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Rated: 18+ · Other · Horror/Scary · #2007961
This morning we drove up here and found the ruins.
My fiancé, Grace and I love hiking, being out in the woods and breathing in the fresh mountain air. Whenever we get a break we head out to a trail somewhere. It was pure luck for us that we had the chance to combine work and some leisure time so we jumped at the opportunity. This particular spot was new for us. A trail recommended by some guy we had met in a bar. “You will love it,” he told us. “It follows a creek and then heads up in to the mountain. About half way up is an old settlement. What's left of the foundations, they built those houses like a fortress. A castle in the middle of nowhere, like they were making sure that they kept the wilderness out.”

“Who were they?”

“All lost to time. Now a days no one knows. That place was a settlement back when we were still a colony.”

“Yeah, maybe George Washington slept there.” Some drunk across the bar chimed in.

“No. Just settlers out in the wilderness. Why they picked that spot only god knows. Story goes that they were outcasts of some sorts.

“Witches?” My fiancé looked at him trying to determine if he was lying. She and I had been professional ghost hunters since college and loved a good mystery, especially one wrapped up in history. We had done excursions like this before and considered ourselves fearless. It was all about the adrenaline for her and the science for me.

“Satan’s vacation home in the mountains. The place gives me the creeps” The drunk was not giving up his commentary.

“I think it might be a good spot for you to visit and see for yourselves.” The storyteller drew us a map on the back of the bar's drink menu.

This morning we drove up here and found the ruins. Flagstone walls, tumbled down chimneys now grown over. It was only really recognizable to those of us who know what they are looking at. There was something else. It sounds creepy but we both felt it, like we were being watched or judged as if there was someone or something else with us up there on the mountainside.

Late afternoon we found it. There were some trees sort of tumbling in and at the same time sort of hanging on to the surface. Their trunks growing parallel to the ground as they were slowly being devoured, sucked in to a very deep black hole.

Grace tossed a stone. It seemed to fall forever. The thud as it hit bottom was subtle. I tossed a glow stick and we both watched as it fell and disappeared in to the black. And then.

It was melodic, faint but melodic. We thought it might be the wind moving in and about through the trees across the mouth of the hole like one blows across the top of a beer bottle. We were mesmerized by the sound and just as suddenly as it started it began to change pitch. It went higher and then dropped. It was a song. It sounded familiar. We both recognized the melody and we began to hum along trying to recall the words. Staring at one another we realized that our breathing had been accelerated, the tune was heightening our senses and all of a sudden we were very aware of one another.

The voice sounded like a young girl. The words she sang were inaudible, but definitely it was a young girl's voice. We flipped to see who would go down first. Grace won. I kissed her cheek for luck. “Love you,” she said as she hooked herself up in to a harness. I watched as she repelled from the surface down in to the dark. Her headlamp lit the way as she spoke in to a headset and described her descent. About fifty feet down she found a set of stairs jutting out of the wall. Stone steps carved right from the rock. “Amazing. You have to see this. It is beautiful. The steps seem to go on and on. I hit bottom. There is a series of tunnels. Slack.”

“That's all the rope,” I radioed back.

“Going off line.”

“No, please don't.”

“I have to. I have to see. It's so beautiful down here. You have to see this. My god there is a light.”

“Grace? Grace. Grace?”

Silence. I don't know how long there was silence. The melody stopped, the singing stopped and there has been no word from Grace.

I have included our contact information if and when anyone finds this notebook. There is no phone service here, but we have our phones. I left then numbers in the notebook. I have to go down. I have to follow her. I have to try to save her. If she needs to be saved. About ten minutes ago the singing started again.


Words:818
© Copyright 2014 Duane Engelhardt (dmengel54 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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