STRANGE HAPPENINGS
4/3/83
Saturday night was hot, as it is on most nights during the end of June. The stars stood out like a map chart for the gods. The moon stood at the center of this all giving its full watchful glare down on Greensville County, Alabama. Among the trees of the forest walked Jeremiah k. Blanc, drunk stupid from his late night at the Jefferson's pool hall. He wore a blue flannel shirt, unbuttoned, over his muddy blue jean shorts. He stumbled down the abandoned (all except for the occasional visiting city folk) nature trail. The path was almost completely shrouded in the darkness of the luminous trees, except for Jeremiah's handy dandy flashlight. In his other hand was an almost empty bottle of whisky (to Jeremiah's knowledge it was almost half full but due to his clumsy state it had been splashing out of the bottle's neck left and right. In fact most of it was on his pants giving the effect that he had soiled himself. Before the night was over he probably would piss his pants.) Banging against his leg with each step he took. Jeremiah lived in a two story wood cabin about a half a mile from the end of the track. This house had been given to him by his father who had passed away twenty years ago. It was falling apart and was under constant repair. It was the roof this time. A storm had passed through the forest. It tore away a portion of his roof, letting rain in to his house. The rain caused three hundred dollars of damage to his room. For the past month he had been sleeping on the couch downstairs. The trail took a turn and up a steep path. Jeremiah put all his determination in making it up the path. He had broken out into a fine sweat. He rubbed his arm across his brow then belched. When the road went flat again he looked up in the sky and saw a green flashing light. The light changed to blue then yellow then green again. It flashed in a slow pattern that started to gain speed. Soon it became just a blur of colors. Fear started to come into Jeremiah's heart. Just ya imagination. Not a thing to worry about. You had too much to drink that's all. Just go home take a nice long nap and you will be just fine. He thought to himself. He started to walk faster. His steps became clumsy. His shirt was now drenched in sweat. He looked up every now and then to see if the light was still there. It was. No matter how much he looked or how fast he walked the light still was there. In fact it was following him. It was also getting bigger. Jeremiah stopped a moment. Why is it getting bigger? Then with sick recognition he realized something. The light wasn't growing larger. It was getting closer to the ground. Jeremiah broke into an all out run. His whisky splashing around and his pants were coming loose as he ran up the trail. His flashlight's beam bounced all over the trees of the forest... He was panting now and felt on the verge of passing out. He didn't see the rock that was lodged into the path. He stubbed his toe and went head first into the dirt. What was left of his whisky was lost to him as the bottle flew from his finger and onto the ground. It shattered into five dagger-like pieces. As he got to his feet he slipped again. He stuck out his hand to catch himself but it landed on a glass shard. He rolled onto his back grabbing at his hand. Blood came from where the glass stuck out of his palm. He screamed and cursed for about five minutes. Jeremiah finally pulled out the shard and then wrapped his hand in his shirt. He got up and pressed on (whimpering the whole time). About halfway through the woods he fell off a muddy stump. His leg snapped and his head hit the ground. He stopped in a ditch. He pulled himself to the side and started to cry. He couldn't stand. He said every curse he knew. Twice. That's when the noise came. It wasn't one noise. It was millions of noises. It was as if every sound that exists was going off inside his skull. He grasped it in pain. Foam came from his mouth it hurt so badly. He ripped at his hair and pulled out chunks. His hair was falling out. Clumps of oily brown hair fell to the ground. He wanted to scream but couldn't Then his teeth fell out. All of them just fell out. His bowels emptied suddenly. He had pissed his pants this time. His skin started to get tighter and felt like leather. He couldn't breathe. His eye's bulged. His tongue dehydrated and crumbled. His eardrum's shattered. Jeremiah made an attempt to crawl up the ditch but his muscles turned to mush. Blood started to come out of his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. His chest pushed upwards and he let out one un-human scream. Then his inside bloated three times there normal size and exploded. The corpse lay there like some kind of twisted monument hailing to insanity. No one saw or heard from Jeremiah K. Blanc ever again. He was dead. No one saw the lights in the sky above the ditch. And definitely no one saw the large slumped over figure that came and dragged the body off into the night.
NEWS
"Disappearances of locals and strange lights in sky connected?"
"Four mutilated at campsite. Locals blame aliens."
"Speech from chief of police assuring people that lights just a hoax."
1990-"Total missing people in the past month reach 137!''
4/3/83
Saturday night was hot, as it is on most nights during the end of June. The stars stood out like a map chart for the gods. The moon stood at the center of this all giving its full watchful glare down on Greensville County, Alabama. Among the trees of the forest walked Jeremiah k. Blanc, drunk stupid from his late night at the Jefferson's pool hall. He wore a blue flannel shirt, unbuttoned, over his muddy blue jean shorts. He stumbled down the abandoned (all except for the occasional visiting city folk) nature trail. The path was almost completely shrouded in the darkness of the luminous trees, except for Jeremiah's handy dandy flashlight. In his other hand was an almost empty bottle of whisky (to Jeremiah's knowledge it was almost half full but due to his clumsy state it had been splashing out of the bottle's neck left and right. In fact most of it was on his pants giving the effect that he had soiled himself. Before the night was over he probably would piss his pants.) Banging against his leg with each step he took. Jeremiah lived in a two story wood cabin about a half a mile from the end of the track. This house had been given to him by his father who had passed away twenty years ago. It was falling apart and was under constant repair. It was the roof this time. A storm had passed through the forest. It tore away a portion of his roof, letting rain in to his house. The rain caused three hundred dollars of damage to his room. For the past month he had been sleeping on the couch downstairs. The trail took a turn and up a steep path. Jeremiah put all his determination in making it up the path. He had broken out into a fine sweat. He rubbed his arm across his brow then belched. When the road went flat again he looked up in the sky and saw a green flashing light. The light changed to blue then yellow then green again. It flashed in a slow pattern that started to gain speed. Soon it became just a blur of colors. Fear started to come into Jeremiah's heart. Just ya imagination. Not a thing to worry about. You had too much to drink that's all. Just go home take a nice long nap and you will be just fine. He thought to himself. He started to walk faster. His steps became clumsy. His shirt was now drenched in sweat. He looked up every now and then to see if the light was still there. It was. No matter how much he looked or how fast he walked the light still was there. In fact it was following him. It was also getting bigger. Jeremiah stopped a moment. Why is it getting bigger? Then with sick recognition he realized something. The light wasn't growing larger. It was getting closer to the ground. Jeremiah broke into an all out run. His whisky splashing around and his pants were coming loose as he ran up the trail. His flashlight's beam bounced all over the trees of the forest... He was panting now and felt on the verge of passing out. He didn't see the rock that was lodged into the path. He stubbed his toe and went head first into the dirt. What was left of his whisky was lost to him as the bottle flew from his finger and onto the ground. It shattered into five dagger-like pieces. As he got to his feet he slipped again. He stuck out his hand to catch himself but it landed on a glass shard. He rolled onto his back grabbing at his hand. Blood came from where the glass stuck out of his palm. He screamed and cursed for about five minutes. Jeremiah finally pulled out the shard and then wrapped his hand in his shirt. He got up and pressed on (whimpering the whole time). About halfway through the woods he fell off a muddy stump. His leg snapped and his head hit the ground. He stopped in a ditch. He pulled himself to the side and started to cry. He couldn't stand. He said every curse he knew. Twice. That's when the noise came. It wasn't one noise. It was millions of noises. It was as if every sound that exists was going off inside his skull. He grasped it in pain. Foam came from his mouth it hurt so badly. He ripped at his hair and pulled out chunks. His hair was falling out. Clumps of oily brown hair fell to the ground. He wanted to scream but couldn't Then his teeth fell out. All of them just fell out. His bowels emptied suddenly. He had pissed his pants this time. His skin started to get tighter and felt like leather. He couldn't breathe. His eye's bulged. His tongue dehydrated and crumbled. His eardrum's shattered. Jeremiah made an attempt to crawl up the ditch but his muscles turned to mush. Blood started to come out of his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. His chest pushed upwards and he let out one un-human scream. Then his inside bloated three times there normal size and exploded. The corpse lay there like some kind of twisted monument hailing to insanity. No one saw or heard from Jeremiah K. Blanc ever again. He was dead. No one saw the lights in the sky above the ditch. And definitely no one saw the large slumped over figure that came and dragged the body off into the night.
NEWS
"Disappearances of locals and strange lights in sky connected?"
"Four mutilated at campsite. Locals blame aliens."
"Speech from chief of police assuring people that lights just a hoax."
1990-"Total missing people in the past month reach 137!''
