ABSOLUTELY NO ACCESS
By order of the United States Government.
TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED
Kelsie gripped the fence, peering through at the road snaking out of sight to the left, unsure if she was more relieved or saddened that she wouldn’t get to see the town. Without thinking about it, she took her camera which was an ever present around her neck and snapped a few photos of the fence.
“Looks like there were guards here,” Dave said, poking his head into the cabin. “Although, not for at least a couple of years by the looks of things.”
“So what do we do now if we can’t get in?” Lucy asked as she leaned on the front of the jeep.
“Maybe we can go around?” Dani said, joining Dave in looking in the empty shell of a guard house.
“No chance. I’m not leaving the jeep out here to go getting lost in the forest. Even if I did, we have way too much equipment to carry by hand.”
“So what do we do now?” Kelsie asked, unable to tear her eyes away from the road on the opposite side of the fence.
“Wait here a second,” Dave replied, striding back towards the jeep.
“Hey, look at this,” Dani said, walking out of the broken hut. “Looks like a work schedule for the guards here. There’s a map of the town.”
Lucy and Kelsie stood at Dani’s shoulder, looking at the dirty clipboard in her hands. The map clipped to it was faded from its exposure to the elements, but not enough so they couldn’t make out the layout of the buildings. All of them were silent drawn to the same area on the page, one which served to add to the intrigue. At the top left, away from the main bulk of the town, was a section of the forest marked in red pen, beside which was scrawled: Exclusion Zone. NO solo patrols. NO stays longer than 00:20MINS. ALL patrols to be pre-authorized by General Kimmel.
“That must be it, where the hotel is,” Kelsie said as another wave of goosebumps washed over her despite the relative warmth of the day. She took her camera and adjusted the focus, taking a photo of the weather-beaten map.
“It has to be,” Dani added. “If even the military were cautious of it, maybe there is something in the stories.”
“Nah, it’s unlikely,” Dave replied as he strode back towards them, bolt cutters swinging in his free hand. “Most probably just because that’s the area most people want to see. It’s the same way car crash sites and crime scenes are taped off. Keeps the curious away.”
“What the hell do you intend to do with those?” Kelsie asked, for now not wanting to get into another debate about the supernatural.
“What do you think? I’m going to cut the padlock off the gate so we can get in.”
“We can’t do that, this is off limits. Besides which it’s not legal.”
“So are most of the places we explore, same applies to the legality aspect. Worst case we might get a slap on the wrists again.” Dave said, a frown appearing on his brow.
“Not by the government. This is different.” Kelsie said, the camera still held and for now forgotten.
“You worry too much. Nobody has been here for years, just look at the place, it’s deserted.”
“He’s right, this place is dead,” Lucy mumbled, rattling the fence for good measure.
“That doesn’t give us the right to break in.” Kelsie countered, glaring at her friend.
“This is public land, they have no right to stop us from entering it without a damn good reason,” Dave said, looking to Lucy for support. She, however, was staring at her feet, kicking up dust on the edge of the road and doing everything she could to avoid the conflict.
Maybe they have a good reason.” Kelsie said.
“You worry too much,” Dave said with a grin, then before any more could be said, he cut the chain, which was rusted and gave little resistance. “Well, no point arguing about it now,” he said as he opened the gates, shoving them back towards the edges of the road.
Kelsie glared at him. He grinned and looked at Dani and Lucy.
“Right, let’s go take a look shall we?” he said as he walked back to the car.
The others followed. Kelsie hesitated for a moment, then realising she had no option, joined her friends. Dave slipped the jeep into gear and drove through the gates towards Oakwell.
II
Dani walked down the centre of Main Street, kicking at the weeds which had pushed their way through the blacktop in the intervening years since the town had been closed. The road ran like a shrivelled artery through the overgrown and crumbling town, which was already very much in the merciless grip of mother nature. Like the rest of the group, she was in awe at her surroundings. Places which were once a thriving part of the small, hardworking community of Oakwell were now boarded up, graffiti covered shells, many not far from total collapse into their foundations. Spoiled for choice, the group had walked the streets, poking around the deserted town at their leisure.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Dave said as he peered between the broken boards covering a store window.
“Chernobyl?” Dani mumbled as she followed a few feet behind, having heard the story of his sister funding the trip at least fifty times before.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“You’ve been there, haven’t you, Dave?” Lucy asked, catching Dani’s eye and playing along.
“For my thirty fifth birthday. My sister paid for it. This place has a very similar feel. It’s like it’s dead, but also alive.”
“Hey, look at this,” Kelsie said. She was a little way down the street, standing in the door less shell of an old diner, its black and white chequered floors filthy and covered with a blanket of dead leaves, the menus still on the tables faded and yellowed by the sun. She snapped another couple of photos as she waited for the others to join her.
“What is it?” Dani said as the group crowded around her.
“Graffiti, although it’s pretty spectacular,” Kelsie muttered as she took more photographs.
The group stood in silence, staring at the artwork which adorned the entire eastern wall of the building. Even though the plaster was cracked and the paintwork faded by the sun, it didn’t hide both how talented and possibly deranged its creator was. It was at first glance a nature scene. Great trees growing around the house in the centre of the piece. The artist had daubed sunlight in diffused patterns laying across half of the property, which was expertly painted in yellows, browns and greens. At first glance, it was almost perfectly natural until the text daubed in sharp red font across the top of the art encouraged the viewer to look deeper.
The trees which at first glance seemed natural were curved towards the house, almost seeming to reach out for it with branches which looked like withered hands. The house itself also seemed off somehow, as if the angles didn’t quite fit together properly. It could have been forgiven as the artist perhaps not having a full grasp on perspective, if not for the flawless creation of the rest of the work. It seemed that for whatever reason, the design decision had been taken to give the walls of the property the kind of nauseating angles which made the viewer uncomfortable. A thin ground mist covered the ground in the scene, clinging to the trunks of the trees. Upon closer inspection, the mists were made up of countless faces, some nothing more than vague forms penned into the curls and tendrils. Every one of the ethereal faces was screaming. Between the trees were animals, which at first seemed to be lying on the ground, perhaps hunting. On closer inspection, there was a lifelessness to the way they had been painted, eyes dead, and on the deer painted closest to the front of the foliage, a sliver of red was visible in the shadow under the beast’s neck, implying its throat had been cut. Most disturbing of all, however, was the house itself. In the upper window of the upstairs bedroom, a light was on, casting its yellow glow out into the dusk. In the room was the vague figure of a faceless man holding a baby under one arm. It appeared at first glance that he was holding up the curtain with the other, perhaps to look out at the night. Either by design or some kind of trick on the brain, the
scratched nature of the way the curtain had been penned made it resemble not cloth, but a sharp bladed knife which he was holding above the child, perhaps ready to sacrifice to whatever waited for him out in the dark. The aforementioned writing above the piece, perhaps its title, fit the image perfectly. It read:
The truth is no words
“I don’t like that,” Lucy said, saying what everyone else was thinking.
Kelsie barely heard her. She snapped picture after picture, the sinister image almost taking on a life of its own at the end of her camera lens. She heard her friends discussing everything that was wrong with the painting. She had no interest in that. She had already made up her mind and decided it was beautiful. She stepped further into the diner, adjusting her angle and focus on ensuring she got enough images. She zoomed in, able to really see the artistry. It almost seemed to resonate with an energy of its own, as if it were something created just for her, something that had waited there in the silence of the abandoned town for her to discover, and was now showing itself to her in all its glory. She took another step closer, lowering the camera. She had a bizarre impulse to touch it, to press her hand or perhaps her face to that cold concrete wall, to breathe in the paint. She wondered if she would smell the scents of the things that had been painted. The rot of earth, the sweetness of grass and leaves, the copper of blood.
That was an idea that half snapped her from her daze. She blinked, surprised to see her hand outstretched, palm flat just inches from the wall. She pulled it away and took a cautious step back. From her position, she was eye height with the painted form of the man in the upstairs window. She could see that he had been painted without a face quite deliberately. There was ample space to add in his facial details, indeed, the artist had gone to painstaking trouble to paint in the rest of the furniture in the room.
At least the grandfather clock has a face.
It came to her out of nowhere, and she almost cackled out loud. Indeed it was true. The tiny grandfather clock which was an incidental detail in the background behind man and baby was intricately painted in great detail, which made the faceless man more disturbing.
“I bet that’s supposed to be Hope House before the fire,” Dave said, glancing at Dani and Lucy.
“Whatever it is, I don’t like it,” Lucy said, grimacing a little. “I mean, artistically it's well done, there’s just something… off about it.”
“We should go up there.”
They looked at Kelsie for an explanation, who returned their stares. She didn’t intend to say it, nor had the thought even consciously entered her head.
“She’s right,” Dave added. “That’s where the real story is here.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”
“Who said anything about ghosts? I’m curious to see the place, that’s all.”
“It shouldn’t be too hard to find,” Lucy said, anxious to leave the ghastly mural behind. “The turnoff supposedly cuts through the woods as you head through town.”
“Alright then,” Dave said, clapping his hands together. “That’s settled. Let’s go take a look.”
Kelsie followed them back towards the jeep, unsure what was worse. That she was utterly terrified to go up there, or that she was certain she could feel the faceless man on the wall watching her as she went.
II
They almost missed the road leading towards the hotel. Set back against the backdrop of oaks and birches, it would have been easy enough to miss even in ideal conditions. However, someone had gone to great lengths to further hide it and had covered the road with branches and fauna in an effort to mask the entrance. It was only by chance that Dave saw it as he passed, slamming on the brakes and reversing back to where the road forked.
“This looks like it,” he said, rolling the window down and staring at the rutted dirt road ahead.
Before anyone could protest, he was out of the car dragging the tangled network of branches back off the road. Kelsie tried to ignore the simmering feeling of unease in the pit of her stomach, and couldn’t help but flick regular glances down the rutted dirt track and the secrets it held. The trees made a roof of sorts, enclosing the road with intertwined branches it could almost be beautiful if not for the slightly sinister vibe it gave off. Sunlight shimmered between the branches, dancing across the road and playing tricks on her eyes. She imagined shapes, human like figures crouching in the shadows. An image came to her then, a vivid and detailed scene reminiscent of the painting on the diner wall, one which frightened her with how vivid and real it was. She saw blood, her blood as her friends looked upon her shattered and dismembered body. Words entered her mind, their origin as alien as the accompanying imagery.
People will die here.
She looked at her friends as they worked and wondered which of them it would be. Another thought, as alien and invasive as the last pulled itself through her brain like a thick, black slug.
Life will blossom from death.
She had no idea what that meant and looked again into the darkened spaces within the trees.
“A little help here?” Dave said between panting breaths.
“Sorry,” she said as she stopped staring and forced herself to ignore her discomfort.
Twenty minutes later, the road was cleared, and they were back underway.
Silence filled the vehicle. Kelsie wondered if perhaps her friends also felt the subtle shift in atmosphere. Even Dave seemed more focused, brow furrowed as he navigated the road, stones and branches crunching under the wheels of the vehicle. It was almost as if the forest had swallowed them and they were moving down its gullet towards whatever resided in its gut. Kelsie glanced out of the window, hating how close the trees were. She could feel them scraping on the car, and imagined them as gnarled clawed hands from the painting on the diner wall reaching out for them.
“You okay Rach?” Dani asked.
“I’m fine.”
It went on, a seemingly endless mental torture as they went deeper into the forest.
“Here we are,” Dave said as the tunnel like confines of the road ahead filled with light. They rolled out into the clearing, all taking a moment to appreciate the view.
Kelsie was initially disappointed. She had set her mind on seeing a replica of the diner painting, and although the scenery was similar, the actual view was very different.
The hotel grounds were overgrown, patches of the ground discoloured where tents and temporary buildings once stood. The hotel itself was imposing, the doors and lower windows covered with steel sheeting designed to keep the curious out. Like the town of Oakwell, nature was doing a fine job at reclaiming the land from the most recent man made addition to its territory. Thick branches already snaked up the side of the building. Clawing their way towards the sun. On the steel sheet covering what was once the main entrance to the building was a carbon copy of the sign which had greeted them on the outskirts of the town when they had first arrived.
ABSOLUTELY NO ACCESS
By order of the United States Government.
TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED
“What a vibe. This place feels weird.” Lucy said as they climbed out of the jeep
“It’s your imagination,” Dave said. “It’s because you know the history of the place. You know what happened here and your mind is playing tricks on you.”
“Don’t you feel anything strange about this place?”
“Oh, there’s a certain ambience, I’ll give you that. But why wouldn’t it? An abandoned building in the middle of nowhere with a history like this one would make anyone uneasy.”
“Even you?” Dani asked.
“If you’re asking if I’m scared, the answer is no. intrigued, yes. But not afraid.”
"So what do we do now?" Kelsie asked as she grabbed her camera and took some shots of the hotel and trees, still searching for the mental connection between it and the painting.
“Plan is the same as before. We set up camp and begin our exploration tomorrow. This i
s as good a place as any to do it."
Hot, aggressive fear surged through Kelsie, which she just about managed to hide. She hoped somebody – perhaps Lucy – would speak up and say how much of a bad idea it was, but even she didn’t seem against it. Kelsie wondered why it was only her who was so affected by the place and considered the idea that she was being stupid and was being irrationally spooked.
"Alright," Dave said, clapping his hands together. "Let’s get the gear unloaded and maybe do a blog update for the website."
"Good luck with that," Dani said as she stared at her phone. "No service here."
"Me either," Lucy added.
"To be expected I suppose. Comes with being so far away from society." Dave added as he walked towards the car. "Either way, we're losing the light. Let's get this camp set up and a fire going, then we can worry about the lack of coverage."
III
By the time they had set up their tents in a rough circle in the car park, night was almost with them. As was the way with such things as scares and nightmares, Kelsie had managed to forget her initial fears and was now almost relaxed as she sipped coffee from a thermos, mesmerised by the glow of the fire. Beyond it, almost invisible in the opaque shadows of the surrounding forest, stood the hotel. She had initially sat with it at her back, however, she became increasingly uneasy with it behind her, and felt incredibly exposed, as if it were watching her, it's hollow, derelict windows like the eyes of some abomination which had no place in the living world. She much preferred to have it in front of her. Being able to see it made it easier.
The rest of the group were chatting, although she had no idea of the subject matter as she hadn't been listening. She tuned in for a moment to see if it was anything of interest. It seemed that Dave and Dani were bickering again. This time about the morality of exploring a place where lives had been lost. Dave’s counter argument was that almost every building on earth had experienced death at some point or another, including many of the places they had explored in the past. Losing interest, she zoned out again and readjusted her position. As she did, her foot touched something buried in the dirt. She glanced at her friends, pleased to see they were either involved or enthralled by Dave and Dani’s discussion, which was becoming increasingly heated. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to the sliver of plastic she had uncovered. Casually so as not to draw attention, she brushed away gravel and dirt so she could better see her discovery. She put her backpack in front of it, protecting it from the eye line of the others, then casually lifted it from the dirt, the worms and woodlouse which had been nestled underneath squirming or scurrying for darker places respectively.
Whisper: The untold stories Page 10