The Curse of Beaver Falls

The winter has been long, cold, and dark, yet the people of Beaver Falls had been holding out as long as possible. Many regretted their choice to move into the small settlement in the middle of the mountains while others begged for a painless death. Everywhere one looked, all they would see was misery.

For some reason, the only one who seemed to be doing well was Mr. Delenore the grumpy old miner who lived on the outskirts of town. Most people thought he was just a crazy, lonely man with too much time on his hands after the mine closed down for the season, but, as each day passed, he seemed to grow more feral, like a dog falling to the symptoms of rabies.

Rebecca, a young woman of eighteen, didn't mind him, though. He was always so kind to her, offering her the extra meat in his ice box to make sure she was well-fed, and she always checked in on him, running errands for him and bringing him news from the rest of the settlers.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Delenore,” Rebecca said as she walked up to the door of his log cabin, holding the bag of groceries she had been sent to get. “You're not going to believe it, but they had more of that licorice candy you like so much.” Mr. Delenore smiled as he reached for the bag she offered him.

“It's about damn time,” he commented as he started to search the bag. “I’ve been nagging old Mr. Stuart to get the candy for almost a month now.” Used to the way Mr. Delenore liked to complain about everything, Rebecca smiled and sat down in the old, wooden rocking chair next to him.

“I know, but it's the weather,” she reminded him gently. “It's been really dangerous on the roads recently. If the snow doesn't make it impossible to leave, something in the woods is picking people off.” Mr. Delenore froze and carefully looked up at Rebecca, a strange, almost sad look on his face as he stared at her.

“Something is picking people off?” he asked uncertainly, and Rebecca nodded in response.

“Everyone in town seems to think it's a bear or a pack of wolves, but something has been attacking people,” she informed him. “Whatever it is, it already got Jonathan and Jacob Brook, old man Richard on the other side of town, and Walter Stuart Jr.” Mr. Delenore winced at the last name, and Rebecca didn't blame him.

Walter Stuart Jr. was the golden boy of the settlement. Instead of moving away the day he finished school like so many children did, he started helping his aging father at the general store, even delivering mail to the nearest towns and picking up supplies for the rest of the settlement. If it hadn't been for him, the settlement probably would have died out by now.

So, when his wagon of supplies showed up in his father's stables without him, every able-bodied man joined the search party, hoping to rescue the kind young man before the weather finished him off. However, after almost four long, grueling days searching the frozen woods between the settlement and the surrounding towns, they finally found what remained of his body in a cave near the settlement, exactly where they had found every other body of the other settlers who had gone missing.

The poor boy had been torn to shreds, and parts of him were missing. Whatever had gotten him was making slow progress on its consumption of him, so most of what remained was frozen to the cold, stone ground. Instead of leaving him where he was, they decided to gather what they could and burn the rest to scare off whatever killed him.

Of all the settlers, Rebecca had been hit almost as hard as Walter Stuart Sr. Even though the search concluded over a week ago, she still wore the little copper ring Walter Jr. had presented her when he proposed early that summer.

“I'm so sorry,” Mr. Delenore said as he lowered his gaze. “I know how sweet you were on him.” Taking a deep breath, Rebecca shook her head, touched by the fact that even Mr. Delenore was despaired by the news of Walter Jr.

“It's not your fault,” she reminded him as she gave him her sweetest smile. “I mean, it's not like it's you killing everyone and leaving the rest of us to starve, right?” She started to giggle until she saw the dark expression on Mr. Delenore’s face and politely cleared her throat. “Anyways, thank you… I’ve been trying so hard these days not to think about Walter, but I still can't get over him.” However, Mr. Delenore wasn't paying attention.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” he asked suddenly, cutting off Rebecca's grief-stricken conversation. “It's too cold to be sitting out here yapping about what's going on to not have a hot drink to keep us warm.” Surprised by his change in attitude, Rebecca sat there stunned for a moment.

Of course, she understood that she might have taken her joke a little too far, but, with the way he was acting, one might think that she had directly accused Mr. Delenore of being a killer, making him uncomfortable and wanting to change the subject. Granted, he was a superstitious old man who lived away from everyone else and tended to keep to himself, but that's what happens when you take away a man’s happiness: he grows distant and becomes a stranger to even his closest friends.

Without even waiting for a response, Mr. Delenore walked into the cabin, leaving Rebecca outside on the rocking chair as the sun started to sink toward the tree lines. Even though she was a full-grown woman and had been granted the freedom to pursue a life of her own, she still lived with her parents as she waited for her wedding day, and they expected her back before dark for dinner. The fact that some animal was running around in the woods, attacking anyone alone at night, had solidified the curfew not just for her, but for everyone in the settlement.

I can't stay too much longer, she thought to herself as she watched the sky. It took almost an hour to get here, and Mom and Dad will be worried if I’m not home soon. Would it be rude for me to decline and leave already? That was as far as she got before Mr. Delenore stepped out of his cabin, holding two steaming metal mugs, and offered one of them to Rebecca.

“Here you go,” he said as he offered her the mug. “Three sugars and a splash of cream.” As nice as it was that, despite how forgetful Mr. Delenore was, he still remembered exactly how she took her coffee, Rebecca felt a chill run down her spine as she stared at the mug.

“Actually, I should really be going,” she said as she rose up from the rocking chair. “It's getting dark, and Mom and Dad are expecting me home in time for dinner.” Looking from her to the mug and back again, he shook his head.

“I insist,” he protested. “Like I said, it's too damn cold out here. You could catch your death out here, and here I am not being a good host and offering you a chance to warm up. Drink this, and I'll go hitch up the wagon so I can drive you home.” Never in her years helping out Mr. Delenore had he ever offered her a ride home, and this struck Rebecca as odd.

He's been acting strange ever since I brought up the animal attacks, she reasoned with herself, trying to pinpoint why she suddenly felt so alert around the kind, generous man who had always treated her kindly. Is it possible he knows something about what's been happening? Whether or not it was the case, she didn't want to take the risk.

“Oh, that's okay,” she replied as she wrapped her shawl a little more tightly around her body. “If I leave now, I can make it home in plenty of time.” She flashed him her sweetest smile, but, on the inside, she was shaking in fear.

No, she wouldn't go straight home. Instead, she would go straight to Henry and Susan Watson's house, about a mile from Mr. Delenore, and stay there until morning. After that, she would go to her parents and the sheriff and tell them about Mr. Delenore and his strange behavior. If everything checked out, then she would return and apologize, maybe blaming the death of her fiance for her behavior, and allow everything to return to normal.

If not…

“No, please,” Mr. Delenore exploded, rushing forward and, dropping the mugs, took both her hands in his. “Please, just let me drive you to town. It's too dangerous to be out by yourself.” Startled by his outburst, Rebecca pulled away and started to back away, slowly making her way to the path that would take her to the Watson's house.

“Oh, no thank you,” she said, silently praying that he would just let her go. “I don't want to bother you. Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow.” With that, she turned away and started walking into the woods.

“Wait!” called out Mr. Delenore, and Rebecca looked back only to see him running after her.

So, she thought as her heart roared so loudly that she swore it could be heard from the settlement. He does have something to do with the attacks. This new realization was enough to make her turn back towards the woods, and she ran as fast as her tiny feet could carry her.

Everything in her was alive… Her face heated up as she struggled to catch her breath, clearly not used to having to run like this. Her heart felt like it would explode in her chest from the extra stress. Her mind raced at a million miles an hour.

Behind her, Mr. Delenore ran faster than he had ever run in his life. There was a wild look of panic on his face, and, unknown to Rebecca, he had his double-barrel coach gun in hand, but he didn't seem to want to use it on her.

In fact, it looked almost as if he had anticipated danger and was attempting to save her…

Two gunshots sounded off in the woods behind her, and Rebecca dropped to the ground, trying her best not to scream. She didn't hear the whizz of the slug pass her by, nor did she feel the expected feeling of being knocked to the ground as a slug tore into her. If anything, once everything was silent around her, all she could feel was her heart pounding in her chest, and all she could hear was her heavy breath warming the bank of snow she had landed face fatst in. Darkness was falling as she rose to her feet, dusted the excess snow from her dress, and looked around, both shocked and terrified.

He was gone… Mr. Delenore was gone. He had simply disappeared from the path.

He must have thought he got me and panicked, she thought as she looked around, confusion starting to take over as the adrenaline that fueled her attempted escape drained from her body. Maybe he went back to his cabin and decided to leave me out here once he thought he shot me. I wonder what kind of excuse he’ll make when everyone finds out what he did.

Unfortunately, poor Rebecca was too distracted by her thoughts to realize that she was no longer alone in the woods. Behind her, appearing from behind the trees, was a massive, pale figure with a rack of deer horns on its head and a bloody smile on its face as it looked at its unsuspecting prey and let out an earth-shaking screech that caught her attention. The last thing Rebecca saw was the creature leaping from tree trunk to tree trunk before leaping at her with those massive claws.

Neither Mr. Delenore nor Rebecca were ever seen alive again by their friends and neighbors, and only Mr. Delenore was never discovered. Poor Rebecca was found in the same cave as her former lover, half consumed and frozen from the winter snow that had fallen the night she disappeared. The only thing that struck the settlers as odd was the fact that, on her left hand, none of her fingers had been touched, but the little copper ring Walter Jr. had given her was missing.

Either way, the death of Rebecca Carrow and the disappearance of Ananias Delenore were enough to chase off the rest of the settlers. Before the first thawing of spring, most of the settlers had moved to nearby towns while those who remained disappeared one by one, each time complaining of a voice in the woods that sounded like Ananias Delenore. By the time spring had fully taken over, the entire settlement was empty, and a single paper with a warning had been posted.

“Enter if you dare, but be warned. The land is cursed, and your end is near.”