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Halloween is a coming ... !!

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Decker

Decker

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If you've been a member of The Paracast for the last few years you will recall that I have put "short stories" up in in the DMR forum around the holidays. (And by hollidays I mean Halloween and Christmas.)

For years I have written themed stories for both Halloween and Christmas and often they have been published in various publications. I am a sucker for this time of year ... geeze I love Halloween. My wife Vicki says it is because of the kid that is still in me ... and by heaven ... I think she is right! My novel, Past Sins, began life as a short ... it was titled "Night Shift" ... and as I often did .. I sent it out to friends and family when it was done. Back early in the last decade I had finished Night Shift and one of the people I sent it to was a friend of mine, Diana Botsford. Diana had been a writer on the TV show Star Trek TNG, and after she read it she called me up and said ... "Don, that was damn good and scary ... you really should expand that into a novel!" Well, of course I was flattered and thought about it. It wasn't until one day I was outside trimming some bushes around my house with electric hedge clippers that I had an accident almost severing my little finger on my left hand ... that I was clutching it to my chest trying to stop the blood gushing that the hook for Past Sins came to me! I stared at the blood squirting (honest to God) that it came to me ... "What if vampires were really real ... and the CIA got their hands on one?" Well, Past Sins is the result.

Now, I come from the east coast, back in Pennsylvania. My family on my mom's side lived in what is now Pennsylvania since prior to the American Revolution. They were renowned rifle smiths that emigrated out of Lancaster, Pa. And they served in almost every war that the U.S. has been in from the Revolution to the Gulf War. We were well represented in the American Civil War with 4 or 5 men (uncles of my Grandfather .. his father was too young for that war) and fought in several real bloodbaths. Shiloh, Antietam and of course Gettysburg. The Civil War was always a topic of fascination for me as I only lived 2 or 3 hours from the Gettysburg Battlefield. So, what does that have to do with Halloween?

Several years ago when thinking about my Halloween offering for that year I was thinking about the Civil War and how many men then had a really tough time coming to grips with their experiences after that damned war was over. I could relate remembering my own "coming to grips with Viet Nam" after I got back home. The following story, a Horror short called "Betsy's Return" is a result of that. This was run in the Haunted Path online magazine back in 2010. Haunted Path.jpg

Happy Halloween and I hope you enjoy the story!

Decker

PS By the way, the military units and battles were real.
 
October 06, 1873
Blair County
Central West Pennsylvania

Betsy’s Return
Author- Don Ecker
All rights reserved

The leaden skies were pregnant with fat, swollen rain clouds. I expected them to burst at any moment, and off in the distance I could hear faint rolling thunder claps. I was sitting in the wagon box seat, holding reins on my two nervous horses. We were in the cemetery next to a new open grave that was to hold the body of my daughter.
“Captain?” I looked to my left and there stood my oldest friend and former 1st Sergeant, Pierce Russell.
“Sir, do ya need a hand down?” I absently rubbed the stump where my left leg had been prior to a Confederate shell blowing it off.
“Nah Pierce. I will wait until Harry gets back with the Roman Priest.”
Willis Nugent rode up on his Bay. He climbed off his horse still holding the reins. After I was wounded, Lt. Willis Nugent took over my Company. He was steady and reliable if not dour.
Willis nodded at Pierce and then spoke. “Thomas, we could of used some of this rain in the Wilderness, eh?”
He was referring to that horror that was the battle in the Wilderness. General Grant launched attacks against Lee in a very heavily wooded area, and after a couple days of fighting, terrible and horrible combat, forest fires broke out that threatened to consume all who were there. Both we and the Rebels were forced to drop our guns and grab our shovels.
I looked over at Willis and nodded. “Yes Willis, that would’ve been a real daisy. But, we had no such luck.”
Horace Salley, one of my former privates walked over to the wagon. “Captain, Sir, do you want that we should lower the coffin? Me and Jacob can take it right down.” Jacob Schreck was another one of my men. God bless each and every one of them. We had been the 31st Pennsylvania Infantry, with battles at Gettysburg, the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, among others. That damn war.

“No Horace, not yet. I am waiting for Harry to arrive.”
“Yes Sir Captain.” Horace walked over to Jacob. I looked back at the sky, then pulled my pocket watch out. Opening it I glanced at the dial, not quite 4:00 PM. I hoped he would arrive before sundown. Then I thought of my wife Polly. The Lord took her from me 2 years ago. She caught a fever and was gone in a week. Thank the Lord she was not here to witness this.
I saw a man riding out from the village. I couldn’t tell who it was at first, then recognized the horse. It was Samuel Zimmerman. He had been in my company also, but after the war was called by the Lord and was now a Preacher. Of course he didn’t know what to do about this, so I sent Harry Tomlinson to find me a Roman Priest. I heard tell they had more experience dealing with things like this and I needed their help. “Samuel, thank you for coming out.” He nodded, and climbed down off the horse clutching his Bible. Dressed in black as he was, there was no doubt what his trade was.
“Any word from Corporal Tomlinson yet Captain?” I looked at Samuel and shook my head. Funny how formal he stayed since he became a Reverend. I recalled him as a young Private away from home for the first time. He learned to love that John Barleycorn back then. Time changes one with its passage.
My leg, or perhaps I should say my stump began throbbing again. I rubbed it absently and thought of my daughter Betsy. Pretty, bright and cheerful, she had been Polly and my treasure. She helped me through Polly’s death when we lost her. My God, and now this. Once again despair swept over me. I shuddered and caught myself. I reached into my waistband and felt the Colt revolver I had tucked there. The same pistol I carried through the war, the one that saved me more than once. Touching the pistol’s butt comforted me.
“Captain! Here comes Harry over the hill!” My eyes shot to the east, and sure enough I saw Harry Tomlinson’s horse running full out with Harry hanging on. He reached the wagon and pulled on the reins hard.
“Sorry Captain McCartney but the Priest wasn’t there. I spoke to folks that are in his church but he was called away. I told them that you needed to see him and they promised to tell him when he gets back.”
“Thanks Harry. Nothing more you could do. Okay, let me get down.” I grabbed my crutches and holding on to the side I hopped down. Jacob and Horace walked over to me. I pulled out my pocket watch and looked at the dial. It was almost 4:30 PM.
“Okay boys, lets get the coffin down next to the grave.” Horace and Jacob began to pull it from the back of the wagon when suddenly a sharp kick struck the coffin .. from the inside.
“Lord Jesus!” Jacob Schreck screamed! He had been wrestling the rear of the coffin when he let go, jumping backwards.
Fear suddenly shot through all our minds and hearts. I felt myself flinch, almost unbelieving, with what I witnessed with that thing that had been my daughter.
“Pierce, Willis, get the Springfield rifles!” I spoke to them sharply. “Pierce, fix your bayonet, Willis, you too.” I pulled out my Colt and cocked back the hammer.
Another kick, then another. Then a voice that could have been my Betsy, but my Betsy was dead. “Daddy, is that you? Daddy, let me out! Why have you locked me in this box?” Cold fear grasped my heart, my chest felt as if it was being squeezed by an impossible vice … tears began running down my cheeks. “DADDY ….” She wailed.
I looked to Samuel. “Samuel. No Priest so you are the closest thing to one. What should we do?” He looked back at me with stark fear in his eyes.
“Captain, you won’t like it.”
“I won’t like it? Hell Man, what is there here to like? I didn’t like Gettysburg, I didn’t like dysentery, I HATED killing but I dealt with it like we all did. Speak Damn You!” This last I shouted.
Samuel clutched his Bible to his chest. “Aright Captain. What ever that is, it ain’t your child. It’s evil, its foul and it came straight from Hell! Just like a snake if its gonna bite you, you cut off its head. You gotta cut its head off Captain!” Now he looked me straight in my eyes.
“I told you that you won’t like it.” he said, now Samuel looked down. I looked over at Jacob and Horace.
“Did one of you bring an axe?” Jacob Schreck, a proud man, one hell of a rifle shot and a man that had taken a bayonet wound meant for me, nodded.
“Yes Sir, I brung my axe Captain.” He went over to his horse and pulled out a double bit axe from behind his saddle.
“Captain.” I looked over to Pierce. “Whose that?” I saw a stranger riding up towards us, headed straight for the open grave. He stopped the horse and looked at us.
“Gentlemen, I’m looking for Captain McCartney.” I stepped toward him on my crutches.
“I’m Captain McCartney. Who are you?” I uncocked my pistol and slid it back into my waistband.
“Captain, I’m Sean O’Leary. Some of Father O’Bannion’s flock told me that one of your men was looking for the good Father. They said you had a serious problem that only a Priest could help with.” O’Leary had a thick Irish brogue. I knew the Irish in the war, tough fighters, each and everyone.
“Yes Mr. O’Leary. We were looking for the Father.” Another series of kicks emanated from the coffin. By now, everyone’s nerves were on edge and the flinching was universal. O’Leary looked at the coffin with knowing in his eyes.
“Ah, I see your problem Gentlemen. I’ve had some experience with this type of thing. Was this, eh, a relative?” I nodded at him.
“Yes Mr. O’Leary, this was my daughter. Now, what do you mean you’ve had experience with this type of thing?”
“Captain, may I climb down?” I nodded my assent to him. He climbed down off the horse and stepped over to the grave.
“In Europe Captain, I’ve seen this contagion in Europe. On the continent, in Italy and Germany. Dead returning, the dead with a terrible thirst. Do you know what I mean?”
I thought of what I had caught my Betsy doing, and when we tried to stop it, her tossing men aside as if they were small children. Oh yes, I knew what he meant. Blood smeared all over her face, drinking it as if it were water. I knew what he meant.
“Captain, the reason I am here is because of Father O’Bannion writing me and asking for my help. I believe that what I am searching for is the same thing that did this to your daughter. This … thing Captain, looks like a man but isn’t one. It is the spawn of the Evil One Captain. It came from Hell and now we must stop it. Now before it becomes more powerful, has more eh, disciples like your daughter here. If he creates more, well it might become impossible to stop.” Now an incessant kicking and growling came from the box. Even Willis looked as if he had second thoughts about remaining here.
“Mr. O’Leary, do you know how to stop this creature? How do we kill this?”
O’Leary looked us over and then his eyes settled on Pierce and Willis’s rifles and bayonets. He pulled his saddle bags off his horse and opened them. Pulling out a wooden stake and wooden mallet, he set them on the ground. He reached back into the saddle bags and pulled out a flask and a huge Roman Crucifix.
“Captain, this is how you can stop the creatures. We must open the coffin, and when we do you may rest assured she will try to attack us. Your men must be ready to stop her with their bayonets. They MUST pin her inside. I will pour this on her”, he held up the flask, “this is Holy Water blessed by the Priest. This will stop her, then one of us must drive that wooden stake through her heart. After we do that, in order to make sure it is dead, we must cut off her head. Can you stand to do that Captain? No other way will stop this.”
Profound sorrow swept through my soul, but I knew this man was right. I nodded my consent.

cont.
 
“Then when we complete this, we must locate that which caused this horror. Rest assured that the monster is close at hand Captain, but first things first.”
I looked to Pierce and Willis. They both stood there silent as a rock holding their bayonet tipped rifles. My thoughts flowed back to the war, actually to Gettysburg, our first action. I recalled the terror that flowed through me and them as we witnessed the seemingly endless lines of Rebels marching right at us. It seemed no matter how many artillery pieces blew holes in their lines, or how many musket shots fired at them, that the Reb’s would ever stop. Just like now, this horror would go on forever and ever, and the sound of Betsy’s voice from the grave would never still its plaintive cries.
“Daddy, damn it Daddy, LET ME OUT!” she screamed, now kicking the box like a snare drum beating a tattoo.
“Pierce, Willis, get ready!” They took an en-guard position with their rifles..
“Jacob, pry the lid off. Horace, grab the axe and get ready to stop … IT .. if IT tries to climb out.” I pulled my Colt out, stepped close to the coffin and cocked it. O’Leary held the mallet and stake in his left hand, while he was ready to pour the Holy Water on IT with his right hand.
“Alright Boys, lets do it!” Jacob held a pry bar and dropped to his knee’s and jammed it under the lid. Prying up, suddenly it popped loose and Betsy, or what had once been Betsy tried to explode out of the box! Pierce and Willis both SCREAMED as they plunged their bayonets into what had once been my lovely treasure. I fired the Colt into her, but it had little effect. Horace however chopped into her head with the axe while O’Leary poured the Holy Water on her. When the water touched her she screamed like all the Demon’s from Hell! O’Leary jumped down on the coffin and jamming the stake into her chest, pounded it with the mallet. What had once been Betsy finally lay still in the coffin. I didn’t realize it at first but tears streamed down my face, and sobs broke from the bottom of my soul.
staking-the-female-vampire.jpg-large.jpg


“Now Captain, we must remove her head. I will do it if you can’t.” O’Leary looked at me with compassion in his eyes, and I glared back at him, hating him with every fiber in my being.
“She was my daughter, I will do it.” I dropped the Colt into the dirt and took the axe from Horace. “Stand back!” I ordered.
I looked at her one final time, then one handed, I chopped her head from her body. “Close it up boys, please, just close it up.” I turned back to the wagon, sobbing. O’Leary walked over to me.
“Captain, where was your daughter when it attacked her? Do you know?” I thought about it, then I knew.
“She told me she was going to visit her mothers grave, out here in this cemetery.” O’Leary thought for a moment.
“Tell me, does this grave yard have any crypts, any rich folk that might have built an elaborate vault or something similar?” I nodded my head.
“Yes, there is an underground vault here. The Norman family vault. They were wealthy rail roaders. Mr. Baxter Norman’s grave site is over that small knoll, down by the trees.” O’Leary nodded.
“Quickly Captain, we must move quickly before full night! He must have taken refuge in the vault, if we move now we can stop him!” I quickly thought about this.
“Pierce, take my wagon back to the village and load it with lantern oil and bring a keg or two of gunpowder. Big ones, with some fuse. Here, give me your rifle!” He looked at me questioningly.
“Oil and gunpowder Captain? How much oil?”
As much as you can grab, now go! Don’t spare the horses either!” He jumped up and whipped them back to the village.

cont.
 
“Alright boys, you all get ready in case that bastard is in there. He will want to come out to see his handy work. Lets give him something to think about.” O’Leary took his saddlebags to the crypt entrance. He reached in and pulled out more Holy Water and a big Roman Catholic Cross. He lay the Cross in the entrance of the doorway and then sprinkled Holy Water about and started praying. Suddenly a huge Boom echoed from the tomb. He jumped back.
“Well Boys, I do believe he is in there and I don’t think he is happy!” I checked the Springfield, checked the cap and cocked it, aiming at the interior. Willis did the same, aiming at the doorway. Jacob stood by holding his axe. I handed my Colt to Horace who stood by. No one spoke, but the fear was palpable among all of us.
Minutes passed by and finally I spoke, directing my comments to O’Leary. “When Pierce gets back, I figure on pouring all the oil into the crypt then fusing the gunpowder and tossing it in. What do you think? When the powder goes off, it will collapse the crypt and the oil will burn what ever is in there. Sound good?”
He nodded and then pulled out what looked like small bread wafers. “Yes, let me put these over there to seal the door, it won’t be able to cross with the crucifix and Communion Host sealing the door.” He proceeded to place the wafers around. As he walked back, I saw something move inside the crypt. Both Willis and I fired. Two huge booms crashed into our eardrums, and I saw no more movement.
“It is inside the doorway, but I don’t think we hit it.” I gasped out as I quickly started to reload the rifle. I saw Pierce rushing back to us in the wagon. He pulled up and the horses looked like they were ready to collapse.
“Here Captain, 3 kegs of gunpowder and two casks of lantern oil.” He jumped down and Jacob and Horace rushed over to help.
“Okay Boys, Willis and I will cover you while you pour all the oil inside. Jacob, fuse the powder, a short burn, and tell me when its ready.” I hobbled over to the doorway with the cocked Springfield, Willis beside me. Pierce and Horace wrestled the casks of oil to the door and then Pierce smashed them open with the axe. He dumped the contents into the vault. “Careful Boys, I saw sumpin’ moving in there.”
“Captain McCartney, its ready!” I looked over and nodded at Jacob.
“Okay Jacob, roll the first two kegs into the vault, then get the fused keg ready. Willis, keep your eyes open.” Jacob rolled the first keg in, then the second. We watched, but didn’t see any movement. He then walked the last keg over to the door and I handed the rifle to O’Leary. “Alright, I am gonna strike a match so you boys get ready to high-tail it outta here. You all ready?” I got general nods all the way around.
“Okay Boys, here we go!” I struck the match, it began burning brightly and then I touched it to the fuse. It sputtered then began a steady burn. Willis and Pierce helped me roll it into the vault, then they both grabbed me, catching my by surprise and ran back outta there. About 20 seconds later there was one hell of a bang, flames shooting out, then two more huge booms. The entire damn vault collapsed inwards with flames shooting out through the debris. We watched it burn till the flames went out, then we left the cemetery. On the way out I looked to O’Leary.
“Do you think that ended it? Is it over now Mr. O’Leary?” He looked thoughtful.
“I don’t know Captain. I think so. Hell, I pray so. Pray to your God Captain. Pray that this finished it.”
I looked to the sky. I thought about what I witnessed here today. I began my prayer.


Decker
 
I'm sure on 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' they improved vampire-killing technology. I might be mistaken but was there not some kind of gun that fired wooden stakes? I mean, it's now the 21st century and heart-stakes need to get with the times!
I haven't read the piece yet Don cos my eyes hurt but I'll let you know what I think. I'm no writer but I do enjoy reading noves etc and love horrors and thrillers and spy stuff so I am hoping to enjoy it.
 
Who needs haunted houses when you've got don ecker?.

Having said that I wouldn't be terribly offended if you could come up with something that involves cornfields. They hold a special place in my memory from the days of my youth back east especially this time of year and always intimidated the hell out of me.
 
I've got the mp3 file of the war of the works broadcast on my phone, I play it every year as cbs stopped doing It some time ago. Also here is page from one of my favorite podcasts, radiolab with one of my favorite takes on the wotw broadcast. I very much recommend you listening to it. it covers one of my favorite subjects the spread of beliefs and ideas, however irrational they may be.

War of the Worlds - Radiolab
 
goggsmackay said:
I'm sure on 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' they improved vampire-killing technology. I might be mistaken but was there not some kind of gun that fired wooden stakes? I mean, it's now the 21st century and heart-stakes need to get with the times!
I haven't read the piece yet Don cos my eyes hurt but I'll let you know what I think. I'm no writer but I do enjoy reading noves etc and love horrors and thrillers and spy stuff so I am hoping to enjoy it.
Click to expand...

Goggs, this *short* takes place in the 19th Century so ... modern tech is somewhat limited.
 
annual bump time.

this Tues. 29th American experience is scheduled to broadcast an episode on what else, orson welles & the mercury theater production of war of the worlds & the impact on american audiences. check your local pbs station. also if you didn't come across this thread last year check out don's stories and a post where I posted a link to radiolab that also did a show on the wotw broadcast and subsequent broadcasts in other places with predictable results thanks to our fellow human beings.

And further submissions frm. MR....I MEAN uncle...ECKER WOULD BE VERY MUCH WELCOME
 
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