Hermits' Hole Part 1
In keeping with the spirit of this website, I feel that it is appropriate to begin this journey with a short horror story that will be told in three parts. Every Thursday a new section will be posted, with the last section ending the day before Halloween. As you read these sections, try, if you will, to dip into the characters’ personality. Imagine what they are imagining, experience what they are experiencing. Become, in part, part of the story.
Hermits Hole Part 1
It all started on October 10th - a dark and stormy night. A hermit stumbled half- hazardously into his hole as the rain came thundering down. He had done the deed that needed to be done, and the life that he freed had flowed unhindered into the earth. Tomorrow there would be questions and he knew that they would come for him. But that was then and this is now. There was nothing to do but wait and sleep as the voices in his head were fond of telling him to do. He had done his service to the “One Who Saved”, and that was all that could be asked of him. Lying down on a small wooden bench that served as his bed, he pulled a moldy blanket over his shoulders and slept peacefully for the first time in many years.
“So what happened to him?”, asked Jones, as she stretched out her feet towards the fire.
“Well, as the legend goes, the police found the body of a young woman the next day. There were obvious signs of a ritual killing and knowing of this crazed, religious hermit; they decided to seek him out for questioning.”
“And then what?”
“Hold on, I’m getting to it.”
“When they reached his hole, they found the bloody knife used in the ritual, and the stiff body of the hermit. It seems that he had passed away peacefully in the night.”
Standing up and throwing back her long blonde hair, Jones replied, “Randy, honey that’s the lamest campfire story I ever heard….”
“If you would let me finish….”
Clearing my throat I continued, “Every year since, a ritual sacrifice has been found in the exact same place as the first, and the culprit has never been found. Some say that it’s the Hermit’s ghost that comes back once a year to reenact the ritual. Where others say that it is the work of a deranged relative of the hermit who finds purpose in the ritual slaying of young virgins. “
“And let me guess….”, she replied as she slowly walked over to me and pulled me up lightly by the collar of shirt. “I need to have sex with you and lose my virginity so that I don’t get sacrificed by a hermit’s ghost?”
“Hey, you know what… that sounds like a good idea. I’m game if you are.”
“I bet you are…” Jones replied as she hooked her finger into my belt and pulled me closer. “You know if you want me, you’re going to have to do better than a superstitious ghost story.” Letting go, she walked to the wood pile and threw another log on the fire. Sending up plumes of smoke as she did so.
“So what now,” I ask, as she walked back to her seat in front of the fire.
“Now we sit and enjoy the fire for a bit,” she replied as her hand found mine. “After that we’ll see…”
