Dale Humperdinck

I had to stop Dale. What he did to Jimmy's son was unthinkable. That rat bastard had gone way too far, and someone had to stop him. I had to find that bastard, but he disappeared after he did what he did. I knew who could find him though, but it would cost. The cost didn't matter none considering what was at stake.


That night the woods were dark. It had to be around one in the morning, and the moon was full. I couldn’t let anyone know what I was up to. Lord, what would people think? After I searched for close to an hour I finally found the path leading up to the mountain. It was wet and muddy, the sticky kind of mud that grabs ahold of your boots. Running up the trail was a thick rope for grabbing ahold of, and to provide assistance in fighting off the mud. I slowly made my way up the trail stepping over fallen branches and misplaced stones. The trees were so thick; I could barely see where I was heading despite the full moon. I continued on, and when I got closer to the top I noticed strange creatures staring down at me. Startled, I stopped and took a deep breath, but I only managed a gasp.


“Lord, thou art in heaven, thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven,” I prayed.


The creatures were fearsome. From a distance I could see sharp teeth and claws snarling down at me. I gathered my courage, and put one foot in front of the other. As I got closer, with what little light my eyes could gather; I could finally make out what these creatures actually were. There were several, maybe five or six. Skulls of opossums and raccoons impaled, displayed and arranged in a purposefully fearsome manner. The skulls were painted with dried blood, and attached to the poles were bear claws reaching down at me. This is part of the legend. Not a child in Turkey Hollow went without hearing about her guardians, and how disgusting and frightening they were. I closed my eyes, and moved past them. I had to find courage, so I began thinking of Jimmy’s son, and how much life he had in him. Life that was taken from him without his consent. I opened my eyes, and to my surprise I was less than three feet from her door. The house, if you could call it a house, seemed ancient. The roof was sunken in, and the shingles were falling off. The walls were made of rotted out knotted wood. The legend said that she had been here since before Turkey Hollow had been founded; close to two centuries. Well, I don’t know much about legends, but it can’t be possible for anyone to live that long. I held my breath, and slowly pulled my way through the mud to her front door. The door had strange symbols drawn on it. I remember my grandmother showing me a book once. It was a book from ancient Ireland where our ancestors came from. The book had pictures of old stones with those same symbols! My grandmother said the symbols were drawn and carved by the droods, or druids. I can’t remember their names, but I do remember those symbols! She called the symbols runes, and told me it was their magic; a type of old magic. I suddenly felt a mix of both fear and excitement, or maybe it was just fear. The two emotions can be similar, and hard to separate. I took a deep breath, balled my fist, and knocked on her door.


She didn’t answer. I knocked again, but louder this time. Still, no response. I started to believe that I came all this way for nothing, but as I was raising my hand to knock one more time; I heard something move inside. I held my breath not knowing what would happen next. All of a sudden I heard something heavy at the door move, and a thin beam of light shined through as the door opened. I had anticipated this all night, but there was nothing. The door opened, but I didn’t see anyone. I once again gathered my courage, but there was none to be found. I searched my pockets and produced a bottle of Kentucky’s finest bourbon. I pressed the bottle to my lips and took a long pull. I could feel the warm liquid travel down my throat, and into my stomach. The warmth radiated slowly throughout my entire body. Within a few seconds I had finally found my courage to enter the old shack. I peeked inside first, but strangely I didn’t see anything; just an empty room. I decided that my caution was foolish, and I pushed open the door, and stepped inside. Once I was completely inside, a fire place lit up, but the room remained empty. The room was somewhat dark, and all that could truly be seen were the shadows. Next to the shadows of dark flames dancing on the wall was the dark shadow of a rocking chair rocking back and forth, but there wasn’t a rocking chair to be seen inside the room. I suddenly felt my warm courage leave my body as I stepped closer to the rocking chair shadow. To my horror, inside the rocking chair was the shadow of an old woman. She didn’t have a face, but you could tell by the way she held herself, and by her silhouette that she was ancient. As I moved in closer the rocking chair stopped rocking, and the old woman turned her head. The dark and empty shadow of her head began to take form. Where there was nothing had quickly become a face. I could see empty holes for eyes staring back at me. I felt the blood rush from my head, and I began to shake uncontrollably. I reached inside my pocket for my courage, and as I did the old woman leaned in closer.


“You’ll find no courage there, son,” Said the shadow.


My eyes opened widely and I froze. My disbelief had overcome my fear. I looked into her dark, black face and I said, “Yes Ma’am.”


The ancient shadow looked through me, and then it began to laugh. Myself, fully overcome by disbelief, just stood there gently fingering my pint of bourbon inside my pocket.


“Why does he come to see Old Mama?” Said the shadow.


“I come to ask after someone.”


“Surely you don’t need Old Mama’ for that?”


“Who I come for has gone missin’, and after he did what he did he just up and disappeared.”


The ancient shadow leaned back in her chair and then sprang up like a rabbit startled while hiding in a field. She then turned towards me, and the shadow began to take form as she came closer. Then, as if my disbelief couldn’t get any worse the shadow stepped from the wall, and took her complete form as an old woman. There she was outside the wall, and inside the shack standing next to the fireplace. To see her take full corporeal form from a shadow was shocking to say the least. It couldn’t be helped, so I reached inside my trouser pocket, grabbed my bottle of bourbon, and finished it off. Now to be honest I was pretty lit up by then, but I didn’t think it’d make no difference to some witch. Who could blame me after seeing what I had just saw? I wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my arm and kept my eyes fixed firmly on Old Mama. She was wearing a dress from what seemed a hundred years past. Not just in fashion, but also condition. Her dress hung on her in tatters; around her neck were bones. I couldn’t exactly tell what kind, but they looked like the bones of some bird. Her hair was unkempt, and looked like a bird’s nest made of straw. She looked every bit of what the legend described. Old Mama was sizing me up the same way I was her. Her eyes were glossy, milky and white. She stared at me with those milky white eyes. They appeared blank, but there was something in them.


“Who have you come here to find?” said Old Mama.


“Dale Humperdinck,” I said.


The old woman looked at me strange with those empty white eyes.


“We can find him, but it will cost you. Do you understand the cost?”


“I know it’ll cost, I just hope I can pay.”


“Oh, you will pay. The bones will tell us the cost. The bones never lie.”


The old woman reached for the necklace around her thin, dusty neck. I could see clearly now that they were some chicken bones with the same carvings I saw on her door. She unlaced them and threw them on the floor. She began to mutter some words in a language that sounded old and ancient. When she was finished, she looked at me.


“Hold out your arm,” Said Old Mama.


I took my fingers off of the bottle in my pocket, and removed my hand. I raised my arm, but hesitated. She gave me a cold look. I conceded and held my right arm up to her. She looked at me intensely with those busy blank eyes.


“Blood will have blood,” She said.


The old woman took out a knife carved from old bone, and sliced my arm deep. Blood spilled out all over the chicken bones. The old witch cackled loudly and began muttering her old dead language again. Suddenly, lightning flashed and I could hear thunder. The old witch’s words began to build up in intensity. As her intensity built, so did the fire’s. The flames were crackling and dancing in circles within the fireplace. The heat, oh my, the heat was burning my flesh. Sweat rolled down my face and into my eyes stinging them. My shirt was soaked and stuck to me like a second layer of skin. I looked down and I saw the bones. The blood on the bones were boiling and bubbling. The runes etched into the bones were steaming and as quickly as it began it had all stopped. The fire died down, and the heat dissipated. I was cold now, and I began to shiver. The bones seemed to grow colder as Old Mama finished her ritual. My arm hung there while blood poured out pooling on the floor. Old Mama stepped away toward her wall, and reached her thin, boney arm inside. Her hand came out holding a large jar of clear, but yellow liquid. She reached her other hand in, and out came a small sack. Old Mama walked back over to where I was standing. I could barely stand as my life poured out of me. She grabbed my arm with a firm grip; her nails practically piercing my skin. In her other hand she held the small sack. She opened the sack, and inside was some sort of sticky salve. She took her bony finger and applied the salve to my wound. It was foul smelling, and it stung something awful. To my shock the pain started to go away, and she handed me the jar of clear, yellow liquid.


“More courage. You’ll need it for what’s to come.” Said the Witch.


I unscrewed the jar, and my nose instantly jerked my head back. It smelled of strong alcohol, and I quickly recognized it for what it was; it was some type of shine. I pressed the opening of the jar to my lips. It was cold, but when I drank the liquid it was hot. The hot liquid coursed through my arms, and into the rest of my body. The pain began to leave me, and to my astonishment the wound on my arm began to knit back together. I emptied the jar, and I had this strange feeling of intoxication and health. Old Mama was watching me quietly with a look of curiosity on her face.


“Are you ready?”


“I believe so.”


The old witch walked up to me and crouched.


“The bones have told me where you can find Mr. Humperdinck.”


My eyes winced at the sound of his name. I crouched down next to her clumsily, and I about fell over.


“So where can I find him? I must know, because he has to pay.”


“The bones say he can be found in the darkness; in the heart of darkness,” She said.


I stood up quickly, but I almost fell over. I found my footing and stared into the fire.


“I have no idea where to even begin.” I said.


“The bones are never straight and plain; the bones are never wrong. You must find your heart of darkness, and you will find Dale Humperdinck.”


I looked at her dumbfounded. I couldn’t for the life of me conjure a solution to this puzzle.


“You must leave now,” Said Old Mama.


“I need more though. That’s not enough, and I haven’t even paid you. How do I pay you?”


“You’ll pay soon enough.” Said Old Mama cackling.


I looked at her, and then everything went black. I woke up outside of the shack. I stood up and banged on her door, but there was no light, no fire, no movement. I let out a sigh, and turned back towards the path. It was much easier going down than it was going up. Despite the storm, and the rain I was back at the mouth of the forest before too long. I saw my old black ford parked beside the road. I climbed in and considered my puzzle once more. Where can I find this darkness I thought to myself. Lightning flashed, and I could see Old Mama’s shack. I shuddered, and put my key in the ignition. I turned the key, shifted and drove back to my house.


My house was small, and only one story. The yard needed mowing, but I’d been too busy. I walked up to the front door, and to my surprise it was standing open. I began to shake uncontrollably. Who could be here, I wondered? I pushed the door open gently, and scanned the front room. It was dark, and I saw no movement.


“Who’s there? Come out! I have a gun!” I yelled.


I had no gun; I didn’t have anything, so I stepped inside slowly. I searched around the front room, but I didn’t see any signs of disturbance. I went into the hallway where the closet was, and I was surprised that inside my shotgun still remained. I grabbed my old shotgun, and turned towards the kitchen. I raised the shotgun, and stepped quickly into the kitchen. Again, there was nobody. I looked around, but nothing seemed to be disturbed inside the kitchen. I made my way to the freezer, and grabbed a bottle of vodka. I guess I must’ve left the door open when I left. I took a long drink from the bottle, and made my way to the bedroom. I rubbed my eyes with one hand; my other hand was gripping the gun. I walked into the bedroom, and sat down on my bed. It had been a long night, and I was ready to get some sleep. I allowed my mind to consider what Old Mama meant by darkness, or the heart of darkness. I took a drink from the bottle, and then I saw him. Only for a split second, but I saw his reflection in the window. He was behind me, so I raised my shotgun in a haste and whirled around. In my confused, and drunken state I pulled the trigger, and the barrel jerked up putting a hole in my roof, and knocked me to the floor. I quickly stood up, but Dale was gone. I ran to the front door, and it stood open again! I ran through, but I tripped over the rug in the doorway, and I hit the floor hard. The shotgun must’ve left my hands, because it hit the floor, and fired once more shattering my front room window. All I could hear was ringing in my ears as Dale got away. After I regained my senses I stood up and stumbled to my couch.


I was this close to avenging Jimmy’s son, but the bastard got away. I looked around, but I couldn’t find my bottle anywhere. I left it in the bedroom, but I couldn’t bring myself to get up. Where would he be? I looked at the clock, and it was four-thirty in the morning. I rubbed my eyes, but I couldn’t let myself get tired. Dale had a head start, and there was no tellin’ where he’d be if I waited until later in the mornin’. I bent over, and reached under the couch searching. My hand found the bottle, and I pulled it out. An almost full bottle of Wild Turkey bourbon. I had forgotten that I stashed it there last week, and I was very happy to see it. I unscrewed the cap, and took a long pull from the bottle. It was smooth, and it burned going down. I felt its warmth and began to wonder about darkness. The only dark place I could think of was the woods surrounding the mountain, but Dale wouldn’t be going there. Then it hit me, how could I have not thought of it. As soon as Old Mama said darkness I should’ve known exactly what she was talkin’ about. She was talkin’ about the mine! I couldn’t contain my excitement. I grabbed the bottle of Wild Turkey, my shotgun, and I ran out of the door, but this time taking great care to avoid the rug. I hopped in my black ford, but then I hopped back out. In my haste I had noticed something on the front bumper. I walked around to the front of the truck, and I saw red. There was some sort of sticky, black and red liquid dripping from my bumper to the undercarriage. Maybe it’s a leak of some kind, or I hit one of Old Mama’s coons on the way home. There was no time to waste, so I hopped back in my truck and raced off to the mine.


I pulled up less than a block away from the mine. I had to be careful not to get too close as to avoid the posted security guard. Like Dale, I also knew of a second entrance that would allow me to avoid the guard. I exited my truck, and headed down the side of the road. I brought the shotgun and the Wild Turkey. I was a few feet away when I slipped to the side of the gate wall where they have a side entrance for deliveries. For six years Dale and I had worked here, and they had always forgotten to lock the side door. Now I was sure more than ever that this is what Old Mama was talking about. I checked the side door, and sure enough it was open. I snuck inside and the door closed behind me. I looked around, and there was a light on. The light shouldn’t have been on, so Dale must have been here. I raised my shotgun and headed towards the elevator. I looked around, but all I could see were rusty mine carts here, and pick axes there. He must’ve went down the mine shaft I thought, so I climbed onto the elevator tram and pressed the button marked down. The elevator made a loud noise of metal scraping against metal as it descended into darkness. As we passed each level there were brief flashes of light where lanterns lit up each work site. It was hypnotic, and for a moment I saw in one of the flashes Jimmy’s son laying bloody in the street. His life crushed out of him by Dale’s truck, and Dale speeding off leaving the boy to die. He was a murderer, and he had to pay for his sin; blood will have blood. If Dale knew I was coming for him then he wouldn’t be anywhere other than the bottom. After what seemed like forever the elevator finally reached the bottom of the mine. The elevator came to a slow stop screeching and sparking along the way. There wasn’t any light on the final floor of the mine. I grabbed my lantern, and stepped off the elevator into darkness.


The lantern flickered as I walked deep into the shaft. All that I could see was darkness, and all that I could hear was silence. This had to be what Old Mama was talkin’ about. You can’t get any darker than the bottom level of an old mine. As I continued walking and squinting into the black void I was startled by a quiet noise. I began to shake a bit, so I reached for my bourbon and took a drink. Feeling stronger I started again with my shotgun in one hand, and my lantern in the other. I walked slowly, and on high alert. I was about ten minutes down the shaft before I heard it again, but louder this time. A loud blood curdling noise that sounded almost like someone screaming. I froze standing still and unsure of myself. What was Dale doing down here? Did he have someone? I can’t let him hurt another child! I picked up my pace, and started running down the shaft.


“Dale! Dale! I’m coming for you, Dale!”


I was stumblin’ and trippin’ down the shaft for what must have been half an hour. My legs started to burn after a bit, and I was doing more stumbling than running. I stopped to catch my breath, and sat down. I took the bottle of bourbon from my pocket and took a drink. As I sat there catching my breath, slumped against a wall, I heard it again. The loudest blood curdling scream I had ever heard, like some demon crawling from hell. I sat there frozen holding my bottle. I set the bottle down, and grabbed my shotgun. I didn’t know what it was, but I was gonna’ be ready. I took a deep breath, and then another. Just when I thought whatever had gone I heard the noise once more. Out of the darkness came more than a noise this time. Something flew out of the void. It was winged and fearsome. I thought to myself that this was surely a demon. The demon was black and reddish brown with sharp teeth. It screeched as it swooped down on me. I dove out of the way just in time, but I left my shotgun where I had been sitting. My adrenaline kicked in, and I suddenly had a second wind. Fear gnawed at me, and I became desperate and began pleading with the demon.


“Please! I’m sorry! Can I not be forgiven?”


The demon screeched and flashed its fangs.


“I didn’t mean to; it was an accident. He just ran out in front of me without any warning. I know I shouldn’t have been drinking behind the wheel, but I’ve been drunk since they closed down the mine.”


I lay there sobbing as the demon swooped by letting out his loud unforgiving screams. While I was sobbing I got up and dove over to where I left my shotgun. I cocked it and aimed at the demon and fired.


I woke up, but I had no idea what time it was. After I had fired that shot, I had killed the demon sure enough, but caved in the shaft at the same time. I was sober now, my bourbon bottle lying broken next to me. I looked at the demon, but it was no demon at all, but the largest bat I had ever seen. I had deserved a demon, but all I got was a bat. I deserve hell, and I’m damn close to it where I’m at now. There isn’t much time now. The air is thinning, and I soon won’t be able to breath. The lantern is starting to flicker and run out of oil.


If you’re reading this Jimmy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for killing your son, and I’m sorry for leaving this confession on the back of a whiskey label.