by Jason Brant
“You gotta be kidding me,” Kyle said. His head swung in both directions, trying to spot the edge of the crack. It seemed to run deep into the forest, as they couldn't see where it ended.
“Is this man-made? This is some of the craziest shit I've ever seen. What is this place?” Bryan asked. If this was natural, he couldn’t understand why anyone would build on the other side of it.
To their left, stretching across the large chasm, stood a narrow wooden bridge made of old, warped planks. It looked just wide enough to get a car across, but Bryan figured someone would have to be crazy to drive over it.
“Is that the only way across?” Kyle asked.
Bryan looked around in the semidarkness, hoping to spot another way. He wasn't a fan of heights, or of old, rickety bridges.
“Dude, I didn't come here to act like Indiana Jones. No way am I'm going across that thing.”
Surprisingly, Kyle didn't argue. He wasn't even looking at the bridge anymore, but staring at the church. “That place scares the shit out of me.”
Behind them came the sound of cars moving over gravel. The report of stones under tires bounced through the trees. Bryan stopped, listening, realizing for the first time that the forest was utterly silent. No birds, crickets, or roiling water seemed to inhabit the area around them.
“You hear that?” he asked.
“Sounds like the Specter Slayers are here.”
“Not that. Listen.”
Kyle kept his eyes on the church, but cocked his head to the side. “I don't hear anything.”
“Exactly.”
Standing in silence for a moment, Kyle held his breath as he pulled his eyes from the church and scanned the woods. “That's freaky. You're right; I don't hear a damn thing.”
Bryan looked down the path, hoping to see the oncoming vehicles soon. The longer he stood there, the more he wanted to get back in his car and leave. The entire setup was ludicrous - bordering on unbelievable.
The remote location, hidden driveway, decrepit church, and the massive, dying forest seemed to leap from an H.P. Lovecraft book; and Bryan thought those stories of ancient gods and giant monsters were stupid.
Kyle resumed looking at the church, seemingly transfixed by its looming presence. Bryan had to admit that something pulled at his gut, almost beckoning him to step across the shoddy little bridge and into its dark embrace. He didn’t assume it to be something supernatural however, but rather his human curiosity wanting to be satisfied.
Headlights cut through the odd twilight, temporarily illuminating the densely packed trees surrounding the area. Bryan watched, looking for any sign of wind, wildlife, or bugs; hoping to catch a glimpse of some kind of movement.
He couldn’t see anything - the area appeared devoid of life.
Two vehicles pulled into the small clearing where Bryan and Kyle stood, parking along the left side. A large, white van came next and parked to the right, inches from the bumper of Bryan's Taurus. Two men stepped out of the lead car, a beautiful Lexus sedan, and one of them strutted over to where Kyle stood, still staring at the church.
Bryan recognized them as the creators and hosts of Specter Slayers. From the few times he'd seen the show he had considered them to be pompous morons. Seeing them in person confirmed that feeling.
The first man was an extremely short, Italian-looking fool wearing a pink polo shirt that wasn't buttoned at the top. A gold chain looped around his neck with a cross hanging from it, resting against his chest hair. He wore sunglasses even though the area around them had to make it nearly impossible to see.
“Look at that fuckin' place!” he said, walking toward the church.
Bryan jumped forward and grabbed the short guy by his arm, stopping him from falling into the crevice. “You might want to take your sunglasses off,” Bryan said. The cameras weren't even rolling yet, and this guy was trying to look as cool as possible.
“Jesus jumped up Christ, look at the size of that crack,” he said. “I almost ate the big one there.”
The second man approached, shuffling more than strutting, and making an uncomfortable amount of eye contact with everyone. The first thing that popped into Bryan's mind when he saw him was 'molester', which then made him feel guilty.
He was taller than the first man was, but only came to an average height, similar to Bryan. He had a significant tire of fat bulging around his midsection, and a splotchy, thin mustache. Similar looking men usually adorned fliers on the walls of a post office.
“Don't get yourself killed before we even start filming. If you're going to die at least wait until we get a couple of cameras set up,” he said, before sniggering to himself.
His voice had a high, feminine quality to it that made Bryan wince. If his appearance and mannerisms weren't enough to put parents on edge when he was around, that voice would seal the deal. Bryan wasn't sure he'd ever actually heard someone snigger before, and already regretted having experienced it.
“Shit. The way our luck has been going over the last few weeks, I probably would have floated across in the air,” the short man said with underserved arrogance.
“You must be the interns from Penn State, right?” He took a few steps backward and looked Bryan and Kyle up and down, examining them for some unknown qualities.
Kyle snapped out of his daze and turned around, unrestrained glee on his face. “That's us! I'm Kyle Detwiler and this is Bryan Armstrong. We’re−”
Shorty dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, whatever. Where's the hot, rich chick?”
Bryan and Kyle exchanged a confused glance.
“Uh, what?” Bryan asked.
“The hottie, where is she?”
The door to the large white van opened and a thin, geeky looking man in his mid twenties stepped out. He wore round wire-framed glasses that slid down his nose as he hopped to the ground. Despite his young age, his light brown hair had receded several inches, yet he allowed what remained to grow long.
He stopped in his tracks when he spotted the church, pushing his glasses up with his index finger.
“Whoa.”
Chapter 3
While the three stooges convened by the van, Bryan scooted over to Kyle.
“Do we really want to go through with this? These guys are even more ridiculous than they look on TV.”
“Look at that place, dude. This is where conclusive evidence of ghosts is going to be recorded, and we're going to be a part of it,” Kyle said. He turned back to the church and resumed his odd staring. Bryan didn't like how fixated he seemed to be.
“I've never seen you stare at something so hard that didn't have a pair of boobs. You're starting to freak me out.”
“There's something about it. I can't put my finger on what it is, but I feel like it's calling to me,” Kyle said. He shook his head and turned back to Bryan. “Sounds stupid, I know. I just can't shake the feeling – like some kind of gravity is pulling at me.”
The two Specter Slayers were browbeating the balding nerd about something. Their voices carried to where Bryan and Kyle stood, but they had an odd, muted quality, as if the sound didn't resonate quite right.
“I haven't watched the show enough, what are their names?” Bryan asked.
“The short, cocky dude is Travis Zemcik. The creepy one is Joey Colon. I can't remember the dork's name. He's their 'tech expert',” Kyle said, making air quotes with his fingers. “Seems like a geeky asshole to me though.”
“You realize how much of a joke these guys are right? There's a reason South Park dedicated an entire episode to ripping them apart.”
“Everyone knows they're douche bags, but they're the leading paranormal investigators in the world. Just relax, and remember what this is going to do for your career.”
Bryan was starting to think that this show was going to be the first and last he would ever work on. Being associated with this program would probably get him blacklisted. Thinking of those three as the leading paranormal investigators of the world really ex
plained how pathetic the field of parapsychology is.
Sighing heavily, Bryan gazed around at the surrounding forest, his mind wandering back to Christine. He should have been preparing for his wedding over the next few weekends. Now he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a bizarre cast of characters.
For weeks, he'd been struggling against the resentment building inside of him. How could she do this to him? His life continued to unravel in the wake of their breakup. Every morning he rolled out of bed and dreaded going through the motions of his day, pretending to others that everything was fine.
The current environment he found himself in felt like a perfect representation of what his life had become - a brown, dying wasteland rapidly filling with morons. Finding himself surrounded by three weird men that he held in such low esteem didn't help his mood. He tried to push the thoughts away, not wanting his depression to creep back in as it so often did these days.
Another set of headlights shown from down the path, grabbing everyone's attention.
“This must be her,” the geek said, barely containing his glee.
Travis looked in the side mirror on the van; not having to bend too far to do so, licked the tips of his fingers, and ran them along the sides of his slicked-back hair.
“I thought we were the only interns on this episode?” Kyle asked.
Creepy Joey, as Bryan now thought of him, scoffed at Kyle, once again using entirely too much eye contact. “You think our audience wants to see you guys? Give me a break. We pulled out all the stops for this episode.”
The vehicle pulled forward and stopped beside Bryan's Taurus, effectively blocking him in. It was a red Range Rover with the windows tinted dark enough to prevent anyone seeing inside. The beefy engine rumbled as it idled in place.
“Look at this asshole parking in the middle of the damn clearing,” Kyle said. “No one can get out now.”
Cutting off the engine, the driver opened the door and a long, denim covered leg stepped out. Bryan felt like he was watching a cheesy movie where everyone ogles the pretty lady as she steps out of a Ferrari. Knowing how clichéd he was being didn't stop his mouth from dropping open when the woman attached to the leg appeared behind the door.
She exuded confidence and her eyes betrayed her intelligence. The jeans she wore were tight, but not prohibitively so. A plain white t-shirt showed off her toned figure and continued her utilitarian ensemble.
Bryan thought she looked vaguely familiar to him - as if he'd seen her on television, or the internet. Kyle, never missing an opportunity to hit on an attractive woman, was across the clearing and introducing himself before Bryan could hinge his jaw back in place.
“Let me get that door for you,” Kyle said.
She had long, flowing jet-black hair that went past her shoulders. Standing next to Kyle, Bryan estimated she was close to 5'10”, as she wasn't much shorter than him. Her olive skin didn't have any of the orange tinge associated with tanning beds, indicating some kind of ethnic ancestry.
“Do I look like an invalid to you?” she asked.
Kyle paused, his hand on the door handle. “What?”
“Do you see me as incapable of closing a door for myself? Or do you really think that the act of merely pushing it closed will get you in my pants?” Though what she said came across as incredibly snide, her voice didn't seem to carry any venom in it.
Frozen in place, Kyle looked back at the others for help. The shock on his face made Bryan laugh. It was a rare sight to see him speechless around a woman.
Taking the door from Kyle's grip, she closed it and walked around the front of the car, pulling her hair back in a tight ponytail as she went.
“Katie Upshaw,” she said, approaching the group.
As she did so, Bryan realized why she looked familiar to him. She was an author, and a famous one at that. She wrote fiction about cults, creatures in the night, and devil worshipers. Though she told ridiculous stories, she was known for backing them up with actual research on the subjects.
Bryan had read some of her stuff in high school, and thought it was almost as stupid as Lovecraft. He didn't know how many books she had, but he was aware that she was a big time seller. He had seen her picture in the news several months ago when she signed a multimillion dollar book deal. Her youth surprised him, considering he had read a book of hers over five years ago.
“Katie Upshaw, the author?” Bryan asked. He found himself staring at her. She didn't have supermodel looks, but she was very attractive.
“Why are you asking me questions you already know the answer to?”
“Uh...”
She moved past him toward the Specter Slayers, not waiting for his response.
“Where is the rest of your crew?” she asked Travis.
“This is everyone. What the hell do you think we brought these guys in for?” Travis said, gesturing to Bryan and Kyle. The tension between the two of them flared immediately.
“You’re joking,” Kyle said. He'd moved beside Bryan, still looking confused over his inability to make Katie Upshaw swoon. Bryan wasn't sure that Kyle knew who she was yet.
“We fired all of our employees three weeks ago,” Joey said.
The nerdy guy cleared his throat and looked around nervously.
“Everyone but Ben here,” Joey said, nodding toward the geek. “We needed at least one person who knew how to use the equipment.”
“Why would you fire your crew? Who's going to shoot the footage and carry the mics and shit?” Kyle asked.
Travis turned to Ben. “These are the guys you picked to intern for us? They aren't too quick on the uptake are they?”
Bryan knew where this was heading, but couldn't bring himself to believe it. He thought these guys were dumb asses, but this was beyond anything he expected. Who would actually fire their film crew before they shot an episode of a television program with a famous author in tow?
“You expect us to run a TV show?” He shook his head in disbelief, trying to rationalize their stupidity. “We haven't even graduated yet.”
“This one might not be too stupid,” Joey said. He managed to make even a simple sentence come across as disturbing.
“Our old employees wanted too much money. Why pay them when we can hire interns and make them do all the work for free,” Travis said. “It was awkward firing my brother though.”
Katie's hands were on her hips. She took a step forward, towering over the shorter Travis. “I paid you that large sum of money, and then you fired your people?” She was clearly used to intimidating people.
Travis tried to stare back at her, but his body seemed to shrink under her glare. “Well, we−”
“Jesus Christ. We agreed that everything would be documented throughout the entire night,” Katie said, turning around and stomping back toward Kyle and Bryan. She looked both of them up and down. “Are you capable of handling audio and video equipment?”
“Maybe,” Bryan said. “Depends on what they have.”
She had been in complete control of the situation since she stepped out of her car. Even Kyle, who was used to having women fall over him, stood in awe of her presence. People with her kind of personality ruled the world, and she knew it.
Turning back to the Specter Slayers, she stared them down. “If a single occurrence is missed, I'll sue you into the Dark Ages.” With that threat, she walked over to the crevice and looked at the church ruins beyond.
“Who the hell is that?” Kyle asked; keeping his voice low so she couldn't hear him.
“You've never heard of Katie Upshaw? The famous horror novelist?”
“She writes books? How would I know that?” Kyle asked.
Bryan thought about it, and realized he'd never seen Kyle even study from his textbooks, let alone read something for pleasure. “Remember the movie Doorways that came out last summer? That was based on one of her novels.”
“No shit? That movie was awesome.” Kyle watched her as she studied the giant crack in the earth. “So sh
e's got to be rich then, right?”
“Yeah, she makes a lot of money,” Bryan said. He found himself checking out Katie as well, impressed by her toned body and take-no-shit attitude.
“How old do you think she is? I think I've got a shot with her.”
“Seriously? That's what you're thinking about right now?”
Kyle turned to him and gave him a serious look. “That's what I always think about. You think she's thirty-five? Forty? That's not too bad.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and tapped rapidly on the screen. “I’m going to see what her Wikipedia page says.”
She turned back from the crevice and walked toward her car. Everyone's eyes followed her, expecting another outburst. Ignoring all of them, she pulled a pack from the passenger seat of her car and threw it over her shoulder.
“Will someone please tell us what the hell is going on?” Bryan asked. He didn't know where he was, why there was a church in the middle of nowhere, or why Katie Upshaw, of all people, had shown up and started bossing everyone around.
Joey sniggered again. “What do you want to know?”
“What is that place?” Bryan gestured at the church. “And why is Katie Upshaw here?”
“This is the Danver church,” Katie said. She walked past them, moving toward the bridge. “And it's supposedly a gateway to somewhere else.”
Chapter 4
“This is the Danver church? Yes!” Kyle pumped his hand in the air in celebration.
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Bryan asked. He'd never heard of it before − probably because he didn't waste his time studying ridiculous paranormal claims.
“Seriously, kid? You've never heard of Charles Danver?” Creepy Joey asked.
“First, I'm not a kid. And second, no, I've never heard of a stupid old church in the middle of redneck heaven, or of some dude named Charles Danver,” Bryan said. He might not be out of college yet, but he hated having people dismiss him because of his age. Judging from the way these two looked, he was probably more educated than both of them combined.