Abysmal Tale Number Six: Pit Walker

In this day and age, the imagination has been murdered by technology and the old stories have been left in the sands of time to be forgotten by everybody.

This is one I like to call, Pit Walker


This is a Frozen wasteland by any standard of the meaning of the words, save for one tiny little difference. People have challenged nature here too. Arrogance is a sin and it can be punished by another sin, we people call it wrath. Nature calls it just getting even with us. I am no native of this place. I prefer sunny climates and warm temperatures. It is my calling that brings me to this hell, and I hate it with a passion already after my first day arriving here.

My name is Jim. I am a Detective for the FBI. I get stuck with all the jobs nobody else wants to do. I am perfect for it this one. I have no real family left and dangerous missions and assignments do not affect my choice making abilities. I pay close attention to details and the obvious almost never escapes me. I am good at my job and an even better shot. I should tell you of the case as it stands.

The town is called Ark. I have no idea how it got the name and I do not care, but the three hundred and six people here have come under an affliction of a terrible nature. Three weeks ago a father of two children was found in the woods, most of his vital organs removed in a brutal fashion. A week later, close to the same day the Local mail carrier was found in the middle of main street, again dead and organs removed. Of course there had been no witnesses either time. The local police department went through the motions of investigation, but found nothing. Not even a single hair of evidence. This is not to say that the APD is inept at their job, no they were simply outclassed. This is when they called for help and what they got, was me.

The ground is covered with snow, and I noticed there were no footprints anywhere. This was near impossible. I tried to move about town leaving no footprints of my own, I could not accomplish this. When I do not understand something, it frustrates me to no end and I must figure it out, this one was difficult though. The people here to me just look alive, my instincts tell me they are dead inside though. Their eyes as I pass them on the street lack that shine that gives off the impression of life. This whole place seems dead.

I held a town meeting the first night I got here. My team and I went over the ground rules. Curfew after dark, the buddy system and to report any odd behavior. We had three hundred and six people. The suspect list was not hard to compile. We had discovered that the people were more than willing to comply with our rules. It was odd however that they needed to be told this stuff. You would have thought that common sense would have broken through here easily. It did not.

We examined the bodies of the victims. It was not a pretty sight by any means, even for me. The medical member of the team was an expert at this forensic stuff, me I dealt with the living more than the dead even though I did not feel like it this time around. The words she spoke were chilling; it was not the cold of the air. They were torn open with claws and the odd shaped wounds were bite marks, human teeth made these marks. We were looking for a cannibal of some sort. It was time to watch the local eating habits of the people. It did not explain how the crime was committed with no signs of another person anywhere in the scene of the attack.

It was time to do my part, first thing was first. I checked out the decayed crime scene. I am no tracker or wilderness expert. But I did notice some things that were not told to me before. First off, the branches of the trees were broken, not just the low ones. But the high ones as well. That would explain nothing though because none of them were strong enough to support a person, let alone the stress of a vicious attack. This once again made no sense.

I also noticed the lack of blood, sure it might have been cleaned up but nobody is perfect and an attack as violent as this one, there would be no cleaning up from this either. Blood left a smell. Perhaps the cold stopped it this time. It was wintertime and the sun goes down early this time of year. The wind was terrible tonight and further explorations could not be done, interviews could be conducted however. People who had not seen, but heard the attack on the mail carrier came forward. What they had to say was disturbing.

One of them spoke of a scream that sounded like the wind crying. They heard the man scream. Despite the attacker’s voice and speech patterns, all of the ones who came forward agreed on the same thing. The scream of the man rose up into the night sky and faded out entirely. Once again, this made no sense what so ever. I was beginning to think I was chasing a ghost, well that would make my job easier I suppose.

I spent four more days investigating leads and dead ends. Threatening to go insane due to this maddening mystery that made no sense to me what so ever. Perhaps who ever had did these crimes had opted to leave town, there had been no attacks since I showed up, but there were still three hundred and six people in town. Whoever it was did not intend on making it easy on me.

I finally broke down and took some time for me and went to the local library. I needed to get some inspiration. I am a history buff so I decided to check into the history of this town and it was like it was meant just for me at that very moment. Apparently this had happened before in this very town. Four murders, brutal and sadistic had taken place here before at least fifty years ago, but they remained unsolved to this day. The town of Ark was in the shadow of what looked to be the edge of a great valley, or sometimes I called it the pit.

I read further into the history of this wretched wasteland. Apparently, and obviously it would seem the settlers were well aware of the danger this place had. The locals had this place and called it forbidden. The lair of the, well you know the rest of the story by now so I don’t need to put it here.

Legends were not really my thing. I did not believe in the monsters of the world, well I didn't anyways. Upon leaving the building the moonlight was just making the winter covered surroundings even colder looking. Then I saw it in the middle of the street. This beast or something standing there with a child in its massive hands. She was only nine years old at the most, but I was too late, she was already dead and in the process of being devoured, I had interrupted the feast of human flesh.

I pulled my weapon and fired, I swear I hit it. I know I did, three times! The monster screamed at me in rage. Every move it made said hunger and its thin body complimented its movement. Most profound however, it was not touching the ground in any way at all. The beast seemed to be startled by my attack and more so it seemed to desire secrecy more than anything else. The monster took off in a gust of bone chilling wind vanished into the night.

This is my story. I am sticking to it as well. Nobody believed me and that was the last case I ever did. The doctors said I had snapped and killed the nine year old girl with my gun to create evidence for a killer I could frame some innocent person in that town with the crime. The murders before I was there still remain unsolved, and nobody believes me.

Sometimes the legends of the past are truly the most powerful.