Night Breathers

Night Breathers

Many tales had been whispered about Heathens Way. Bizarre, abnormal things happened in that strangle little town. In 1858 an architect called Finnegan Hunch stumbled across the land on a hike up the great Ozark mountains. He found himself in a vast wasteland of bogs, fir trees and all kinds of exotic fruits and flower, the place seemed to excude a sweet, almost sickly scent that made him feel woozy.

As the day wore on he grew tired of exploring the mystical town's nooks and crannies, so on a bed of soft ivy he lay down his head and began to slip away into a deep slumber. As Hunch slept quite happily on the vibrant forest floor something began to rustle in the fir trees; two beady, blue cat eyes glared at him through the black of night. The beam of light made him stir and he woke up quite suddenly. He became extremely unsettled as he noticed hundreds of blinking eyes staring back at him. They crept from the great fir leaves and viciously pointed arrows coated in animal skin at Hunch.

“Have mercy!” he cried. The creatures paused, seemingly surprised by his brashness. It was as though they sympathised with this peculiar stranger who still quivered in fear. As the crowd of glittering eyes gathered slowly around poor Hunch, a comforting warm light settled over them revealing their true identity.

There before him stood an ancient tribe. They had golden skin ruptured by the harsh climates they lived under. Each member adorned beautiful black locks and were enscrolled with swirling golden patterns. These were tattoos. Hunch felt overwhelmed with awe, they appeared inhuman, each as majestic in form as a work of art. The tribes Cheif approached the small man with some caution, he preceded to tell him they would let him into their mystical land if he could prove himself wise and deserving enough to understand their lifestyle. He began to tell Hunch in a great, booming voice the story of their tribe. They were descendants of the Shampe tribe, the name belonging to a bloodcurdling monster that terrified any person was to lay eyes on it, yet it was harmless. Heaven's Way had belonged to them for centuries and within it's stone walls grew something quite extraordinary, something that lured the tribe into its depths in the first place. What he was referring to was the intoxicatingly beautiful, purple flowers that snaked along the ground and wrapped around the fir trees like ivy. They were a bright indigo colour and glittered in the night sky.

They were called Night Breathers as they hibernated in the day and rumour had it anyone that breathed in their scent for over a fortnight would be gifted with magical powers. However this was merely legend. Despite the town being rich with fruit and nature, the tribe was starving as the animals they had once hunted were dying from unknown causes and it hadn’t rained in a year so nutrition was declining.

Hunch fell in love with the tribe’s way of life and how freeing their culture was, they took him in as one of their own and in return he promised to build them a wonderful town so bright and beautiful that travelers from a far would journey to its peaks and soon trade would make the place thrive again. So with his bare hands he built miraculous tall buildings threaded with flowers and jewels and huts weaved out of fir trees with tunnels that led through the forests to the river where they could hunt fish of all colors of the rainbow.

One of the natives was a weaver and designer so he hired him to sew garments fit for a king, he threaded silk gold taffeta dresses for the women and bright aqua cloaks for the men. He named the place Heathens Way as a reminder of the mythical legends of the tribe. After years past onlookers became envious of the towns beauty and decided to destroy it. They threatened the tribe and Hunch by burning their wares and drove them to insanity with fear. The purple flower was said to leak into the air making anyone that lived there mystically gifted, the people used this power to drive away their enemies. Soon they became a town secluded in fear and Hunch hid away in the old treehouse he’d built for a home never to be seen again until he was discovered dead in 1908.

Even after his many years of seclusion the town decided to honor his achievements by celebrating his birthday every year. Even to this very day in 2016 the town would organize a wonderful festival of colors and light torches around the old tree house that had once belonged to him. It was said that Hunch haunted it and chilling noises were often heard echoing from its walls. Some children whispered that the inhaling of the purple flower that was woven into his house turned him into a terrifying monster but that was only myth.

Heathens Way was now home to a variety of colourful families, some traveling from far and wide to settle in these parts and in turn each had their own way of celebrating ‘Hunch Day.’ The town’s most well known members included the Shampe family; distant descendants of the tribe themselves, each one of them owning long, lustrous black locks and were painted in golden ink symbolic of traditional tribal tattoos. They were often referred to as the glowworms as at night they glowed in the dark. They were renowned for their glittering neon wall hangings they designed to represent Hunch’s story.

The Carsons lived in a ratty old barn on the tip of a cliff edge, the place was called Death Point, as things and creatures had been known to stumble off the tip of the cliff. It was in one of the most desolute and remote areas of Heathens Way and often at night you could hear the gentle buzz of bullets colliding into flesh. The men were known for their whispy manes that seemed to resemble horsetails framing their wizard like beards. The leader of the pack was known as Shifty Brown as he always wore a brown military jacket and held one finger tightly on the trigger of his Winchester. They were unsettling with their tough disposition and loud; not just vocally but in their fashion choices. The women for instance liked their bright red tattoos to resemble pop-art and adorned basic rustic attire. Although the Carson's didn't care much for Hunch, every year they would go all out on a trophy hunt and try and out do themselves with an even larger beast to present at his birthday feast.

It was a week to go until the famous day when a stranger found themselves scaling the edge of the cliff. Equipped with their finest rock climbing gear they wanted to have a look at the eerie ghost town. They'd heard tales of the place and knew it was time that they too, a traveler from a far, went to see for themselves the supposedly mystical place.

It was upon the witching hour and the sky was covered by a blanket of coal. They gripped tightly onto the dusty ridge and heaved themselves onto the mossy land to find themselves in a swamp of trees and whimsical swirling flowers.

As they breathed in the damp air a glorious sweet scent filled their nostrils like honey comb, chocolate and a freshly baked cake all in one. They wondered what could possibly posses such an intoxicating smell. Just as they placed two firm palms against its delicate petals a large figure emerged towards them shaking his fist.

"Trespasser! This is private property." "Why are you here?"

The small man cleared his throat and looked up into faceless glare of a giant. "Sir...my name is Jebiziah Hunch, and I'm here to see my father."

The startled figure hesitated, "But weren't you told?"

The small man shook his head and shrugged, "No my father abandoned my family a long time, but my mother's been very sick and we lost a great sum of money, so I thought I'd find him."

As it once had with his dad a warm light hung about the sky and fell across the two men revealing them in pure sight. The man was Bruce Shampe one of the oldest leaders of the tribe, he had once battled against the vengeful trespassers desperate on destroying the town.

"You shouldn't of come here." Hunch shook his head, he refused to turn back so Bruce led him along the rocky cliff edge back towards the heart of the forest and the town's centre. A blue light spread about the rickety path it came from an old gas station which was painted in neon signs and damaged posters. Beside it was a bar that seemed to be quite dead it's walls were bright blue and metallic gold painted with hibiscus flowers, the strange purple flowered glowed about it hidden beneath dark green ivy.

"What's with the flowers?" He asked inquisitively.

"They grow in the mountains, have done for centuries-"

"-I heard they're laced with magic, of course that's only legend but there are so many stories."

"My friend respectfully, you should learn to not be so curious this town has some dark secrets and unless you choose to stay I don't believe your prepared to hear them."

Hunch laughed a little,"You sound like dad, he used to tell me not to be so inquisitive."

Bruce paused looking a little baffled for a man with so much wisdom and experience he still struggled to tell a man his father had died. He wondered if Jebeziah knew.

"He's with the spirits now."

Hunch stopped and tilted his head a little to the left, then shook his shoulders.

"Sorry?"

Bruce pointed at an ancient church off into the distance, nestled beneath the great shimmering moon.

"The native people have always believed that souls like Mr Hunch are given back to the earth, they fly with the wind and live on in the Great mountains."

"He died?"

Bruce slowly declined his long neck from his great height and gave him a strange, longing stare.

"Yes. But son be strong, your father was a great man and he inspired us all with his wisdom."

"Yet he abandoned us." Hunch sniffed a little then turned to look out onto the world that slept beneath the great mountains, where the moon dust danced against the wind and glimmers of distant city lights seemed to glow like stars. "I'll never know why mum was so devoted to him. She gave him all she had and all he gave her were memories, no goodbye, and then a son who would grow up always wondering about his 'heroic father'."

Bruce continued his way down the path making their way into the mossy centre where lots of houses were stacked and strange tree carved buildings were placed. He cleared his throat and quickened his pace. Yet Hunch just stopped, put his face in his palms and became still as the night.

Then he whispered one little utterance, "Do you think the bars still open?"

After a while Hunch built the courage to take another step and they had began to make significant progress on their journey through the town. Bruce led him up to a small oak gate smothered by very tall fir trees, behind it was something that resembled a large dilapidated tree house...

As the town counted down the days to Hunch day the mysterious new occupant of Heathen's Way became ever more mysterious. The eerie wooden shack that lay deep in the darkest part of the rocky mountain way, seemed to shimmer in the vacant moonlight. Hunch jr. put his spin on it, he delicately placed little lights in jars about the roof to make it glow and painted a skyline on a large canvas which he hung in his bedroom beside a portrait of another great explorer. But something wasn't right, he was trying to make the place feel like a home, but it just didn't. He still felt alone, and empty as before. He even felt a little broken, but time to seemed to slip by without him. He would never hear his father tell him he appreciated him, that was all a distant fairytale. Bruce had told him the remaining native people that lived in the town often gathered these tasty red berries that grew in the woods, although their appearance was harrowing with their blood coloured outer layer, the juice inside was sweet like sugar. That way they were called Cloaked Devil's and so Hunch Jr. decided in order to take his mind of his dad's death he could go and pick some berries. And maybe see some interesting sights on his way.