. The woman spoke while the man nodded his approval.
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br />   “Jerry and I camped out in the woods here while on a road trip back in the day when Mr. Flemming first recounted his findings. We felt something in those woods that night and heard very strange noises coming from the dark. I knew there was something there. I could feel it watching me that night. We come back every year but we don’t stay near the woods. Not since that night. Bigfoot is real! One day everyone will believe!”

  The reporter returned to the screen, microphone in hand. “The Riverton Bigfoot. Is it a hoax or is it real? A town divided over this question for decades and still appears to be divided today. Perhaps one day the legend will be proven to be factual. Until then, this is Amanda Lessante, reporting from the town of Riverton.”

  Harry turned off the television and walked upstairs to comfort his grieving wife.

  * * *

  In the clearing the large pile of bones began tumbling down as a few wild dogs foraged the remnants for a tasty treat. They rummaged through the bones, casting aside the ones they deemed unfit for their snack. As they reached partway through the pile, one of the dogs pulled out a large femur, at least four feet long, it had a stark white brightness compared to the rest of the bones. Never before had it feasted on this sort of bone. The other dog quickly joined in the hunt to pull out the bones of two unnaturally large skeletal remains from the pile. The teeth marks they left in these bones would soon cover up the other bite marks left behind by their first predator so many years prior. One of the dogs ran off with a large misshapen skull. This was their first finding, but surely not their last.

  They would return to the pile many times over the following months, along with several other wild animals, until the pile of bones became but a shadow of a memory of what had once fed in the clearing of these woods.