Movement on the Mountain

As I took in the hot morning sun blasting through the window, the car engine roared to a level so quiet, hushed out of my mind, it would be mad to think it even running. The country lanes bent from one side to the other, willing to take hold any an unfamiliar driver. But after all, I knew those roads. Just another uneventful morning on the typically hour drive to work. You see I live in a small town around 20 miles from the city in which I worked. I won’t bother the reader with the boring life of an office desk and paperwork, but travelling back and two, daily, over several years I may add, gave that long road a sense of home to me. And I did so love the views you could witness over the short-trimmed hedges along that open road. At least until that day.

Around 2 and a half miles along that open scenic route the passage opens to a grand view of a tall mountain, nameless to me, but at this point felt as close as a relative. I admired the view I had of it if only it were for around 2 minutes maximum on a round trip for that day, before tall hedges and walls shadowed the view. The picture of that mountain stood firm in my mind, every edge, every grassy patch and every single tree. So, on this day I build my story to where it began.

That strangely warm November morning as I approached the scene, something was off about the mountain. No farmland existed near it and no open trail for avid walkers lead anywhere near it, yet I swear on the mountain side I caught a glimpse of an animal. I distinctly remember raising my head in witness to it as the taller hedges began to block my view someway down the road. You may think me odd for exaggerating the spotting of a harmless wild sheep or horse, but I tell you what I saw that day resembled no animal I had ever seen before. I could have sworn it to be walking upright on two legs like any person would, and its arms swung as low as its knees.

After reaching work that day I thought it only a figment of my imagination and thought no more of it. After all I saw no such thing on the drive home. I awoke the next morning fresh as ever and began my journey along the country road again. I chuckled to myself of the thought of witnessing a creature as I did the day before and assured my mind that only the picturesque view lay ahead. Never have I thought myself insane before, but on that second day as I passed again, I saw the beast again. Arched and slouching it dragged its dark brush like figure up the mountain. To see something so strange once some might call a mistake, to see it again only worse, others would call mad. Yet on that day it was not alone. As a shadow acts completely synchronous to all moving objects, so did the second beast, only around 5 seconds behind. It followed the first to the step, the swing of the arms, the slip of the foot. In a slight shock I accelerated the car and made my way to work.

Surely, you’d think I must have simply witnessed a pair of hikers following a treacherous path where every movement, so precise had to be played out as it lay. I fought my senses and set my mind at ease. Again, nothing was to be seen on the way home that evening. I awoke in a blunder the next day and wondered if I was to witness the strange happenings again. I got into my car that morning and made my way along the road. As I reached the mountain view, no longer in wonder if this was a figment of my imagination, I saw the beasts again. Only now there were four. I brought the car to a halt and made my way towards the edge of the road overlooking the mountain I watched as they followed each other step by step from the bottom of the mountain to the top. It seems now a good time to mention that at this scenic point the road does narrow, and unfortunately for the first time in a while a passing car made its way towards me. As there was no room to pass, the stranger got out and asked what exactly I was doing. As I turned to face them, I began to explain what I had saw. Or so I thought. The best my mind could compute at that point was “There!” as I pointed towards the mountain. Possibly lost in a fantasy of my own mind, as the stranger and I turned our heads towards the view, only the mountain stood. Empty of beasts or monsters, as if they had never existed.

I rubbed my eyes and looked again in amazement, but there was nothing to be seen. I apologised to the stranger and drove my car out the way. I felt slightly queasy from the incident and instead found an opening in the road where I could turn the car around and made my way home that day. That night I must have searched every source known to man to see if I could find something on what I had seen, but to no end. What were these creatures? If I was to study them the best I could do so was during my average trip to work daily. During my drives throughout that week, each time I passed, their numbers doubled. From four to eight, from eight to sixteen all the way up as I could count to sixty-four on that seventh day. I could make no sense of it. I heard nothing of it on the radio and had no other witnesses. Following suit, I made my way past on the eighth day, expecting a much larger number of trekking beasts. But no. As I had seen them throughout that dreadful week, so had they seen me. On the eighth day as I drove past, the beasts, still plainly real in my world, for the first time were not making their way up the mountain.

Instead they stood completely still, like trees on a day of no wind. And I saw them. As they simply stared, like a dagger to the soul. I did not stop in fear something worse was to come. As the break of the ninth day came at sunrise, I felt as though I had to face these creatures in some way. I left a few hours earlier as the sun just began to part the clouds over the morning in hopes to see if I could witness from what pit of despair they were to be crawling out from. I reached the view to behold nothing but the mountain. I fully intended not to go to work that day and instead had packed a flask of tea and binoculars as to just watch the creatures be. I sat on the bonnet of my car maybe a whole 20 hours from light to dark. Nothing! Whether the beasts had finally disappeared for good that day, or just wanted to play tricks on me, not a single one was to be seen that day.

Assured that the ordeal was finally over I made my way home in the early hours of the morning in hopes to return to my normal days. I will not lie as I passed the mountain on that final tenth day I cowered at its view. At last the beasts were gone. I made my way to work and fully enjoyed my normal day. Having fallen behind I stayed late in work that evening finishing at around 8 o clock, at which I began my drive home. In the dark of the night the north star shone bright, almost providing light to the road. The road felt strange. It didn’t turn where it used to and swung around in odd places. Although familiar to my location, I was lost. I felt a familiarity as I turned one bend, so much so I knew what lay ahead. Within the next second I turned another bend to the open view of the mountain. That night my eyes did not fix towards the mountain but lay directly what stood in front of my car in the road.

Coming to a complete hard stop, the headlights fixed on the nightmare that spread itself in front of me. I opened my car door slowly and stepped out. All that was to be heard was a gentle moaning hum clearly coming from the collections of the beasts that stood in front of me. I gasped in shock of the hundreds of them there and felt the presence of death himself. I fell faint to the moan growing louder and louder as the beasts marched their way slowly towards me, until I passed out to the darkness. I awake now in my bed quickly taking pen in hand to tell of the accounts of the strange I have witnessed in fear of what may come of it. I never felt myself a man of god but await patiently in prayer for safety. The hushed moan from outside the door has come, and this time I fear I may not wake.

Taken from the diary of Anthony Neel.

Found dead in his home November 26th 1995

Cause of death - unknown