Beyond The Garden Wall

“The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.” Lyial Graymont ran forward through the empty fountain in the center of the Graymont Estate garden. Gardeners had emptied the fountain days before to avoid any damage that could come from the icy climate of the fast-approaching winter. Lyial was a young boy in his early teens and quite short for his age. He wore his signature flat cap and matching brown vest with pride. He looked out across the sea of vibrant red, yellow, and violet garden flowers with a twinkle of adventure in his twilight blue eyes. “That’s how the story always starts. They always know how it starts, but the ending always changes Prin! We have to learn the truth about the cabin. No good story ends differently each time it’s told.”

The strange companion of the boy, Prin, was an armadillo that followed Lyial around whenever he wasn’t busy sleeping the day away. He paced around the outside of the fountain, unable to climb up the steep sides of the basin.

A strong wind blew across the neatly groomed hedges and brightly colored flowers, pushing Lyial’s back towards the back of the Graymont Estate, where a ten-foot-tall stone wall wrapped around the garden. “You see Prin, even the wind is calling for it. It wants a proper end to the story about the cabin! Today, we overcome fear! Let’s get on our way.” Screaming with delight, the boy jumped down into the fountain basin and ran out onto a stone path lined with white chrysanthemums.

The autumn sun was taking its leave, descending behind the giant redwoods that made up the forest beyond the wall. Vibrant hues of red, yellow, and violet spilled out across the sky, mimicking the flowers of the garden like the splattered paint of an angry artist. The stone wall looked more intimidating up close. Lyial walked through the long unkempt wild grass and pressed his hand to the gateway that was sealed shut with metal plates long ago. Thick vines crawled up the dirt-covered wall. The wall and area around it had become feral. No one dared come near to touch it up. The residents of the Graymont Estate dared not even go near the wall. A daunting cabin, with more stories told about it than sightings, hid among the forest. The late Raymond Graymont, who passed earlier in the summer, was the last person left that had ventured beyond the wall before its sealing.

The twinkling in Lyial’s eyes grew more excited and sporadic. “What do you think, Prin?” He tugged at the vines, testing their strength, grinning ear to ear. “Hold on to me tight, boy. I’ll get us over the top in no time.” He scooped up the armadillo, placing him on his shoulder. He scaled the wall, using the vines as a grip. Halfway up the wall, he pricked his hand on a thorn he had not seen. With a small yelp and a quick shake, he regained his composure and carried on. Another thorn prick. Carefully studying the vines, he found no other thorns. With relentless determination, he made it over the top of the wall, taking a quick break and sitting on top of the wall.

He looked out between the wooden giants where the light struggled to make it. The sun struggled to cast light through an ocean of leaves. The light bled a deep red hue, like the drops of blood escaping from the minor cuts on his hands. His gazed drifted back to the garden and large estate, reminding him of summer joy and smiles. The atmosphere of the forest had invaded the garden, oppressively forcing its vibrancy to conform to a singular red.

“No reason to be scared. I’ll get us to the bottom safe, Prin,” Lyial said, starting his descent with the sun, trying to reassure Prin, who was convulsing. There were no more thorns to warn not to stray beyond the garden wall. “Time to uncover the truth, Prin, and write a true story, with an ending always remembered. Retold the same way!”

The air in the woods was stale, red leaves covered the ground. The odd pair started through the sea of giants. Prin, clearly on edge, kept stopping to look back at the wall. Not wanting to be left behind, he struggled to keep pace with Lyial.

They kept forward, time slowing until the trip became an eternity. They looked back, the wall disappeared into the monochromatic landscape of trees and leaves. “Do you think the cabin even exists, Prin? Or is it just another lie adults tell to scare us from doing things they think are bad?” Lyial started slowing down, growing impatient, his excitement waning. Prin motioned to turn around, but Lyial shook his head and they kept on.

Time stood still in the woods. The sun made it its duty to provide them with light, refusing to disappear beyond the horizon, fighting through the trees as much as it could. Lyial tripped on a root growing above ground and as he hit the dirt, the world felt like it flipped. As he got back to his feet, dusting off his pants, he saw it.

A large cabin stood gallantly amongst the trees. The front yard matched the Graymont Estate with an oppressive stone wall wrapping around the grounds, disappearing behind the cabin. The grass, however, messy and overgrown, and the flowers were dead with just brown stems erected from the dirt. A large metal gate stood welcoming the two in, its maw wide open, hungry for visitors. The cabin had multiple stories, and a thick layer of grime covered all the windows. Thorny vines raced up its walls. One window, however, next to the entrance, was clear, as if it had received regular cleanings. In it stood a large, unlit candle.

“This it is Prin! Look, there’s the candle. We have to go see what secrets it hides. Adults always try to hide anything fun or interesting.” He raced through the gate and down the stone path towards the large doors. Prin became frozen with fear and wouldn’t budge. “Come on now, Prin, nap later, adventure awaits.”

Prin still refused to budge as Lyial knocked on the door. He waited a while and knocked again, not expecting a response but wanting to keep his manners about him. He tested the rusty doorknob, and it clicked, allowing the door to push forward easily. “Ok Prin, just wait there. I’ll tell you all about it when I come back.”

Lyial stepped into the dark, unlit cabin. The air was thick, musty, and smelled strongly of mildew and mold. It was spacious inside. Two doors resided on the back wall on either side of an enormous fireplace. The heads of various animals glared down at them from the wall. Some had parts of other animals stitched onto them. A wolf's head with three sets of antlers sticking out of it, a goat stuffed with various tongues, a couple of dears with more ears than they should have, and a turtle that’s shell had four dark black crow’s wings attacked to it.

Besides the odd décor choice of taxidermy, there wasn’t much strange about the musty old cabin. Identical hallways opened up beside the mounted animas, one leading back and another going left. The right side wall contained a staircase descending into darkness, another reaching towards heaven, cut short by the balcony wrapping around the perimeter of the second floor. Grand portraits hung from the walls of people Lyial had recognized from the Graymont Estate. Men and women that had long passed, including his grandfather Robert as a child. The younger generation of Graymonts, including Lyial, were not part of the collection. Three of the portraits were a black abyss, canvas burned away long ago, melting away the artists’ best depiction.

“Curious boys who wander into spider webs don’t make it out.” An unnerving laugh bellowed from an old man, his chair tucked away in the corner accompanying the unlit candle. He had a big gray overgrown beard covering a desert of wrinkles. One side of his face rippled with burn scars. He had deep set eyes, like they had never seen light and looked decrepit. A simple wind would turn his rotting shell to dust at any moment. A Winchester Model 54 sat across his lap. The gun made Lyial uncomfortable. “No need to worry, boy. This is just for the local critters. As you can see, they make lovely decorations.” His chilling laugh came out again.

“What is this cabin? Who are you? Who lives here? “

“The Graymont Cabin, I’m sure you’ve heard tales. Although the footsteps of Graymonts have long eroded lost in time. I’m Clyde, the groundskeeper. Alone I keep this place in tiptop shape, always have, impressed with my work?” He grinned. “Margot Graymont is the only person who lives here. I’m sure she’ll introduce herself soon. She always does.” His unsettling laugh echoed around the cabin.

“Who is she? Why doesn’t anyone come here anymore? What do adults fear about venturing beyond the wall? They all have scary stories and warnings, but can’t answer simple questions and no one knows the truth.”

“Wait until the sun goes down and the candle is lit. The truth behind this cabin will reveal itself to you. Please look around until then. What better way to answer all your questions than self-discovery?” The strange man chuckled.

Lyial started walking towards one doorway near the fireplace. “What’s over here?” Lyial glanced over his shoulder at the old man, but he was gone. Now’s no time to get spooked. He probably just went upstairs. I hadn’t seen him come in to start with. Lyial’s mind raced to come up with an explanation. He walked into a spacious old kitchen left in disrepair. The cabinets were hanging from the wall their nails ready to give out, dust covered the countertops, there was mold spreading across the back wall, and pots and pans stood, thrown about the place with broken jars littering the floor. Another doorway in the back led to the garden outside.

The entire cabin shook violently. Nothing fell. Lyial used the island in the middle of the room as support. As quick as it started, the shaking stopped, and Lyial made his way towards the foyer.

He looked around, nothing immediately struck out to Lyial. “Clyde?” Calling for the groundskeeper, he needed to know what was happening. There was no response. The cabin shook again, this time throwing him to the floor.

His hands landed on some sharp glass that had been laying on the floor. He let out a scream of pain as blood rushed out. He got himself to his feet with tears filling his eyes. His gaze turned towards the now lit candle. A large bang came from upstairs, startling him.

Lyial hurriedly ran to the door, tugging at the knob. The pain in his hands shot through his arm, causing more tears to stream down his face. The door wouldn’t give, no matter how hard he tried.

“Please, please, please open!” He cried out, his heart racing ever faster as another loud bang went off. “Prin! Help Prin!”

“Oh, sweet little one.”

Lyial froze. A soft and maternal voice drifted through the air. Like he was hearing his mother whisper goodnight and yet something was off. It made every hair on his body stand up. He stopped breathing, afraid any slight sound would bring the owner of the voice to him. Staring at the door, he feared what would appear. Praying that he would just pass through the moldy decaying wood. Blood slowly ran down the knob. He watched as it fell to the floor.

“That’s a dear. I’ll keep you safe.” A frozen breath on his neck alerted him to a woman’s head hovering over his shoulder, whose skin was peeling off her face. Most of her stringy black and grey hair had fallen out. One eye hung from its socket. She lightly ran her yellowed, boney fingers across his neck.

Lyial screamed and shoved at the woman before running towards the left hall. In his panic, he barely noticed that the room had changed. The portraits were all burned up. Except for the missing portraits and a youthful picture of the monster chasing him. All the stuffed animals around the fireplace had disappeared. Outside was nothingness, as if the cabin had disappeared into an abyss.

He ran into the hall, which was slowly twisting, the laughter of his pursuer echoing behind him. He rounded the corner into the first open doorway on his right opening into a lounge and froze. In the middle sat a large blackjack table and in a circle around it sat the mounted animals with ghostly bodies that looked almost human. Laying on the table was a child Lyial recognized from the old Graymont Estate portraits, one of the burned out portraits that restored itself. They had stretched the skin around his abdomen like a canvas and pinned it down to the tabletop, exposing the inner workings of the child. The winner of each blackjack round would reach into the child and pull out his guts, consuming them while the child squirmed, trying to scream, but they had already ripped his vocal cords out to make the game more enjoyable.

“Don’t worry, child, you do not need this room. I have the perfect place for you.” The old woman caught up to Lyial, grabbing him by his neck. Pulling him back through the twisting hall, towards the back of the cabin. Lyial screamed and clawed at the old woman’s hand. Her grip tightened, cutting off more airflow dragging across the floor.

As they passed by the kitchen, Lyial saw the decapitated head of a young girl screaming, her hair tied to some pipes above the sink, her neck dripping an endless sea of blood. The grounds keeper with a large butcher’s knife cut up one of her arms before throwing it into a stew pot with an assortment of rotten vegetables. He caught Lyial’s eye and gave him a smile, tipping his hat. Lyial’s strength gave out as they reached a door leading to the back garden. Tears ran down his cheeks. Thinking of the people who warned him never to venture beyond the garden wall. His father and mother, who he would likely never see again.

A stone wall surrounded the garden, just like the Graymont Estate. The only difference was there was nothing beyond it but blackness. An endless abyss. They were no longer in the plane of the living. Everything in the garden was dead, decaying squirrels and birds roamed the garden. In the middle was a fountain. It also had a cross at the center.

“You’ll look so lovely here, and the crows will appreciate the feast you provide.” The woman wailed with laughter, nailing Lyial’s hands and feet in place. “You craved the truth of this place, boy?” She smiled. Her eye that had been hanging out of its socket was swaying slightly.

Lyial shook his head with the last of his strength. He just wanted to go home. “So be it. I will tell you a secret for all your troubles. In this place, there is no end.” She turned, still laughing, as she walked back to the cabin. The decaying crows flocked to the boy, picking at every part of him, conducting an orchestra of screams.

• • •

A stampede of footsteps echoed through the dark forest. A group of four men ran forward, all equipped with rifles. Headed to the clearing where the cabin once stood, they came to a halt. It was nothing more than wild grass underneath a bright full moon. The oldest of the men moved forward towards the middle of the clearing.

“I don’t understand. It should be here.” Another had spoken up.

“Likely she moved it to the other side if she caught Lyial already. We’re too late. Our warnings were not enough for Lyial.”

“They were able to save Robert when he was still young. We must have some plan to recover the child.”

The oldest man stopped in the middle of the clearing. “No, we are too late to save my son.” He bent over where Prin was curled up next to a brown flat cap. “He is gone.”