Truth be told that reality and fantasy are something totally different. What if we threw horror in the picture? Truth is, a good tale has a bit of everything. This story is a about a boy of 17 who finds himself in the most dreadful of decisions and settings. With nothing more than his natural resources and a hunter's knife, Mike will never forget this time in his life.

Mike, still in high school and everything, was on his summer break and looking forward to his senior year of high school. Nonetheless he did enjoy his free time and the simple things in life. The town he lived in was mid-sized, centered around the calm gentle rivers and the massive church, in which Sundays were oh so busy around the towns church.

The sun was at its peak in the day and the heat drug on like usual and Mike could be seen walking out of the local pawn shop where he indeed held a job at. He sat down on the bank of a river, "The West River" this one was known as simply because of its location, size and flow. He took out his hunting knife of which he received back in his childhood. He removed it from the tight fitting sheath and began to sharpen it. As he did so, he hummed a peaceful tune and was soon accompanied by his girlfriend Emily.

Emily was a little shorter than Mike, around 5'8, and had glistening blond hair. She was a year younger than mark but the love between the two was strong. She greeted him with a soft kiss and smiled.

"How are you today?" She spoke taking a seat beside him.

"I'm alright, thinking a little bit I guess."

"Yeah, about what?"

"I think I want to explore a little, I don't know, sounds stupid. But I've never been outside of these walls."

"Your going to take the rivers?"

"I suppose so…"

"well….since this all is coming into picture, do you, want to go out for dinner or something?"

"Definatly!"

She smiled, kissed him again, and walked away.

Mike gave a chuckle and returned to the doors of the shop. He put the knife back into its sheath and went about his work hours.

History revealed that Mike has only but one living parent, his dad. Now his dad was no father figure what so ever. He was indeed one of the many neglecting father's in the town. As a matter of fact history can not be forgiving to Mike. As truth stands, his father with a single fire of his .45 magnum indeed took Mike's mother away.

Sunset long passed the night and Mike was walking back to his house. He first, of course, had to walk Emily home from there outing . As they stood on her front porch kissing, the moon revealed itself in the mists of the night.

"Goodnight" she spoke softly and entered her home.

As Mike made his way back home, he made out a peculiar sound. This was not of an ordinary, nature like tone such as a bird or leaves bustling. Mike could not quite determine what it was. This had him curious now and stopped dead in his tracks, looking left…and then right…behind him….and above. Mike looked back in the direction of which he was coming from, and saw the Emily's house was out of sight. He looked around again…a house…and a shadow….

Mike could make out a human like shadow…or so he thought anyway. He called out towards it.

"Who's there?"

He began to note in his mind that there was not just one, but many…

But what many? Why so late are these people about.

Voices now…

So many voices…

Screeching of a women was heard, and Mike looked in the direction with a face of fear.

His hands and body began to shake, and he began to breath heavier. He crept closer to the shadows. But the voices… He could not interpret the language in wich these people spoke