From: Emma Swift's Journal
October 30th, 2014 - later
Now the fog was sealed by the black of night that had fallen unexpectedly. Felt wrong. As I started toward the house that darkness around me came alive. No wind just bushes trembling and trees slowly swaying. I was walking in mud, I mean it really wasn’t mud but each step carried such an effort causing me to feel like the effort was just to great to get into the house. I thought I should just stay outside; where the darkness could caress me. Boy this was a downer. I thought, what’s the use. I would drive back into town and forget this place. If the dark wanted me to forget, hell I’d just give up. Go home. I couldn’t though. I’d sold my house and this place, this land was my home. I strained and walked toward the back door.
Then I stopped. Looking up the ancient drive there were memories of a young child running up and down laughing and surprisingly happy. Me? My memories. Nothing moved. Silent now the ducks had either moved on or the Darkness had swallowed them. Oh yes. Darkness and secrets never to be spoken. Maybe dark secrets that cut like sharp thin paper across your finger tips. Over and over the paper sliced. There was nothing stopping the feeling. I felt that now and instinctually looked at my hands and was shocked. Blood was oozing from several of my finger tips.
Wow. Then my head started pounding, driving thought from my mind making room for another image to appeared. My mind? I was slipping over the edge here. Pain was wiping it all away. It was then, just at the moment when I felt thinking was impossible that I saw him. What my grandfather use to called the Hoodoo King. Now that was impossible. It was a folk tale used to spook me on Halloween.
But there he stood; dark as midnight, lighting around his head arcing out fear toward any onlooker. Not a real person. A dream person. From my childhood? I fell to my knees and held my head in my hands. The wind came up. Blowing with the fierceness of hell, while the lightning and thunder crushed my soul. I could even smell ozone and my ears rang with the sound.
The Hoodoo King. The Master of the Engineers. He claimed to drive the trains to glory. I knew better. He was the darkness of Mercy Lake. A killer of souls. A killer of children. The killer of the underground. He had to be dead and gone, that's if he ever really lived; but there he stood. With no choice left; I approached him; then screamed.
When I stopped there was silence. I mean too much fucking silence. No more real than what just came before. Wind gone. Lightning too. No more infernal thunder exploding against the far off hills. The air damp with coming rain. Man. I kicked at the dirt at my feet. Well, here I was. What the hell have I just stepped into? There was nothing more I could do but to stand looking at Norwood House with the smell of rotting leaves permeating the air. Fog and angry Mallards with a hallucinogenic Hoodoo King psychopath; or was I the hallucinogenic one? Really. This was just shit, and to think, now I'm home.