Samhaim Eve



Dark blue eyes opened, as the scent of burning reached his nostrals. He could hear the flames pop, and feel the beginnings of the heat that began to warm his flesh. He tried to move, and found himself held tightly within some structure, made of something like straw. He could feel its rough texture against his cheek. It was dark and he could not see anything, except a small amount of flickering light that came through the weave. How did he get here? Where was he? Did he go out and get drunk, and not remember, and someone was playing some mean trick on him? He didn't know. He tried to push out, and the structure gave a little, but held him for the flames.

"This is not funny! Let me out of here! " The only response to his demand was a cackling laugh, one that made chill bumps rise,and the hair on the back of his neck come to attention.



"Let me out! Listen you old witch, let me out of here! You don't know who you are messing with." His anger began to rise, he could feel it begin to boil inside his veins.



""It's you who don't know who you are dealing with. We do not fear your guns. You are no match for us. You are a worthy sacrifice. Once, you would have been invited to join us. But no longer. "



Johnny was determined to gain his release. He shoved at the sides and the front. He could hear the flames crackle loudly, and feel the fire begin to eat at the thing that inclosed him. He did not know the story about the wickerman. He heard the chanting outside , he could see the red,blue and yellow and orange flames eating his grass coffin. He felt a scream bubble up inside him, as the flames ate away the wicker and began to touch the man inside. He felt the flames, touch his flesh, and melt it, like wax. He could see now, the druids outside, who danced and sang, and watched him. His screamed ichoed in the night, as the moon shone down with a smile on the lips, and a lone wolf howled.

Johnnys' scream was heard by his brother, who ran towards the sound. Johnny could feel the skin peeling away from his bones, and he could not see anymore. The pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced before. It burned away all thought, with the nerve endings. Where was death? He felt himself falling, and hoped death would catch him, and end this suffering.



He hit hard, and opened his eyes, and he could see again, and he looked into the concerned face of his older brother. His brother reached out, and touched Johnnys' sweat drenched face.

"Johnny, you alright?" Johnny took a deep breath and glanced around before turning back to the man beside him. He nodded simply, and tried to get up, and on to his feet. Scott helped him up, and he stood on shaky legs, and felt relief that he found himself alive, and in his room. It had been a dream only. A nightmare.



The next morning Johnny came into the dining room. A little more quiet than usual. Not just verbally, but physically. He took his seat, and reached for a bisquit, and took a bite. His eyes met Scotts' over the table, who nodded at him. Murdock, sat cutting into the steak in front of him. The small trinkle of blood that flowed from the wound caused by Murdock, ran into his eggs. Murdock stopped the fork on the way to his mouth, to ask a question of his youngest.



"Johnny, are you alright? Do you think you could break those four horses we got yesterday, and get the hay put up before lunch time? " Johnny just looked at his father, and shrugged. The old man, was always doing that. Expecting too much and never giving an inch. But as always Johnny would try.



" I could help Johnny out today. Then he could help me out this afternoon, with the lineshack."



" I think Johnny can handle it. Besides I was thinking you and I could go into town, need to pick up some things from the mercentile. Stop for a beer, if you want." Scott, glanced over at his brother, and shared a look. Johnny picked up his fork and began to eat. No body invited him for a beer.



The horse moved about the corral, it's sides heaving as it jumped up and came down hard, jarring his riders teeth. It was like coming down on rock with the bottom of his pants. Up and down he went, he held on, and moved with the horses movements. The horse ran towards the fence, and stopped just as it's chest touched. Johnny almost unseated, but sat back, and held on. The horse turned back and its blood shot eyes, met blue ones with anger, and defiance. He turned further, and opened his mouth, his teeth coming at his dark-haired riders leg. Johnny just got his leg out of the way in time. The horse then whinnied, as though laughing. He jumped up and kicked out, and turned and decided to fall down. Johnny jumped and landed on his feet. He looked at the horse, and decided he would take a break.

He got on Barranca, and decided to go on a little ride down to the stream. Just to cool off a little, and have a little peace. His bottom was a little sore, even with Barrancas smooth ride. He came upon an area he didn't often go to. There was a legion about it. Some said they had seen a big hairy thing, bigger than a man. Walked on two feet. Who was about as fragrant as a polecat,only ten times stronger. Scott claimed he had seen it. But then he had a bottle of tequila in his stomach,along with the juicy fat worm. Well if it existed it was safe from him, unless it wore a gun, and came looking for him.



He looked down at the water, the reflection blinded him for a moment. Made his eyes water. He thought about the stream that was more a river, and deep in some areas. He rode Barranca up to the edge. The horse put his head down and drank. Johnny dismounted and sat down and took off his socks and boots.He threw his hat down and unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling it off. The water called to him, he could almost feel it on his hot skin. Oh well. He peeled off his pants as well. He wore no underwear. He stood there as God made him. In all his masculine glory. He moved into the water. The water though refreshing, was slightly warm. He wadded out to a deeper part.



On the way home, feeling better. He whistled a tune. He was riding on a old seldom used road. One that had weeds gr owing in places as tall as Barrancas chest in places. He rode along, at peace with himself.



Barranca suddenly stopped, and refused to move any further. Johnny nudged him. A young woman stepped out of the shade of the large tree on the left. She looked up at him, and he wondered about what she was doing on this old road, without a horse, and alone. She was a pretty little thing.



"Miss, can I help you? Are you lost?" A slight smile touched her lips.



"No, I live over that way, she pointed over her shoulder towards the east."



"Then we are neighbors." Johnny got down off his horse, and moved over to her. His bright smile, was answered by hers. "I am Johnny Lancer, from the Lancer spread."



"Pleasure to meet you Mister Lancer. I am Amy Jenkins."



"Call me Johnny, if I can ever do anything to help you. Are you going to the dance in town tomorrow night?"



"I didn't know there was one."



"Then I gather you don't have a date? Would you do me the honor of going with me?"



"I would like that, Johnny. Can I met you here tomorrow night?"



"Well I guess so, but I could come pick you up. Your father strict?"

"It's just best I meet you here. Till tomorrow Johnny, goodbye." She turned and walked away, as Johnny remounted and rode towards home. He had a pretty date for the dance tomorrow. Someone, no one else knew.



Scott stood in front of his mirror, brushing his hair. Trying to get some of the dust out of it. He looked at the costume laying across a chair. Jennie would like that one. He couldn't wait to see hers. He walked over to the dresser, and picked up the locket, with his mothers picture in it. His long supple fingers caressed it for a few moments. He wished he could have known her. Not just his grandfathers memories of her. What would it had been like, had he grown up with a mother? To have felt her arms around him, hearing her soft voice? To feel a mothers love...



He did not see the swirling mist that had come up from the floor. Swirling about as though alive. That it moved about as though searching for something or someone. He became aware as some of it, obscured his view of the mirror. It was then he looked around, and saw it. He was amazed, fog? Here, in his room? That didn't make sense at all to him. It began to grow thicker, and danced around his legs. He felt it touch his skin, it's clammy touch. He heard a moan, and a reddish light coming from over by the window, from the floor. It swirled, and boiled red. He moved over and glanced down. His gasp sounded loud in his ears. His eyes did not believe what he saw.



Hands reached out, hands that were no more than claws, little skin clung to the bones. Long blackened fingernails scratched at the air. The moans were louder, moans of agony, and dispair. He saw faces, skin pulled back from teeth, mouth blackened, forked tongue peaking out. Eyes that looked back at him, where red, and he saw the oosing sores on the faces. "Help us........" The voices hissed at him. "Water...." He backed up from the pit, his mind refusing to accept what he had seen. It could not be. He smelled brimstone, and his eyes again looked, but from a distance. A head and shoulders came up over the side. Bright red color. It was shaped like a man. Except for the horns on the head, and the pointed ears. The pointed teeth that snarled at him. They eyes, they caught his, beckoned him. His skin crawled, and he felt such evil touch him. It was like millions of insects crawled on his skin. He felt his heart racing, and his muscles tighten. There were holes in the skin, and bugs crawled out. His skin bubbled and smoke came from it. It looked at Scott.



"Scott Lancer, would you like to join us? I have plenty of room in hell." Scott turned and rushed from the room, racing down the hall, and practically falling down the stairs. He rushed into the living room, wide eyed, and gasping. His father looked up at him.

"What's the matter son?"



"It's.... there."



"Who? Calm down."



"The devil!!!" Murdock looked up at him, shook his head, and got to his feet.



"This isn't funny, Scott. Tomorrows halloween."

"I am not lying Murdock. I just saw...." His voice trailed off. He turned and went to the front door. He went in search of the one person who would believe him. Murdock headed for the stairs, and his sons bedroom. He would check, and he would have his say later.



Ten minutes later, the brothers' came back in, for lunch. They were talking, and Scott still seemed reluctant to return to the house. "I don't know, Scott. Perhaps this house is built over some Indian sacred grounds or something. Who knows. I can't imagine, the devil coming after you. Me, I can figure it. But not you. Want me to check it for you?" Scott shook his head and put his hand on his brothers' shoulder.



"No, probably gone now. Besides little brother, you aren't that bad. Besides the old bugger man, can't have you, with me too. I tell you, I don't plan on ever meeting him again." Johnny smiled his bright smile.



"Okay, brother. But I really don't like the holiday. I always feel a little uneasy. "



"I used to like it, the parties and all. Now I am not so sure. Let's go have lunch. Then we can go out into the sunshine and work." The two walked into the kitchen where Teresa had set up the small table with sandwiches, and coffee, and slices of pie. Smiling the two men, sat down to eat.