One Night's Stand
(Another Tale of the Blair Witch)
By J. E. Turner
Authors Note: In the interest of continuity, it's important to note the time in which this story takes place. The Blair Witch mythos is one that is dependant on chronology, or by some theories, the absolute lack thereof. Therefore, please keep in mind this story takes place in the summer of 1996, 2 years after the disappearance of the three student filmmakers, a year after their footage was discovered, but three years before it was converted into a documentary by Haxan Films and released by Artisan Entertainment. In addition, this story is excluding the sequel, "Book Of Shadows", from the mythos, instead choosing to accept that film as a work of fan fiction, and not as fact. This is NOT, however, an admission to the existence of a "Blair Witch". As the creators of the mythos, Dan Myrick and Ed Sanchez, intended, whether or not there is an unholy presence is left entirely to your imagination.
Becca Fiene had a giant stick up her ass, literally. Every time Garrison, her forceful yet loving seventeen-year-old boyfriend, thrust his body into her, it crept just a little further in. Still, when you're five or six pounds away from the apex of sexual release, you tend to overlook the little things.
Courting can be very fairy tale. Chocolates, phone calls at 2 AM, and twelve long stem roses. Sex, by design, though, never is. It's sloppy, and messy, and often sours the air with the scent of rotting wood and seaside communities. Here, surrounded by miles of woods, and blanketed by a sky painted orange, sex had found a way to mimic courting.
The two teenagers appreciated the isolation of these woods, six miles south of Burkettsville, Maryland, more than any other people had before. When you're young, in love, and living with parents it's difficult to find a quiet place to be alone together for any decent period of time. Garrison had a car, of course, but after just one failed, cramped, gear-shifter induced bruised pelvis, Becca forever ruled that out as an option.
They had tried to rent a motel room a few weeks earlier, but the laws of the great state of Maryland prevented it. In desperation, Becca had even allowed Garrison into her house after mom and dad had gone to sleep. It could have happened, too. His face, rough with a weekend of not shaving, was buried deep in her lap, lightly dusted with the foliage of mid-puberty. And while it felt good, the fear of being discovered by her father loomed too heavy, and she had to end it. After all, daddy's little girls DON'T ride dirty teenage boys' faces.
So it came down to lies, a road trip, and this moment. Both had told their parents that a sleepover was to happen, at a house of a friend.
Lies
"Chaperones? Of course! His/Her parents are home!"
"No, no girls/boys!"
"I'll be home by noon, I promise!"
A Road Trip
And so Garrison's 1987 Mazda RX-7 was packed, loaded with everything two fleshy bottles of sexual urge would need for a romantic night under the stars. Their inevitable bliss waited, just 3 hours south on highway 97. They stopped only once, so Becca could pee. Speed limits and cautious driving will always pull the low card when hormones and hard-ons are the dealer. Around 3 in the afternoon, 88 degrees and sunny, puppy love came to the woods outside the former township of Blair.
Garrison unloaded the camping gear from his car. He had managed to smuggle it out of his parents garage unnoticed, making the stealthy raid under the cover of night. Any fear of being caught he might have otherwise had was easily suppressed by the reality of his tumultuous family life. In all seventeen of his years as a viable entity on the earth, his family had gone camping all of one time. After the abrupt way that trip had ended, his mother in hives and his father more intoxicated than a college freshman at a frat party, Garrison made sure to check that his father had returned the assembly instructions into the tent bag. "No tent, no tits", he surmised.
"How far are we planning on going?" Becca inquired.
The overgrowth well exceeded her idea of what "the woods" would look like, and she felt under dressed for a trek. She was wearing denim shorts that ended just above her knees, a babydoll t-shirt with the glittery word "Guess" across her chest. The garment was over-stretched by Becca's "beyond her years" ampleness, and had Garrison taken the shirts' challenge, he wouldn't have to reach hard for the answer.
"Kevin printed me a map. I guess he downloaded it off AOL. I'm guessing an hour or so, give or take. " Garrison answered with authority.
"You can download locations to have sex at from the computer, huh? Kevin's never been here?"
"I've a feeling it'll be a long while before Kevin ever has a reason to."
Both laughed. Kevin, a friend of both, was a late bloomer, and seemed more interested in amputating the virtual body parts of computerized enemies than molesting teenage girls and letting his friends smell the post-poked finger in the locker room. Still, he was a sweet guy, and they cared for him deeply.
Garrison, backpack loaded and on his back, removed Kevin's map.
"Okay, the car should be safe here. To get to Coffin Rock we need to head…" He was cut off.
"To get to where?" Becca chirped.
"Coffin Rock, it's by a creek." Kevin directed.
"Why in the hell would we go to a place called Coffin Rock?" Fear inquired.
"You have to be kidding me. You and your family went mountain biking last summer at Devils Peak". Kevin was amused.
"And?"
"Did Lucifer arise from the depths of hell and eat you up, all yummy like?" Kevin was laughing now.
"I hope this is the only time out here you feel the need to treat me like a child, cause I'd have to make a pedophile out of you." She offered sarcasm.
"I'm sure it's called Coffin Rock because of its unusual build or formation. In fact, I'd go so far as to promise that it's not really a coffin," his mouth attempted to comfort her, while his crotch pulled the strings.
"Well, do us both a favor and refer to it from here on out as Bed Rock." Becca instructed, unaware of her pun.
"Sounds like a plan." He kissed her forehead.
Using the map and a compass he'd borrowed from the school science lab, the orgasms in waiting began the hike to Coffin Rock. The ground was damp from an eternity of morning fogs, and Becca was bothered at the lasting mess it would leave on her sneakers. Not wanting to sound like a nag, she kept it to herself.
Her thoughts quickly fled from her mind, however, as a memory took its place.
"Hey, babe?" She called to Garrison.
"What?"
"Did they ever figure out what happened to those college kids, the ones from the news a couple of years back?" She asked, not out of fear, but of genuine curiousity.
"You mean the ones that disappeared?" he tried to clarify.
"No, the ones that split the atom. Jesus, honey, of course the ones that disappeared". She smirked.
"Damn, I'm in love with Sandra Bernhardt. I don't know. Actually, I heard it was all a hoax. I heard they were trying to grow pot out here and got busted by the FBI."
"That can't be true, that would have been all over the news." Becca didn't sound sure of her doubt.
"No, really. I heard that the FBI wanted to put the pot into circulation, some sort of sting operation, so they locked those kids up, and kept the pot." Garrison felt confident of his sources.
"Come on, doesn't that sound way too X-Files?" Her doubt was becoming concrete.
"Well, you asked. That's what I heard. In fact, I think Kevin told me."
"No doubt some geeks' website was his source."
"Becca, babe, there is a lot of reliable information on that thing, seriously." Garrison didn't have his own computer, but used the school computer lab on occasion.
"Oh, I'm sure. Tell me about the cream that I rub on my titties to make them grow two sizes overnight!" It was her turn to be amused.
"Kitten, those mam's of yours get any bigger, and I could carry you piggy back and wear them as a neckbrace." His words were intended to be a sexy compliment.
"Well, if your dick gets any smaller, I could carry YOU piggy back and use it for a spinal tap". Becca snapped.
"OUCH! Below the belt!"
"Just barely." She laughed, and winked.
They both laughed, and walked. They trekked silently for slightly more than a minute, and Becca spoke.
"You're sure about the FBI thing?"
"This again?"
"It's just, you know that creepy ass show on TV. The one with the dude who always pauses his narrations just to scowl, then speeds up his voice?"
"Unsolved Mysteries?"
"Yeah, that's the one. That special they did on ghosts and stuff. Didn't some people say that ghosts haunt these woods?"
"No." He knew better.
"Are you sure?" She needed something definitive.
"100 percent sure." He was right.
"Well, good then."
"It's a witch, not ghosts."
"Oh, fuck me. That's right. The Blair Witch. Why didn't you just stop at no?"
"Because either way it's a complete load of shit." He was tiring of her line of questions.
"You can't say that without a doubt. There are things you…" He turned, quickly.
"Babe. Stop it. We are here to be together. Something we've both wanted forever. Now listen, I know that being in the middle of nowhere can be creepy, especially if you let your imagination get away with you, but I know you to be so much smarter than that. You're smarter than I am, even. The whole idea of anything evil and supernatural is fucking nuts. It's Santa for grown ups, that's it. It's not real. There is no witch, there is nothing out here. I promise." He addressed her with enough authority to both qualm her concerns, and turn her on.
"Okay. I believe you. Now, talk angry to me again, I felt a tingle." She smiled a sexy grin.
"Dear God, lets get to Coff… err… Bed Rock NOW!"
And they walked. Fast.
Coffin Rock was well known, to both the locals of Burketsvilleand to the entire Wicca community of the eastern states. Many believed that, by performing the proper rituals and incantations at this consecrated ground, you could penetrate the spirit world. As the sin-intended adolescences broke through the growth and arrived at the base of the rock, their thoughts were of penetration as well. Garrison dropped his pack, and grabbed his teenage lovers arm. He tugged tightly, and pulled her into a passionate kiss.
"Tonight, you're going be fucked for the first time, and it'll be so good, it might as well be your last time." He whispered in her ear.
"Oh really, well, tonight, you're gonna have every last drop of life sucked out of you!" she licked his ear lobe.
Foreshadowing.
Garrison let her go, slowly.
"I have got to find a place to mark as my territory." He began walking away from her.
"I'll go see if I can gather some firewood. I want to take a few pictures, too". Becca surveyed the area.
After a few seconds of exploring, her mind soothed her. "This doesn't look anything like a Coffin." That thought, coupled with the arousal Garrisons' kiss had brought out of her, eradicated every last ounce of fear. In fact, she thought, it didn't look like anything more than a rock, with some foliage and vines covering it. A small crevice, in the rear of the rock, was far to small to be a burial site. In a moment of seventeen year old intellect, she pitied those who had let the name of this place prevent them from seeing it.
Becca pulled her camera from her backpack, far lighter than the load her lover had been carrying. She wanted to take a few pictures before he returned, some raw nature shots without his trademarked thumbs up pose he did in every single photo he'd ever been in. After securing a distance shot, she walked toward the small cave in the back of the rock.
Outside the entrance, on a boulder half buried in the earth, she noticed a carving. Kneeling, she read it.
In the belly of dread, all shall account for their sins, if only for coming to this ruined place.
Becca was not afraid.
"Jesus, some people take this folklore thing way to seriously." She muttered, and then took a photo of the inscription. A moment later, from behind her, something grabbed her. She convulsed, turned, and fell on her backside.
"FUCK GARRISON, THAT IS NOT FUNNY!"
Garrison was laughing with great gusto.
"I thought you said you were over all that witch shit"
"Witch, yeah. Some creepy redneck or mental patient, ummmm, NO!" She was still shaken.
"Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we should go." He began manipulating her emotionally, knowing it would lead to her physical manipulation later.
"No, no. I'm fine, I'm just new to camping outside of state parks and without my parents. We don't have to leave." She was still a horny teenager, and wanted to be drilled almost as badly as Garrison wanted to drill her.
"Are you sure? I'm only thinking of you here." Had she been older, she would have seen how thin a lie he was telling by the larger than normal buldge in his pants.
Becca reached out her hand for help back to her feet, and Garrison lifted her.
"Yes, I'm very sure. Just promise you won't try and scare me anymore, okay?" she replied, confirming that he had succeeded.
"Fair enough. I'm sorry, babe," he squeezed her bottom tightly, running his middle finger along its crack, "Now lets get set up."
The tent setup had gone smoother than Garrison feared it would. By his thinking, the easier the manly aspects of this trip went, the sexier that'd he would be to Becca. With all the failed attempts at sexing her up, he had to make sure that this was the weekend they closed the deal. His pride, and payload, could not take another mid-session stoppage.
It was that motivation that justified the bottle of red wine, also stolen from his parents, he pulled from his backpack.
"Oh really," she asked coyly, "What are we supposed to do with that?"
"Drink it. Get out of our heads, and your lips around mine!"
"Then pour it already!"
The sun had begun setting, though it was still in the earliest phase of the procedure. They still had at least an hour of visible light left, and used it to drink, and engage in foreplay. Glass to mouth, hand to breast, tounge to ear. Garrison stopped.
"I'm going to start a fire. Once I get at you, I'm not stopping for anything." He stood up.
"Not even for the big, scary witch?" Becca mocked.
"If that witch tries to get between you and me, I will kick the bitchs' ass!" Both laughed.
And then they stopped laughing. Their heads quickly turned towards the nearby creek.
"Did you hear that? It sounded like a splash." Becca exclaimed.
"Yeah, I did, actually."
"Is someone over there? Go look". Becca commanded.
Garrison wasn't scared, but his gut instinct certainly didn't tell him to go investigate. However, he knew if Becca became frightened, his testicles would spend the night at an all too familiar shade of blue. This had to be prevented. Slowly, he made his way to the creek.
As he came to its bank, he noticed at how shallow it was. Interesting, that something no more than knee deep could produce such a loud splash. The sound of it reminded him of his fat cousin Leo, king of the cannonball at the city pool. Had Leo done the same maneuver in this bed of water, however, he'd have easily broken every bone in his body.
Garrisons' head panned the flowing water. Upstream, 10 feet and closing in, was something floating towards him. Once close enough, he picked it up.
"What was it?" Becca demanded upon his return. He was holding something fairly sizeable. At least two feet long.
"A stick. That's all it was. It fell from a tree and hit the water."
"Are you sure? That splash was loud!" Becca interrogated him.
"Positive. Here it is. The wood is dry on the inside, we can use it as firewood." Garrison held up the strangly formed branch.
"Turn it over." Becca saw something in it.
Garrison flipped the stick formation over.
"It looks like a little man," Becca pointed, "See. Little legs, little arms, and that stick on the top is his head. Kind of cool."
"Well, enjoy the stick man quickly, because once the fire gets going, he's going to be tried for witchcraft, and executed accordingly." Garrison set it down, and began building a fire.
More to come soon!