The Pit in the Woods: A Mercy Falls Mythos

by Nathaniel Reed

  “We have to find them,” Jeremy said. “He told me they had other plans for them.”

  Blake put his hand on his back. “We will.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  MYRON’S MISFORTUNE

  (2014)

  1

  The room was little more than an alcove. Johnny and Staci sat against the wall. There was another opening up ahead, but for now they needed a breather.

  Staci lay her crossbow beside her, keeping her hand on it, patting it every so often for security. Her backpack lay next to it. Johnny twirled his stake in his hand.

  “Do you want my gun?” Staci asked him.

  Johnny sighed with relief, putting his hand out, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Staci laughed and handed over the revolver. “I like the crossbow better anyway.” She went through her backpack and handed him a handful of shells.

  “Extras; put them in your pockets.”

  “Thanks,” Johnny said.

  “Do you think he’s all right?”

  “Who? Jeremy?”

  Staci nodded.

  “I don’t…” Johnny started, and then decided, “Yeah, he’s all right.”

  “You sound sure.”

  “Good,” he said.

  Are you? she wanted to ask, but knew better not to. He was done sharing, for now. They sat in silence and rested.

  2

  When he was done with tears he looked away. Jeremy

  rummaged through his backpack for bullets, pulled out a box of shells,

  and robotically reloaded his gun.

  Eve walked over to him. “Jeremy, are you okay?” She wanted to smack herself as soon as it was out of her mouth.

  “No,” he said, pushing rounds into the chambers. “But they won’t be either.”

  If it had been anyone else who had spoken to him at that point, Jeremy might have screamed; he felt like screaming. But it was Blake. And Blake understood.

  He laid a hand on Jeremy’s back and said, “I know what you’re going through. I understand your anger. We’ve both lost a great deal. But wield it righteously. Don’t let it consume you. Use it as a tool of vengeance. Let them rue the day they ever decided to cross

  you.”

  Jeremy pushed the final shell into the last chamber, raised the gun, spun the cylinder, and locked it.

  “They will,” he said.

  3

  They rose together without a word, and strode through the next opening, flashlights and weapons ready.

  Johnny and Staci navigated the tunnels in silence. The next room they entered was dark, seeming to dead end, though it was hard to tell. The beam from Staci’s flashlight met only rock. Johnny could see a lot better in the dark with his naked eye. “No, nothing, no way out,” he said. That was when they heard the hissing.

  Something cold and wet wrapped itself around Staci’s ankle. She squealed.

  “What is it?” Johnny said.

  “Something’s got my leg!!” She kicked and screamed, inadvertently aiming her flashlight toward the floor. What covered the floor in a mass of slithering intertwined bodies was unmistakable.

  “Snakes!” Johnny shouted. Before he could back up two had

  coiled themselves around both of his legs. Johnny fired blindly into

  the pile.

  “Don’t!” Staci said. “Don’t waste your bullets! That’s what they want you to do! Let’s get out!”

  They backed into the tunnel again. The one twined around Staci’s leg sunk fangs into her calf. She cried out, crushing the thing’s head against the wall. Johnny fired carefully at the one’s wound around his legs. One of them bit down and he reflexively fired into its head, just missing his own leg. The other he managed to beat against the wall until it let go.

  “Oh God! I’m going to die! I’m probably poisoned.”

  “I don’t think so,” Johnny said, as they continued to back out from the snake pit, “Look!” he pointed.

  The snakes slithering out of the black room toward them were changing, their bodies expanding, lengthening. Reptilian skin turned into what looked like human skin.

  “Vampires,” Staci said.

  Johnny nodded, “Yeah.” They spun, running as fast as they could away from them. The vampires, still slithering as they changed could not catch up, still in mid-transformation. Staci and Johnny shot back at those that became full vampires, who were quick on their tail, with gun and crossbow, turning every now and again to look back as they fired over their shoulders.

  “We have to find another exit!” Johnny said. They found a narrow opening ahead to their right and squeezed into it.

  It led to another cavern, this one lit by torches on either side. They were able to turn off their flashlights. Neither of them noticed any exits from the room, which wasn’t much larger than another snake pit. They leaned their backs up against the wall, weapons drawn, and waited.

  “What now?” Staci asked.

  “You ever see that movie 300?” Johnny said.

  4

  Leaving his sister behind was one of the most difficult things Jeremy had to do, but he had friends who were still alive, as far as he knew, and he had to find them.

  “Which way?” Tony asked. He looked at Eve and Blake, knowing that, as vampires they were probably the better trackers.

  “This way,” Eve pointed, “I think.”

  “I think so too,” Blake agreed.

  They’re like bloodhounds, Myron thought, trembling. “Are you sure…” he began, not finishing his sentence. Jeremy heard the rest of it in his head: Are you sure you’re smelling them, and not something else?

  “Yes,” Blake said, after a pause, aware that Myron had stopped talking abruptly. They were all under some strain, so he didn’t pry.

  “Did you hear that?” Eve said.

  “Gunfire,” Blake nodded, “This way.” They veered down another passage. When they’d reached a certain tunnel, the sight was an odd one. There were at least twenty vampires, crowding around each other, as if trying to vie for the last roll in a bread line. And they were all facing away from their group.

  Blake raised his machine gun.

  5

  Johnny and Staci stood to either side of the narrow opening waiting for the next vampire to try and come through. Staci shot one in the eye with an arrow. Whichever ones she missed Johnny blasted with the gun. The wooden arrows would hurt them more and slow them down more quickly, even though they caused less actual physical damage. It was better to preserve their bullets, where they could be fired in the open, in quicker succession.

  He found himself wishing he’d had Myron’s sword right about

  now. It’d be a lot easier to slide that through the opening and stab at

  anything that tried to get through. After a few arrows flew, and several gunshots were fired, they got something even better: The rumble of machine gun fire penetrating the air.

  6

  It was too good to be true. It was as if they were walking toward their slaughter, except they were facing the wrong direction, making it that much easier.

  Blake swept the machine gun from side to side, spraying through the haphazard line. Only after he’d blasted through a dozen of them did the others turn around. He made Swiss cheese of them too. They were on the ground shaking with epileptic fits.

  “Jeeze Blake, could you save a few for us?” Tony said.

  “Sorry.”

  They went through the animated bodies on the ground, staking them until they all ceased their movements.

  “Jeremy? Tony?” someone said, “Who’s there?”

  “Johnny? Is that you?” Jeremy said.

  “Yeah, I’m in here with Staci,” Johnny said, “behind the wall. Don’t shoot, we’re coming out.”

  Staci and Johnny stepped out of a small groove in the wall they hadn’t noticed, that was barely large enough to accommodate a human.

  “So that’s what they were after,” Blake said. Staci and Johnny hugged the others.
<
br />   “Holy shit Blake! You look younger than us!” Johnny exclaimed.

  “Only in appearance… and performance,” Blake grinned.

  Staci looked at Jeremy worriedly. “Jeremy, you’re sister?”

  Jeremy shook his head, and looked down.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. She held him, kissing his cheek.

  Myron recognized the hurt in Staci and Jeremy. What he

  didn’t expect was the hurt he felt behind Eve’s casual glance over at

  the two of them. It was during this realization that something sleek and cold and hard curled itself around his neck and mouth so that he couldn’t breathe, or speak, as he was pulled into a dark hole, away from his friends.

  7

  “So that was the big plan for us?” Johnny whispered to Staci.

  “I don’t really know,” Staci said. “I don’t think there ever was a plan for us. I think he just wanted to get Jeremy alone so his odds were better, and to make him suffer.”

  Even though they spoke low Blake and Eve could hear them.

  The tunnels didn’t get any less confusing. There were too many turns and forks, and a few dead ends.

  “Does anyone remember there being this many tunnels?” Tony said.

  They’d been walking for at least fifteen minutes when Jeremy turned around and looked at all of them, alarmed.

  “Hey everyone, where’s Myron?”

  8

  The snakes slithered around his legs, trying to drag him down. The one that dragged Myron and had pulled him into this dark pit still covered his mouth, preventing him from screaming, or crying for help. Though they encircled his arms now, he still managed to hold the flashlight in one hand and the sword in the other. He could afford to lose neither, so he flipped on the flashlight, revealing about a dozen thick, intent snakes, of origins he could not determine. The only thing Myron could tell was that they all had fangs.

  He swung his sword at the one holding his other arm, splitting it in half, and in doing so loosening the one holding his sword arm.

  Wolf, bat, or snake, Myron remembered Blake telling them

  that all vampires could become those three things- a long time ago, when they’d first met. He sliced through the snakes holding his legs. They let go. The ones that hadn’t suffered damage began to change. He tried to slash through them, but they wrapped around his wrist, squeezing hard, forcing his hand open, and in turn causing him to drop his sword.

  He held on to the flashlight. If he didn’t he’d be at a total loss in this darkness, so he used his other hand to yank at the snake wrapped around his mouth. The flashlight revealed a nightmare of twisting, morphing, half reptilian, half human looking bodies.

  Myron wasn’t strong enough to get the snake off from his head, so he used that hand instead to fumble for his stake, finding it. He stabbed the snake near the side of his head. It immediately released him and dropped with a squeal and a hiss. That was when Myron used his now freed mouth to scream.

  9

  They didn’t need Blake or Eve’s vampiric hearing. They all heard the scream.

  “Myron,” Staci said. They ran back in the direction of the cry.

  Meanwhile Myron Powers was in for the fight of his life. He put the stake away, grabbing a handful of vials of holy water, tossing them at the mostly transformed vampires. Morphing seemed to slow them down enough to where he could back away. The glass containers shattered, smashing against heads and shoulders, altering reptilian scaly faces into masses of dripping, oozing, pink flesh as the holy water melted their features. Cries and squeals that were part pig, part snake, part human scream, echoed through the chamber. And still they kept coming.

  He had only three vials readily available. The vampires were fully transformed into their human visages, even though some of them had faces of wax, and they were quicker now. Myron moved to throw the last three vials when he saw, too late, what was about to

  happen.

  One of the vampires picked up his fallen sword as he proceeded to lob the holy water, and it swung Myron’s sword. As his arm was going up, the sword was coming down. The sword lopped off his hand at the wrist. The glass vials crashed to the ground along with his severed hand.

  Myron cursed, indignant at the sudden sharp pain and loss of his appendage. Completely defenseless, with only his left hand holding the flashlight, he was unable to grasp his bleeding arm, as the vampires surrounded and barreled into him.

  There were whooshing sounds in the air and several of them dropped, Staci’s arrows hitting them in the back. The sharp report of Johnny’s gun followed and more fell away. Myron heard his sword drop to the ground again. One vampire remained upright, strangling him. Blake smartly hadn’t fired his machine gun for fear of hitting Myron.

  A different breaking of the air followed as Jeremy whirled his whip around in a circle and released. The end of it wrapped around the vampire’s neck, silver hooks piercing its carotid artery. The creature gurgled, and Jeremy yanked it toward him, away from Myron, tearing out chunks of its neck with it. The vampire was directly under him now, looking up. Jeremy let out an inhuman wail and stomped on its face, caving it in.

  Staci looked away. Tony blazed through, going through the motions, decapitating the vampires on the ground. Staci remembered Johnny calling him Rambo once, and now she recalled a line from the last movie that character was in:

  Killing’s as easy as breathing.

  Myron dropped to the ground, sitting up against the wall. Eve set her lantern down in the middle of the floor so they’d have enough light. Myron had dropped his flashlight and held his bloody stump.

  “Your hand!” Staci cried out. The group rushed toward him. The blood was oozing between his fingers. Blake removed his coat and tore off his top shirt, quickly wrapping Myron’s mangled stump with the material.

  “We’ve got to stop the bleeding. Find the next room lit by a torch and cauterize the wound,” Blake said. They agreed. “And find it!” They looked around confused. “Find his hand, his bloody hand!” “Here it is,” Tony said.

  “Bring it here.” Tony did, holding it by a finger, away from him, as he might hold a rat by its tail.

  Blake snatched it from him and wrapped it in the remainder of his shirt. “No ice, this will have to do.” He took Myron’s backpack and zipped the hand into one of the empty compartments. “All right, let’s go.”

  10

  When they found a room lit by torches, they weren’t exactly alone. No one noticed the man, little more than a teenager, sitting in the shadows against the cavern wall, until they heard him shift and ask, “Who’s there?”

  His worn, weary face poked out of the darkness. The man-boy looked dirty, disheveled, and somewhat bloody. His arm looked as if it had been gnawed on. Large chunks of it were missing, leaving raw, red concave holes. When he attempted to smile at the sight of people, they could see he had done this to himself. His teeth were sharp and red, pieces of meat still lodged between them. In an effort to stop himself from feeding off other humans, he had begun to cannibalize himself.

  Most of them looked away. Blake looked directly at the boy.

  “I’m sorry son,” he said, and fired into his head until it was a bloody stump. Appearing un-phased, Blake walked toward the torch on the wall, pulling it off, and striding toward Myron.

  Despite the seriousness and the no nonsense business attitude on Blake’s face, and despite his own physical pain, Myron felt Blake’s inner turmoil.

  Blake grabbed his injured arm near the elbow, and looked at Myron directly.

  “You’re reading me aren’t you?” Blake whispered.

  Myron gave a slight nod, afraid to say a word.

  “Well stop it,” Blake said.

  “It’s not something I can turn on and off. It just happens,” Myron replied.

  “Well, shut it up then. Here,” Blake said, handing Myron his stake. “Bite down on this.”

  Myron did, as Blake unwound the makeshift bandage.

&nb
sp; “Bite hard!” Blake shouted. Myron clamped down hard on the stake, and Blake placed Myron's sword in the torch's fire, dragging his bloody stump toward the heated metal.

  Myron cried out behind the wood, his face becoming red and strained, a vein standing out on his forehead. He continued to chomp on the stake. It was roughly three seconds his skin was held to the blade, but to Myron, and the rest who watched, it was an eternity. Blake pulled the sword away. “Good boy.”

  Myron’s eyes rolled in his head, the wood dropping from his mouth. He swooned and then fainted.

  Blake raised a hand to stay the others. “He’ll be all right. It may take a few minutes, but he’ll come to. Let him rest.”

  11

  Myron did come to several minutes later. Blake helped him up and handed him his sword, which now looked awkward in his left hand.

  “Okay, let’s move on,” he said, glancing at his watch.

  “Got an important date?” Eve said.

  “Something like that,” Blake smirked.

  Jeremy couldn’t quite pick up his thoughts, but he had a suspicion Blake was hiding something. They marched forward, flashlights and weapons leading the way.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  TONY IN TROUBLE

  (2014)

  1

  Besides Myron’s weakness from his amputation and blood loss, they were all feeling a bit war weary. They still hadn't reached the head vampires, and Eve, Blake, and Johnny were still vampires, not having killed the ones that turned them. Maybe it was for the best, for now.

  “Stay together,” Blake said, “Watch each other's backs.”

  They were walking toward something, but not sure what. A lighted cavern or tunnel lay up ahead. Eve took Jeremy's hand. Jeremy looked at her, bewildered. She almost laughed, but didn't. “I hope you don't mind. If we're going to die, I want to know you're close.”