Rickety Red

Johnson's pant legs were soaked, nearly up to his knees. The long grass surrounding the imposing old building was damp and unnaturally thick. "Why do they call it 'Rickety Red' anyway," he asked with a scowl.

"You've got to be kidding me. Johnson. Look at it. It's pretty red. And it's pretty rickety. Is there anything more obvious than that?" Sarah's look of long-suffering communicated her incredulity perfectly, if her response hadn't already.

"Well yeah, but what does that have to do with the story? He was an army veteran, shouldn't the place where he died be something like 'Soldier's Rest' or anything cooler than 'Rickety Red'?"

"Are you saying it's not a good name? Let's hear your version then. I bet it's as awful as your cardio. Speaking of which, hurry up! It's gonna get dark soon and I'd rather explore the barn before it's too dark to see."

"I'm not a creative person, and you know I have asthma." On cue, Johnson took a puff from his inhaler and continued trudging through the tall grass. He elected not to make a comment about Sarah's own heavy breathing. He preferred to keep all his limbs intact, after all.

Johnson and Sarah were on an adventure. After the seniors had terrorized the entire freshman class with the story of Old Paul on their first day of school, Sarah had the incredible idea of braving Rickety Red, recording their exploratory findings and showing the entire school the next day. It was their 'get popular quick' scheme, as Sarah dubbed it.

“Look, the door!” Sarah stopped suddenly and pointed toward the building. Johnson’s gaze followed the direction she pointed, and his eyes landed on what she was indicating. The door was slightly ajar, the chain that was supposed to be locking it was hanging precariously, swinging slightly in the wind. Johnson felt the weight in his stomach increase 10-fold as he realized they would actually be able to enter the building. He had been holding out hope that they would be forced to abandon the silly notion, but this pretty much sealed the deal. After a moment’s hesitation, Sarah began bounding toward the door. They were less than 100 feet away at this point, their 45 minute hike coming to an end.

“Sarah! Sarah, wait for me! Damnit, I swear she does everything in her power to make my life miserable.” Johnson spoke the last of his sentence under his breath, and resigned himself to jogging the last 100 feet, his least favorite activity.

The pair stopped at the door, sharing an uncertain glance. Sarah’s eyes glittered with uncertain excitement, while Johnson’s eyes were shaded in uncertain fear. Sarah indicated to the door, telling Johnson; “After you?” Johnson shook his head vehemently, copying her gesture and returning with, “Ladies first.”

Sarah shook her head, spreading a sly smile and stalked inside. Each step was slow and deliberate, her head swiveling from side to side as her eyes adjusted to the dark and she took in the state of the interior. They found themselves in a remarkably small entryway, the exterior belying the relatively small area. On the far side was another door identical to the one they had entered through. This one did not have a chain intended to lock it, although it was not open at the moment.

The entryway was roughly 7 feet tall, a single light fixture hanging precariously from the ceiling. Sarah pulled the string and with no surprise, the light did not turn on. “Was worth a shot I guess,” She said with a shrug.

Johnson walked around the perimeter of the room, which was largely empty. There were a few spaces on the floor that were slightly less dust-caked, and as he stared at them wondering what may have called those spaces home, he heard Sarah creaking open the next door. “What are you doing?!” he whispered hoarsely across the space.

“Well you didn’t think we were just gonna stand in here, did you? There’s so much more to explore!” Sarah finished pushing the door open and disappeared into the new area. Johnson stared after her for a few seconds, and then took one more glance around the current room. Small shafts of light were pouring in from between the planks making up the walls of the room. Through the next door however, he felt the darkness was oppressive, and complete. He swallowed hard and stepped through the doorway.

As soon as he placed one foot down, Johnson experienced an intense feeling that he could only explain as ‘wrong-doing.’ His body tensed, the hair on the back of his neck stood as straight as they ever had in his life, and his back began to spasm in anticipation of a fight or flight response. A chill ran down his spine and he could swear he heard someone speaking directly into his ear, something indiscernible but clear in meaning; “Get out.”

The oppressive darkness immediately began to bear down on Johnson. “Sarah?” He whispered. No response.

A creaking sound began to reverberate in front of him. It started slowly, almost gentle. As he walked toward the sound, he noticed it began to grow in intensity, as if whatever was hanging there had begun swinging. It grew louder and louder, even when Johnson stopped moving. “Sarah, stop joking around, come on!”

“SILENCE.”

Johnson felt something warm trickle down his leg, and his blood went cold. That had not been Sarah’s voice. In fact, it hadn’t even sounded human. The guttural voice that had just ordered him to silence was the most terrifying thing Johnson had ever heard. He obeyed the command. As he stood in complete silence, he noticed the creaking sound had stopped. The darkness was still complete but his eyes had begun to adjust again to the decreased light in the interior of the barn.

Now, he could make out the general layout of the barn. It was large, with lines of stalls spread down the main hall of the barn. Each stall had full-size walls, and a stall door that came up to roughly waist height. The beams holding up the roof of the building were stained dark, and something dripped down from them with remarkable consistency. Something viscous. He studied the room, eyes wide in anticipation. He willed his legs to let him turn around and run but they refused to obey the electrical impulse from his brain. He felt utterly trapped. He couldn’t even turn around to see the door.

Then, suddenly and inexplicably, he started to walk further into the room. He immediately cried out in surprise as his legs began to move of their own accord. He had absolutely no control over his own trajectory, his entire body now betraying his thoughts. From further in, he could hear crying. He couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like it was coming from one of the stalls on the far side of the room on the left side.

As he walked further into the room, he stole glances inside the stalls. He wished he hadn’t. Bodies were housed in each stall, each in varying states of decay and all misshapen in horrifying ways. Some were burned to a crisp, others had limbs splayed in near-impossible angles, and others still grew pustules and tumors that made them look more monstrous than human. One of the bodies turned to look at him as he walked by, reminding him of the Mona Lisa’s supposed ability to track movement of the viewer. “Runnn…” it croaked in a whisper.

He began to sob, tears falling down both sides of his face. The crying was louder now, a choked and painful cry. He could now tell that it was Sarah’s crying that he heard and it was indeed at the furthest end of the barn. He could feel his chest tightening, the asthma making itself known at the worst possible moment.

His legs continued moving in their incessant path to the end of the barn. The tears flowing down his cheek began to sting as his breath came out in ragged whimpers and he was reduced to sniveling. He managed to slow his steps down as he came close to the last stall. His eyes scanned the ground, expecting to see some horrid version of his best friend on the ground. The world around him went silent, and his eyes continued to scan…

The ground was empty. Relief flooded his senses, and he let out a sigh of exasperation, making to turn around and head for the doorway. As he raised his head, he caught sight of something in the air. Feet. He shut his eyes hard, not wanting to believe what his mind already had inferred. “LOOK.” the voice commanded from immediately behind him.

Johnson, startled, cried out and his eyes flung open. He was immediately met with the sight of his best friend, her face purple and tears staining her cheeks. The creaking sound had returned, soft and quiet once again. She swung from side to side, a noose tight around her neck. The skin around it was broken in some places, but still pulled taut from the weight of her body. Johnson released a cry of anguish, covered his face with his hands and began yelling over and over, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! Please just let me leave!”

The liquid that had been dripping from the support beams now began to pour down around him. Blood. The roof began to sag, and the walls shuddered in anger. Horrible croaking sounds echoed around him as wood began to snap and fall apart. The bodies in the stalls began to scream, beg, cry and yell indiscernible words, some he could tell weren’t even english. He opened his eyes and removed his hands, staring dumbly at Sarah’s limp body.

“Get. Out.” the voice from behind him said again, this time clear as day. He turned around, the compelling feeling gone. He no longer felt scared. Just numb, and intensely curious. He turned, slowly but surely, to face the creature.

An impossibly tall figure stood before him. Humanoid in shape, its limbs impossibly long. The head consisted of tumours all over. Only one eye was unblocked, his visible eye entirely black, with no pupil or sclera, and he was entirely bald. He was garbed in tattered rags that may have once been a soldier’s uniform. Now, it looked like it was melded to his skin. His abdomen was ripped open just like the story said, the cavity empty of all organs. “The sins of man reside here. Conquest, War, Famine, Death. I am none and I am all. Leave this place and never look back. Pure souls do not belong.”

The voice was definitely not human. Johnson stared at the creature, and curiously enough he felt not afraid but… Pity. He could see the depths of pain and despair through the tumor-filled eyes of the creature. He looked on for a few moments, unsure what to do. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. He knew not what he apologized for, and yet he knew exactly what he should say. The creature stared back, one arm slowly reaching out toward Johnson. A single tear rolled down what might have been it’s cheek. Then, it vanished in a wisp of smoke and the barn began to collapse around him.

He closed his eyes, the cacophony of noise from the barn falling apart drowning everything out. A few moments later, he opened his eyes to find himself kneeling back outside the barn which was still standing as if nothing had happened. Sarah exited the front entrance, a look of concern on her face. “Are you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Johnson smiled, and a tear rolled down his cheek. “Yeah. I’m alright. Let’s go home.”