Black Shuck Den

There were three certainties in life; we are all going to be taxed, we are all going to die, and there are things in life that we know nothing about. One year ago, I learned a new certainty that is known yet not mentioned publicly, but it should. After you hear my story, maybe you will make it so.

I was on vacation, which didn't start off promising. Months upon months of pushing myself and my vehicle to exhaustion just to make ends meet finally paid off, but the mind tends to forget important things when so much of the focus is on the job and the rules of the road. All of this could have been worth it had I someone to go home to, but my vacation time was the only thing that seemed to keep me going; I didn't even have a pet. I probably never will.

The day would finally come where I could take my personal road trip, one that would help clear my mind. Instead, it would give me more than I wanted to think about. I wasn't going too far at the time, mind you, just through one state and into the next. For reasons of ensuring safety so that no thrill-seekers reading my story would follow into what could be their final trip, I will forgo mentioning which states I was traveling. Believe me this; I wish I could forget where I ended up.

A graveyard.

Don't get the wrong idea, George Romero. It's not that kind of story. It's worse.

On a stretch of road between two lanes of trees, and under a shocking bright Moon that checked upon my progress before disappearing behind the clouds, my car finally decided to tap out on account of a battery that had remained faithful when I was spending my own energy. The car slowed down, the lights went off, and so did I. "Oh, come on, damn it!" I cried out. I will admit, there were other profanities thrown into my mini-temper-tantrum, but can you blame me? This was planned for my days off, and federally recognized if I may add, but my only means of transportation decided to head off for a big rest before I could. Luckily, I managed to steer the car to the side of the road before the wheel finally seized up and left me as the only thing moving out here.

A lonely road, devoid of streetlights. A lonely car, denied of any charge. A lonely man, filled only with frustration.

My temper now tempered, the next step through a clearer mind was going through what I had to utilize for my current predicament. Amongst all that I had packed, I thankfully remembered a map, a flashlight, road flares, and my cell phone. I also had a back-up cell phone, which was just my Nokia from my younger days. What can I say? I'm a bit nostalgic and the Nokia might outlive me. Anyways, after opening the map and checking with the flashlight, I finally figured out where I was at. The notion that I was possibly near a cemetery at night was not one to sit well even with me, but I was not going to let any paranoia or possible superstition shake my hands too much to operate my phone and call for help. Luckily, I had a clear signal, which must mean that civilization wasn't that far away. I explained my predicament, to which I would get a bit of good news; an officer and someone with a tow truck would come to pick me up. It would cost me a pretty penny, but it was better than the alternative; pushing the vehicle down who knew how many miles in the dark.

I was asked if I had any flares, which I confirmed. I was instructed to lay down a few so that the officer could find me. Exiting my vehicle, I lit up the first flare and walked about nine paces behind my vehicle, laying the burning object down. I turned, gathering up my next flare to lay in between the lanes when I heard a soft thumping noise. It sounded almost like something heavy was rolling upon the grassy ground to my right, where a supposed cemetery was located as outlined upon my map. As I looked in the direction of the noise, all I could make out were the outlines of the trees that stood like a line of guards, with not one toe out of placement. I also thought that there was a gust of wind, but I didn't feel anything; I did hear air, almost like...exhalation.

I dismissed this and I went to the front of my car, measuring my next line of paces for the second flare. I notified the operator on the line that this was my intention, having fulfilled my first act, but something was wrong. There was a faint distortion from her end, or maybe from mine. She confirmed my act, but then started asking, "Sir...can you...me? Repeat...last...at the time...sir?" Perhaps the service wasn't as good as I thought it was. I then walked five paces and placed my next flare. Again, that sound of something moving upon the ground was heard, but it was now too distinct to be rolling. These were thuds, ones made by feet contacting the floor. What's more, they weren't alone. I looked towards the treeline, the sounds moving in front of me yet staying behind the line of the giant sentinels. The operator's voice cut through every now and then, but the signal was starting to weaken. As if the absence of natural light wasn't bad enough, I started feeling a chill roll from my right.

"Hello?" I called out. The operator probably thought I was talking to her and tried to answer, but her voice was breaking up even worse than before. I was still holding my third flare, which was supposed to be set in the middle of the lanes, but I gripped it tightly as I continued surveying the wooded area bordering the cemetery. My feet didn't turn to the lanes but proceeded to slowly scootch in the direction of the grass and the thumps. As I got closer, the air started to feel like freezing, like I had just entered a refrigerator. There was another huff of hair from whatever had been following me. I raised my flare up. "I'm warning you!" I called out. "I have a flare, and I will use it!" When I said that, a new sound erupted from the darkness; this one was authentically rumbling, but one that was clearly made within the throat. A low growl had just answered my challenge.

I kicked the flare on.

They moved back.

I'm no canine expert, but I would recognize a wolf, a dog, or even a fox like everyone else. What stood before me in the searing red glow held the shapes of canines, but I knew deep down that they were not. They were as big as wolves, but their hair was not as thick nor as smooth; it clung upon their bodies like forests of burnt trees, both dark and foreboding as they barely reflected the light of the flare. Their fangs didn't point downwards like those of your average dog, but instead curved inwards similar to the tusks of saber-tooth tigers. Black pyramids upon their faces pointed in my direction with black holes for nostrils opening and closing rapidly, the gusts of air finally revealed with a blast of cold mist. What used to be low growling now surrendered to harsh snarling, the tones being nothing like those of wolves or even attack dogs. Large claws circled and stabbed at the ground, with a few on one front limb occasionally swiping in my direction and trying to knock away the blaring blaze. But it would be the eyes that I won't forget; every hound out here, no matter the species, had an eye with a black pupil that either looked upon a human being with love and sympathy or with the intent of staring at your soul and measuring your worth as either predator or prey. These eyes, however, did not have pupils. The mass of soulless orbs reflecting the flare's now-ominous light were devoid of anything except pure malice and anger.

And the smell! I moved back.

A new light shown, not from what was in my hands, but from what was incoming from behind. A blinding sheen of white nearly blinded me. Those monsters moved away from the new light, but I did not see where they had gone as my eyes instinctively closed. The brightness moved closer and closer, a shrill screech broke through the air, red and blue flashes started...flashing...

The patrol car dimmed the headlights but kept the flashers on as the officer killed the siren. He stepped out and decided to keep me blind by shining his torch into my face. "Hey, sir, you okay?" The beam moved from my face to my car, as if the officer was just noticing the flares on the road. "Hang on, I'll see if a tow truck is on the way!" He ducked back into his vehicle, allowing me a minute to look at the area where those things were standing. I held the flare up again, but whatever those creatures were, they had left. I prayed that the tow truck would come soon.

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Amongst my mistakes, the one thing that I should never have done was return to that cemetery. I went during the day, as my car would be ready come evening, and I got the location from the mechanic. Funny enough, it turned out that this was not the first vehicle to have broken down near that place, although it was the first from out of state. He even offered me a ride there, but I decided to walk; I would take in the sights of this new place during my "road trip", at least.

I arrived at the site. What hit me next wasn't anything foreboding, just a sense of emptiness. That much worried me, as I anticipated seeing those entities from last night, whether at a distance or rushing me. When neither happened, I looked upon the gravestones, noticing that the grass was more greener than I had anticipated, and even more kempt than your average lawn. Someone definitely kept a vigilant work ethic around here. I paced myself towards the chapel with one eye towards the trees lining the road. Approaching the closed doors, I decided to knock out of habit. As I waited for an answer, a slight gust of wind blew from my back. I quickly looked behind me, but saw nothing except the plants swaying slightly. I knocked again, and an elder gentleman opened the doors.

"M'sorry, sir, but we're not open today. If ye would like t' make an appoin'ment, I can squeeze ye in fer next week."

I shook my head. "No, it's fine, sir. I am new here, and I would like to ask a few questions." He looked at me quizzically, but nodded. "You see, sir, my vehicle broke down just outside of this cemetery. I was told that it isn't the first time a car unwillingly stopped outside of your graveyard."

The caretaker shook his head. "No, yer right. Happens many times, usually a' night. It don't happen t' every vehicle, though. It's almost like each one was, uh... handpicked, y'know?"

I looked over my shoulder again and continued: "Another thing happened last night. I saw a pack of what I thought were dogs-"

At this he suddenly held his hand up close to my mouth. "SHHHHH!" he demanded. I remained silent as he lowered his limb and looked around, behind me and even behind himself. "Lissen, son, an' lissen good! This graveyard, as ye so put it, isn' yer standard restin' place. Here, the worst o' the worst were brought an' buried. 'Tis bad enough 'ere, knowin' all that they gone an' done, but this place..." and here he paused as if trying to find the right word, but decided to simply put it in one general term, "...this place is evil. The person who found this place was evil."

Looking me dead in the eye, he added, "And they... they followed them to the grave. This is their den now."

He backed away slowly, wishing me well and to be careful before closing the door. I would have thought him as completely cookie if I had not experienced what I went through, but one last grain of curiosity remained within me that somehow overrode any common sense and potential fear. I stepped away from the chapel and headed over to a few of the tombstones facing the entrance. They appeared no different from other cemeteries that I had seen and even walked through, although they had appeared to darken with age. I checked for names, but there were none. I found it strange until I remembered something that my own parents taught me; many an evil individual, including some of the vilest in history, were usually buried in unmarked graves, or in graves that didn't display their names. These were just standing stones, decorated on the outside but having nothing much written upon them except dates of birth to death, all except one. This particular marker, almost as black as obsidian, held a simple quote:

"When I die, all that I will have for company are my victims in Hell and the Black Shucks on my grounds."

As I repeated those words, another gust of wind came but not empty, as it carried that awful smell like rotting eggs. An all-too familiar growl was heard behind me. I didn't think twice, but I bolted straight for the entrance and towards the town, praying that my car was ready. My final certainty was realized; no one should ever come to this place, alive or otherwise.