The Disappearances

Rocky Peaks had never been the spot for tourist attraction. A small town nestled between towering mountains and weather of incessant rain, had surprisingly nothing to offer people who weren’t born there. My friends and I would make jokes about it. Laughing endlessly about this being the town not even a Netflix Documentary could be made in.

Nothing was strange. Nothing was even remotely interesting. And then…the disappearances began to happen. The first victim was a girl, five-years-old, little as a button and one of the first runner ups in the Rocky Peaks Little Pageant Show. Personally, I didn’t find it surprising. Of course it was sad and the circumstances were particularly strange, but kids disappeared all of the time. She would be found with a simple manhunt and things would be fine.

But then three bikers disappeared in front of the Curtsey bar. All anyone heard were violent screams and the cameras stationed outside became grainy. Completely unrecognizable. All that could be heard before was an echo.

Half of the town couldn’t get how three, brawny motorcycle men, just all disappeared. They also couldn’t get how the surveillance could get so distorted like that. But as the following days passed, more and more people disappeared. In just one month, our numbers had dwindled down to a ninety-two, and they just kept decreasing. Paranoia bled rampantly into the soul of the town. The people were scared, the detectives were clueless, countlessly pleading to the murderer or kidnapper or Buffalo Bill doing this, bribing them with favors on the news broadcast.

Nothing worked. Our numbers went down, and down, and down, until Sunday, October 13th we finally found out the reason why. It was a town hall meeting called by Mayor whatshisface. He had set his globby face into a stern frown and tried to command control through his horrid posture, but all that trained through my mind is the fact I didn’t vote for him. I had definitely overslept, I think.

I don’t remember much–-if at all the course of the day. But I do remember the bellowing sound that made his flesh turn ghostly pale. His eyes dilated as fear squeezed them tight. Goosebumps had walked a path up my arms, and for a minute, it felt like my heart had stopped.

No one moved, no one even made eye contact, as their attention turned towards the big windows. My father had forced me to a stoop at that point, his body positioned in front of mine, his eyes awaiting any danger.

It was quiet.

Before an echo occurred.

The Hall Is On Fire.

The Hall Is On Fire.

The Hall Is On Fire.

Instinctively, I had put my hands on my ears, not realizing why. Everyone who appeared scared, wore masks of confusion before a couple, David and Annie who were regulars at my father’s butcher shop, began to scream. They looked around fearfully, patting their skin, their hair, like flame had been generated onto them. Then suddenly, both ran outside.

A few people had run to the windows to catch a glimpse before declaring they had disappeared. They hadn’t been gone for even a minute yet were nowhere seen as only a vast parking lot covered the front area.

It's now been 2 months since we discovered the echo. And it’s gotten deadly. It’s like it believes we're a game to them. A bunch of dolls they can readjust and position as they want. They had blocked every exit out of the town. When some people went to leave through the abandoned river and even a tunnel through the mountains, they had arrived back home. Their mental torture turned physical as more people died then disappeared into the voices. At this point, whoever they didn’t pick off, the remaining people left will do it for them.

We separated ourselves into groups, losing morals, human decency. We had nothing left.

Well, they had nothing left.

Placing the tip of the match onto the wick’s, a bright orange flame lights the bedroom. My eyes instantly find the dead body lying lifelessly in front of me. My eyes look around the room decorated with weird symbols, news clippings, and God knows what else this old freak knew.

My eyes flick to the journal in my hands and in red cursive writing, PROCEED WITH CAUTION graces the front page. My eyes switched to him, his face almost unrecognizable as scissor marks covered his face and his last remaining eye next to him.

I go back to the journal.

“Gonna die anyway.” I flip a page and see old photographs of people on the mountains. Whoever took the picture was always behind them, almost hidden away from their view. It continued on until page 4.

Whoever is reading this, you either killed me or the echos did.

“And they got you bad,” I whispered before going back to the letter.

There is an evil entity in Rocky Peaks, living within the mountain. In the early progression of the town, there were people who had lived in the mountains. Many of the villagers had called them Satan’s children.

In the dead of the night, they would sneak through tunnels underneath the town, infiltrating people’s home, killing them dead before taking their bodies and sacrificing it to their God. No one knew how these people disappeared until a survivor of one the families said they saw the deformed, zombie like personas of these people, leaving through the forest that circled back to their home.

Outraged, angry humans did what they did best. Retaliate. They went to the mountains clear as day and lit a fire no one could escape from. Blocking every exit, every passage to the forest. All of the people burned, and it wasn’t until they wanted to start making the town profitable, the ancestors of those families, removed the blockades. But the damage that was left behind was too graphic. And the worst part is, they weren't dead.

“What?” I ask, flipping the page hurriedly.

All the news articles were scrubbed of course. But the ten men who were tasked in cleaning the cave–only one made it out and shucks was he in bad shape. He was missing an eye, but even he claimed the undead was walking among them. The cave was sealed up but the souls were now awake and they were relying on their God to avenge them.

Through my research, I’ve discovered three things.

One, only people can survive the echo, but it won’t stop them from attracting more to the town. Unless…you venture into the caves and destroy the source of the sound.

Two, an enchanted ornament is used by these evil ones, and they won’t rest until it’s destroyed.

Three, with these symbols around the walls, you can become almost invisible to them, but you must not let anyone catch you putting them on. These creatures have hosts throughout and if they find out we know, you’ll end up becoming just like me.

I learned too late you can escape. Save yourself. Just draw the symbols around your body and cover it in the blood of your sacrifice. Not a dead one.

Don’t be courageous. Save yourself.

My head snaps up as I hear the creak of the front porch steps. Standing up, I make a dash and hide behind the wall, flattening my spine against the cold, dark-beige wall.