====----JACOB----====
I’ve always had a fascination with the supernatural.
From reading Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark at the tender age of eight (and then subsequently hiding in my parent’s bedroom at night for the rest of the week) to watching Supernatural (and, to my perpetual embarrassment, Twilight) in my late teens and early adulthood, I was constantly fascinated with the world that may or may not have existed. I spent countless hours searching my parent’s backyard woods for whatever my young, imaginative mind could cook up. I even started setting makeshift traps, which my parents wisely stopped. Bear traps and snares are neutral combatants at best.
Still, as time continued and adult life imposed its implacable will upon me, I was forced to give up my excursions and start paying bills. Of course, I still believed in the supernatural, but I had no proof to validate my claims. No way to prove my beliefs. Everything I saw around me spoke to the complete and utter antithesis of my beliefs.
Expect for the Theory.
The Theory wasn’t a wild, random idea passed around to every cryptid hunter or conspiracy believer – it was a counter to the mountains of ‘evidence’ against me and a select few believers. It could, in unflattering terms, be called a ‘conspiracy theory.’ The way it went was that the world governments had encouraged science and technology to flourish, to allow knowledge of the supernatural to wither and die. Why they did it was a mystery, but we had theories. Some believed in power, others in control. My personal theory was more benign;
Protection.
Reading through books on mythology, I saw mountains of dangerous, violent, and just plain sadistic monsters, spirits, and extraplanar beings. Who in their right mind would want creatures like sadistic sirens, insane poltergeists, and territorial wyverns running around? Even better, why would anyone with power and a sense of decency want to put random people or property (specifically their people or property) through danger, death, or destruction? Why not have these things corralled or regulated to make the world safer and more prosperous? At least, it was my idea. For all I knew, it was just a bunch of constantly changing tales and legends that people had made up as warnings, morals, or entertainment. Maybe there weren’t such things as mythology and magic.
Or maybe all the hecklers, haters, and debunkers were dead wrong.
So, why did I still search for the things I was trying to protect myself from? Mostly, it was my childhood curiosity, determination, and adult replacement. I was going to keep going until my work proved me right, or I despaired forever, another vague clue leading to the cracks in the conspiracy.
In retrospect, that was a lot more suicidal than I would have thought at the time.
It was a chilly October day, and I was eating breakfast in my small rentals, equally small kitchen. I was chewing on a piece of toast and scrolling through newsfeeds for anything supernatural-sounding. I’d long ago given up on checking mainstream media for searching and instead checked out fringe and local newsfeeds for whatever I was looking for, trading polish and (assumed) reliability for tears in the curtain and even the barest scraps of the supernatural. I found nothing of real interest. On the news side were mostly local accidents, weather forecasts, and small-town events. On the fringe side tended to be aliens (not useful), cryptids (more useful), and conspiracy theory ‘evidence’ (mixed bag.) I was about to close out and finish eating my toast when an article for a site called “The Hickory Pike Herald” caught my eye.
MULTIPLE DISAPPEARANCES IN PINE HEIGHTHS.
Intrigued, I clicked on the article and began reading.
Stephanie, Watkins: Over the past six months, nine individuals have disappeared in the woods surrounding the West Virginia town of Pine Heights. The rural town has expressed shock and a determination to find these missing individuals. Police Chief Nathan Porter has expressed concern about this. “We are doing everything we can to bring these missing persons back alive,” he stated to a small press conference. “And if we cannot… then we will ensure they at least get a proper burial.”
The rest of the page discussed the missing person’s appearance and last known location, and I started jotting down whatever notes I could make. This is it! I thought. This has to be proof! Then, a thought occurred to me. Whatever could make nine hikers disappear has to be dangerous. I… I need something to protect myself. I then jotted down “get a gun." Multiple if possible.
====--------====
Fast forward to one month later, and I was driving my battered sedan down a rural highway. The forested landscape was tinged by the orange rays of the setting sun. My car was packed with camping supplies, my filming equipment, and sensors, alongside a shiny new double-barrel twelve-gauge and 9mm handgun. My GPS said I was roughly five miles from Pine Heights, and I was hoping to make it to Pine Heights before dark… when my low fuel light went on. “Damnit…” I muttered, just as an old gas station came into view, its lights feebly illuminating a “TEXON GAS.” Breathing a sigh of relief, I pulled into one of the two pumps, climbing out to see the CASH ONLY: PAY INSIDE sign. Why… I groaned inwardly. Great. More time burned before I get to town. Grumbling to myself, I turned around and walked into the convenience store. A bell jangled as I entered, finding two sparsely stocked shelves of snacks, a mostly empty drink cooler, and a cashier counter manned by an aging man in a well-worn uniform. Looking up, I couldn’t see his eyes through his thick sunglasses. Smiling, he said, “Getting gas?” he asked. I nodded and pulled out my wallet. Taking out two twenties, I asked, “How much will this get me? The man looked down and concentrated for a few seconds. Six and a half gallons,” he stated. I winced. Let’s hope I can get more gas on the way home… I thought before handing over the majority of my physical cash. The cashier nodded before putting the bills away and typing a few things on the ancient computer sitting on the counter. “You’re all set,” he stated.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“Thanks,” I stated before the man’s expression grew concerned. “You going to Pine Heights?” he asked. I nodded, and the cashier’s expression grew serious. “Be careful, boy. There’s been something… off with that entire place ever since people started disappearing. Everybody’s… been acting weird. Really weird. Some seem like depressed robots, others like they’re on energy drinks. And those roles change constantly. I don’t know what the hell is up with that town… but I’m glad I don’t go down to Pine Heights often or live there. Just…” he paused for a second. “Just be careful.” I nodded, conflicted and concerned. “I’ll be safe,” I stated before exiting the convenience store and walking over to the pump. Popping open the fuel tank, I stuck the nozzle into the gas tank and started pumping. The fuel ran out after a disappointingly short time, and as I started up the car, the needle was barely two notches above the red part of the gas meter. Sighing, I fired up my beater and pulled out of the station, hoping there would be another gas station in town.
By the time the WELCOME TO PINE HEIGHTS came into view, my needle was dipping into the red once more, and the sun was all but gone below the horizon. Thankfully, the first business I saw on Main Street was a gas station, this one also seemingly a local company. Pulling in, I saw a sign bolted over the slots to put cash or cards in. CARD ONLY. PAY INSIDE, it stated. Groaning, I got out of the car and walked into the larger, more furnished convenience store. There were two employees inside, one manning the register, the other mopping the floor. The cashier, a younger woman with obviously dyed hair and with the last, stubborn remains of acne on her cheeks. She looked over at me, a semi-glazed expression on her face. “Can I help you?” she asked amongst monotonously. I nodded, put off by this. “Uh, yes. I’m here to… get gas for my car.” The cashier then immediately held out a hand. After a second, she needed my card, which I quickly pulled out and handed over. Running it through a bulky reader, she handed it back. “Pump eleven is open; you’ve got enough for eight gallons.” Better than nothing… I thought morosely and then took my card back. The cashier then went back to staring at nothing.
Thoroughly creeped out, I exited the store and went over to my car… which was situated at Pump 13. How did she know? I wondered. I didn’t even tell her which pump I was on… Shaking my head, I unlocked my gas tank, stuck the nozzle in, and let the fuel flow. The gasoline ran out all too soon, and I reluctantly put the nozzle away and climbed into my car. Firing up the engine, I looked back over at the cashier, who still had a thousand-yard stare.
There’s been… something off about that town ever since people started disappearing. Everybody’s… been acting weird. Really weird.
The first cashier’s warning echoed through my mind. What if whatever is making these hikers disappear… is doing something to the people here in town? I shivered. I could be in real danger here… However, at that point, my stomach growled, and I realized I hadn’t had lunch. I had no snacks in the car, I didn’t want to go back into the convenience store, and I was on a clock. I needed to find somewhere to eat and fast. Pulling out of the parking lot, I almost immediately spotted an all-night diner, to my relief. Quickly pulling into a parking spot, I got out and looked at the neon sign reading ROSIES DINER. At least it seems empty… I thought relievedly. Climbing up the stairs, I pushed open the door to reveal a standard ‘retro’ diner, complete with a checkered linoleum floor, jukebox, and red padded swivel seats. There were only two other customers in there, plus a handful of line cooks, all with the same glazed look as the cashier. At the gas station, immediately, I wanted to walk out the door, but I was too hungry to do that. Reluctantly, I sat down at one of the booths and waited for a server.
After a few minutes, a waitress came over with a menu. “I will come back in a few minutes. Let me know what you would like,” she said robotically and then turned away. Shivering, I turned to the menu and started reading through. Eventually, I settled on pancakes and bacon because that seemed like the easiest and fastest thing they could make so I could get out of there. After roughly two or three minutes, the waitress got back. “Have you decided yet?” she asked in the same, spaced-out voice. I nodded, trying to maintain composure. “Yes, I’ll get the pancakes and bacon. With coffee.” She nodded and then turned around and went back to the kitchen. This place is so weird, I thought uncomfortably. I’m definitely taking the long way around to get home. Looking out the window into the edge of town. I watched the moths flutter around a lamp outside. I wonder if the way this place is acting is proof of the Theory… I wondered. I don’t know if that would be good or bad if I found evidence. At that point, the waitress returned with a plate of pancakes, a side of bacon, and a coffeepot. Placing them down, she poured the coffee into one of the waiting mugs and then returned to the kitchen. As she turned the corner, I thought she pulled out a vial of something red, but I didn’t get a good look.
Trying to remain calm, I turned my attention back to my food and began to eat. I would have ranked the food as ‘average’ – not particularly good, but enjoyable. At the very least, the syrup wasn’t the ridiculously sweet fake stuff in a bottle. The bacon was also crispy and minimally greasy, while the coffee was strong and not over-sweetened, which was a plus, too. To be honest, it was a good meal, but the atmosphere ruined it. I ate silently for a few minutes until the waitress returned with a clipboard. “Could I have your card, please?” she asked politely, which threw me off with a drastic change in temperament. Confusedly, I obliged, and she smiled before walking away towards the register. Did she just pop some pills or something? I wondered confusedly. Because that was a drastic change in attitude. After a minute or two with my card. “Have a nice night,” she stated cheerfully. Hesitantly, it took it, sliding it back into my wallet and then getting up. Exiting the diner, I walked back to my car.
Starting up the engine, I pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the street toward the opposite edge of Pine Heights. According to my research, most of the missing persons had disappeared around the local East Pine Campground, so that would be my spot to set up my site and equipment. Looking over at the shotgun and pistol stashed on the driver’s seat, I shivered. Let’s hope I don’t need to use those…
And with that, I drove off into a forest where nine people had disappeared without a trace, lightly armed, and desperately hoping to find whatever had caused those disappearances.