by Jan Tilley
Travis nodded. “Yeah, I just need to know what happened out here.”
Malachi looked into his eyes. “Travis, you’re in an unstable place right now. You’ve gone through a lot. I will help you get to the other side, but you have to trust me. You will have a lot of questions and I promise that I’ll do my very best to be honest with you, but you must be honest with me as well.”
Travis nodded. “I will.”
Malachi took another sip of his tea, and then stood up and went to his room. He pulled a small metal box out from under his bed and wiped the dust off the top with his stumpy-fingered hand. He searched his carabiner and stopped at the small blackened key that would open the lock and expose all their secrets. Malachi shook his head and whispered, “I hope I’m doing the right thing. Heaven help me.”
Travis spent the next day completely immersed in the book. He closed himself off in his room and only came out to grab a bite to eat and use the restroom. On the second day, when he finally emerged, he looked disheveled. He hadn’t showered and looked a mess. Malachi made some breakfast, while Travis cleaned himself up.
They sat quietly at the table, consuming their bacon and eggs. Malachi finally mustered up the nerve and broke the silence. “More juice, son?”
Travis nodded.
“So, are you done with Ambrose’s journal?”
Again, Travis nodded, shaking his leg profusely.
Malachi refilled their juice glasses and stared at him. “You ready to talk about it?”
Travis stared at his plate in a dazed state. Finally, he looked at Malachi. “How could they have done that?”
Malachi wiped his mouth and leaned back in his chair, sipping his juice. “They went mad. You read my great-great grandfather’s journal, but that was just his version of what happened. When I was younger, I spent years researching ‘The Awakening’ and was lucky enough to talk to some old-timers who had insider information. I have a pretty good overall picture of what actually happened here.”
Travis finished his food and leaned back in his chair. “I’m gonna need some help making sense out of all this. Those guys were seriously messed up.”
“They were actually in a drug-induced mental state. I don’t think they knew what they were doing most of the time. Or, maybe they did and the joke’s on me. No one knows for sure.”
Malachi picked up the dishes and placed them neatly in the sink. He poured a cup of tea and looked at Travis. “How about we go out front and get some fresh air?”
Travis followed behind him. As they settled into the rocking chairs on the front stoop, Malachi tried to figure out where to begin. It was such a tangled mess. Sometimes he had trouble making sense of it himself. How was he ever going to explain it?
“Guess it’s best to just start at the beginning. Ambrose, Marcus and the others began this innocent venture with good intentions and pure hearts. They moved their families to the hollow, which at that time was just a rural area of Doylestown. They all lived in small cottages, while the men worked here at the mill. The only other option for a job at the time was the coal mines. These were not hardcore coal mine men.”
Travis listened intently. “So the religious group was centered around the mill?”
“Yes. They held their meetings or church sessions in the front room which is now the store. The men were very dedicated to the mill and spent long hours here working and studying the scriptures. Then the accident happened.”
“What accident? The one at the mine?”
“Yeah. That was the big turning point for the religious reformists. The miners tapped into a cavern down in the mine shaft. Folks heard the explosion and screaming throughout the hollow. Horrible sound they said. Evil mixed with pain and suffering. One old man that I talked to said he was there when he was just a child and that the sound haunted him his entire life.”
“What was it?”
“I believe it was a pocket of Methane gas that they tapped into. There was a horrid explosion and the miners burned to death in the shaft. Only one survived. When he came to, he had quite a story to tell.”
“What’d he say?”
“Did you read the part about a man named Tyson?”
Travis nodded. “Yeah. It was hard to make out some of the writing. Was he the one who talked about the portal?”
Malachi nodded. “That was him. He was convinced that they had tapped into an actual portal to hell. He swore that evil came out of the hole and attacked the miners. Says he saw tongues in the fire, licking them and torturing them as they died.”
“Is that really what happened?”
“No one knows for sure. I think it was probably just the gas that played tricks on his mind. He died a few days later, but the members of ‘The Awakening’ were convinced that true evil was released into that mine shaft.
After the accident, a beautiful flower began to grow and bloom at the opening of the mine shaft. It was an Angel’s Trumpet. They believed it was God’s way of keeping the evil trapped in the hole. It was their protection.
Several weeks after the accident, the town folks felt that it was safe enough to venture into the shaft and retrieve what they could of the bodies for burial. As they removed the boards that covered the opening, the flower began to die. It was probably the remainder of the gas being released, but they were convinced that it was the evil seeping out.
The religious men refused to go into the mine, but others went right in. They removed what was left of the bodies, which was mostly just ashes and a few bones. The reformists noticed that the protective plant was beginning to spring back to life. Upon closer inspection they saw that some of the human ash had spilled onto the plant as the bodies were being removed.
“This was when one of the reformists took the reins and emerged as a leader. His name was Alexander and he became very powerful. He convinced the other members that there indeed was evil released into the mine and that it was their job to keep it at bay. He told the others that the plant was their only hope and that it was placed there by angels for protection, but that it must be fed human ash to survive.”
“That night, he and several other men snuck back into the mine and collected as much ash as they could find. Once a week, they would take a little bit of it to the plant. Mixing the ash with water, they fed the angel plant. They became obsessed with it and believed that it was their only hope for survival. They were so fanatical about it that they would take petals from the plant and rub it on their foreheads so that they would have protection back at the mill. Even went as far as to propagate saplings from the plant which were brought here, placing one at the front and rear entrances of the building.” Malachi paused and pointed to his Angel’s Trumpet bush.
Travis looked at the plant, then back at Malachi. “Wait, are you saying that’s one of the plants?”
Malachi nodded. “It’s an offspring of the original. I promised my grandfather that I would take care of it. Even though granddad didn’t quite believe that the plant was magical, he didn’t want to take any chances with his family. There was no way that he wanted to tempt fate. It was almost like an insurance policy for extra protection. I promised him that I would watch over it and I have kept my word all these years. Soon, it will be your turn to take over.”
“What? Why does it matter at this point?”
Shrugging, Malachi grinned. “It’s just tradition, I guess.” He stood up and stretched his back. “Feel like taking a walk, son?”
“Sure.”
They locked the front door and headed out back, up a narrow trail that led deep into the woods. Malachi was trying to figure out a way to piece it all together and he was struggling. “I look at the past as a history lesson. Just like when I read about Hitler or any other crazy leader from days of old. Do I honestly believe that the angel bush protects us? Probably not, but why risk it? Plus it’s beautiful and it gives me something to do,” he said with a slight grin.
Malachi stopped next to a large boulder and placed his hand on it. “Here it is.
”
“What?”
“This is the opening to the mine. The reformists felt it was best if they blocked the entrance to keep the evil locked inside.” He walked around to the other side and pointed out an Angel’s Trumpet bush. “This one here, it’s the original. Or an offshoot of the original at least. I still tend to it as well. Just for added protection.”
Travis walked around the boulder, inspecting it. “Do you really think it’s a portal?”
Malachi shrugged. “Who am I to say? I know there’s a strange darkness to this old hollow. But, is it evil? I can’t answer that. I do know that the research I’ve done shows this particular plant can not survive the harsh Ohio winters when left outside. But for some reason this one here never dies. I don’t know if it keeps reseeding itself or if there is something else going on. The soil around the mine opening appears warmer than it should be. There is some kind of heat still being released from the old mine. What that is, I just can’t say for sure.”
They continued onward up the hill to Silver Creek Ridge. Malachi was winded when they arrived at the peak. He stood tall and stretched his back as he looked out over the valley that had become Rogue’s Hollow.
Travis walked around inspecting the area. “Is this the sugar camp you told me about?”
Malachi nodded and took a deep breath. “Sure is. This is where I make our famous maple syrup every spring. You, my friend, will be helping me this next harvest season.” It was just a small building with a huge kettle in the middle that was used to boil the sap into syrup.
Travis smiled and replied, “Cool.” He was always up for learning something new.
Malachi made his way over to a brick structure near the sugar shack. “And this here is the old kiln. They said that it was built for brick-making, but later it became their crematorium.”
Travis walked over and peered inside. “Seriously? This is what Ambrose was talking about?”
“After several years the miner’s ash was all used up. The cult members grew desperate to keep the plants alive. They were certain that the plants protected them from evil. Little did they know, they were also extremely toxic. Angel’s Trumpet in small doses is a hallucinogenic and in large doses, it can kill you. Every day the men would rub the liquid from a small petal across their forehead for protection. It got them high and caused them to hallucinate. They began to see the evil coming after them. It was seeping out around the boulder. Hands would reach out to them in the darkness, begging for help.”
Malachi paused and then continued, “Alexander felt that since he was the leader, he deserved more protection than the rest, so he dried some of the leaves and made a special tea from the toxic plants as well. Slowly, he went mad. The women took the children and moved into town. They had to save themselves and gain distance from the mad men.”
Travis shook his head, confused. “Is that when they began to kill?”
Malachi nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so. They devised an evil plan. A scheme to lure homeless and wayward scoundrels to the hollow. Alexander told them that the evil must be fed. The only sacrifice it would accept was human ash and they all believed him.
The covenant welcomed the lost transients and rogues into their fold with compassionate, open arms. Those poor souls that were unwanted in the local towns and had nowhere else to go would come here seeking refuge from ridicule and persecution. Alexander assured them that they were safe here. Then, one by one, they would just up and disappear, usually replaced quickly with a new lost soul. They came from all over the state when word got out that there was a safe haven for them to go to. If anyone would ask, the men folk told people that the transients had simply moved on and left the hollow. But, that wasn’t the case. Most times, no one even knew that they’d been here in the first place. Alexander ordered them killed and the men obeyed him, as though he were God. He had quite a hold over them. Blindly, they followed him. He told them that their families’ safety depended on their strict obedience and that they would all perish if the evil was not fed.”
Malachi slapped the side of the bricks. “This is it. My great-great grandfather spent a lot of time here. Good old Ambrose was known as ‘the cremator’.”
“They used this kiln for cremations?”
“Yep, dozens of them. They were ruthless.”
Travis flinched. “What did Marcus do?”
Malachi took a deep breath and sighed. He didn’t want to tell Travis the truth, but he’d come this far and might as well be completely honest. “Marcus was known as ‘the executioner.’ He was forced to carry out the wicked orders of Alexander. Our relatives were a murdering team. The area took on the name of Rogue’s Hollow around that time. It was a welcomed stop for the traveling rogues. Unfortunately, they never made their way out. It was the perfect plan. No one ever missed those lost and lonely wanderers. Alexander told the followers that he was visited by God one night. God told him that he was proud of the reformists and thanked them for ridding the world of unholy men.”
“How did Marcus kill them?”
“I’m not sure. Ambrose was never specific about that. Marcus would just bring him the body and he would place it into the fiery kiln. His journal said that he would keep guard over the bodies sometimes all night long, replenishing the fire, until there was nothing left but smoldering ash and a few bones that were crushed into powder. Ambrose also wrote that at times he would see demons in the fire, tearing at the flesh as it burned. Long fingernails would rip the sizzling flesh right off the bone. Their hallucinations were very vivid.”
Travis nodded. “Yeah, from what I could make out in the journal, they sounded kind of crazy.”
“They were crazy, son. At the end of Ambrose’s journal he spoke of disobedience amongst the covenant. If one of the men questioned the group’s ethics or wanted to leave, he was ordered killed. That was the hardest thing for our ancestors, killing off their friends and comrades. But, they did it anyway. They followed Alexander’s orders to a tee, right up until the end. They believed he was a prophet.”
“What happened in the end?”
Malachi shook his head. “No one really knows for sure. Ambrose’s journal just abruptly ended one day. But, one old timer that I spoke with told me that Marcus and Ambrose rose up against Alexander. He had lost most of his flock by that point. He ordered our ancestors killed, but the remaining men couldn’t bring themselves to do it. So, they knocked our kin unconscious, moved the rock and threw them into the mine shaft. Then, they sealed it back up and left them in there to rot. One man said that he came back and heard them screaming as though they were being tortured by the devil himself. He tried to move the boulder and let them out, but it was too heavy and eventually, he gave up. He and the remaining men snuck out that night and left town, fearing that they would surely be next. They left Alexander here alone with his hallucinations and God-complex.”
“What happened to Alexander?”
“No one seems to know. He just up and disappeared one day. Many years later, my great-grandpa came out here and revived the abandoned mill and the rest is history.”
“How come no one knows about any of this?”
Malachi rubbed his chin with his stumpy finger and smiled. “Folks think we’re crazy enough down here in the hollow. Can you imagine what they’d think if they knew the truth? I’d prefer they just think the place is haunted. And, to some extent, it is. I guess it’s just one of those dark family secrets. Most folks have them, don’t they?”
Travis nodded. “I guess so. From reading Ambrose’s journal, Marcus seemed pretty violent. He never really said what he did to the bodies, just that they were a mess when they reached the crematorium and that Marcus was always smiling. That’s kinda freaky. Almost like he enjoyed it or something.”
“Like I said, Travis, they were mad. The hallucinations must have been pretty bad by that point. But, at least he had enough sense to stand up to Alexander. His goodness came out in the end.”
“Yeah and you see where that got him. B
uried alive in the portal to hell.”
“Those were different times. There wasn’t much law back then. Folks just did whatever they pleased, especially out here in the hollow. From what I understand, the sheriff wouldn’t even come out to this area. The coal miners were such a rough crowd that the law just let them duke it out on their own. It was the perfect cover for our ancestors. They could move around amongst the roughians in town with no one to answer to, not even the law.
Eventually, they became very angry men. They’d started out believing that they were doing good, protecting the world from the evil that had been unleashed through the portal. But, in the end they became the evil.”
“It’s a secret worth keeping, son. Don’t you think?”
“Yeah. I can hear the townies now… gossiping day and night about us psychos out here.” Travis grinned. “It would draw more tourists to the area though.”
Nodding, Malachi agreed. “It probably would. But it would draw the wrong kind of crowd. I like it that folks come here just looking for an innocent scare. If this got out, people would be trespassing all over our land, searching for the portal and conjuring the evil. I don’t see how that would do anyone any good, do you?”
“No. You’re probably right. It does make for a great story though.”
“That it does, son. That it does.” Malachi reached over and grabbed his shoulder. “But it’s our story. You have to help me keep it a secret now, too. Deal?”
“Deal”
“Good. Let’s head on back? It’s time we open up shop.”
Malachi spent the next week worrying himself sick about the effect that knowing the truth would have on Travis. He was pleased to see that Travis’s confidence level was high and his dedication to Malachi and the mill appeared to be as strong as ever.
As the last tourists of the day clutched their amulets and scurried out of the store, Travis lifted the bottle of ‘angel blessing’ to place it back underneath the counter. He glanced over at Malachi who was flipping the sign to ‘Closed’ and turning off the front porch lights. Curiosity got the best of him. “Hey, what’s in this stuff anyway?”