Demons Unite A Collection Of Scary Short Stories

By Dongbaek Sasang

“Don’t say a word. It’s trying to come in,” Li Na whispered from under the table. Her face was white as a ghost.

“Please, please, tell me this a joke,” tears were falling down my face. I have never been so terrified in my life. I can’t believe this.

“It’s going to kill us,” she said. You could see the fear on her face. The round door-handle slightly turned half a rotation, and it tried to stealthily enter. The door slightly pushed forward and jerked to a stop from the various locks and latches. Then, it knocked on the door. The knock was ever so slight. Like a meek and docile old woman was politely asking permission to enter. Li Na and I were silently weeping. We couldn’t say a word even if we wanted to. Then, it just started freaking out. It started pounding the door, and the door shook violently. I could hear the creature thrashing around frantically behind the door. The latches and chains bounced back and forth on the large wooden door. It was enraged. It was going to break in one way or another; it was only a matter of seconds...

From the story The legend Of The Torosdal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dongbaek Sasang
• Release date: Feb 27, 2018

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Demons Unite

By Dongbaek Sasang

Copyright 2018

Public Domain

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Table of Contents

Deep In The Adirondack Mountains

Disappearing Students

Rural Renfrew County

Final Resting Place

Death Delivery

Legend Of The Torosdal

Deep In The Adirondack Mountains

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 1

T

o this day, nobody believed this story, but it needs to be told for various scientific and humanitarian reasons. When I was just a young man in the early 1990’s, I had been working for a small engineering company based in California.  After many years of working for the company, putting in long twelve-hour days and weekends, the company was finally starting to expand its operations. The company had a big project in New York that needed a senior technical engineer on site. Naturally, as a young man at the time without a family, I jumped at the opportunity to live and work in New York City. I packed my bags and flew to New York City the next month. I arrived in the city and moved into my new apartment in Soho. Shortly after, work started on the development project in the Upper East Side. The city was remarkable, although dangerous back then. This was during Mayor Rudy Giuliani’s plan of aggressive policing when he was trying to clean the city up. Regardless, I was always a little paranoid coming home from the subway after a late night at the office.  Before I knew it, I was settled into my new life in New York City.

Summer soon turned into fall, and the project slowly wrapped up. The project came in under budget and under cost. My seniors were very pleased indeed.  Actually, the project manager was so happy with my performance; he invited me to come spend some time at his private cabin deep in the Adirondack Mountains with some colleagues. He explained the Adirondack Mountain range was bigger than all the national parks, including Yellowstone Park. The size of the park is 6.1 million acres, 1/5th the size of the entire state of New York; almost eight times the size of California’s Yosemite Park. I had gone camping in Yosemite before, and I highly enjoyed the experience. I thought it would be rude to turn down his offer, so I accepted. Nevertheless, I thought it would be a nice little vacation, and I would be able to do some networking there. The Project Manager explained the group would start hiking on Wednesday, and they would arrive at the cabin by Saturday. The cabin was so remote, a person couldn’t even get a car within thirty miles of the cabin. The rest of the way would have to be hiked, but there was one minor problem. I wasn’t officially finished with my duties for the project until Thursday. This meant, I had to hike for three nights by myself. Three nights in the wilderness of introspective relaxation seemed very appealing, so this was not a problem.

On Friday evening after work, I left the office late and went home. Occasionally, looking behind my shoulder to see if anyone was following me like usual. I gathered all my camping supplies, a heavy-duty winter sleeping bag, tent, matches, food, water and started the four-hour drive from New York City. I got out of the office very late that night and didn’t end up getting on the road until 7 p.m. The drive was about four hours long and was very scenic. Lush forests, long meandering mountain ranges, and oddly shaped lakes could be seen throughout the entire journey there. The highway soon transformed into a small dirt road with dark forests on either side, and the crunching sound of gravel being kicked up from the car could be heard. The sunset gradually cast flurries of orange and red into the horizon, as the day was all but done. It soon became pitch black in all directions, and a million galaxies illumining the sky could be seen. After many hours of driving, I arrived in a small town on the border of Vermont, and realized I needed to find a place to sleep for the night. According to my tattered map, this town was the closest place I could leave my car before getting on the trail. The town gave the illusion of an old country western village that would be seen from an old cowboy movie. There were countless old wooden dilapidated houses, all of them abandoned.  Their front yards all had wild plants growing with long uncut grass. The streets were broken and cracked, next to similar looking sidewalks. The streets were desolated, and the place clearly once had life but now was barren. An eerie feeling crept into my stomach, this place just made me feel uneasy. Something just wasn’t right there.

As I approached an intersection in my car, there was a small bed and breakfast accommodation. I was ecstatic to find a place to stay, so I didn’t have to sleep in my car on that brisk autumn night. I drove into the parking lot, parked the car, and entered the small wooden Victorian style guest house.  As I opened the creaky door, a small bell jingled, and an elderly man slowly got up from the backroom.

Are there any available rooms tonight? I asked.

Yes, we do, he slowly replied as he shuffled from the backroom. Something was off about this guy.

Perfect, I will stay here only one night, and I will make my way for the mountains at first light tomorrow, I mentioned as the old man stumbled behind the front desk.

Of course, they all do. Why else would you be here? he started laughing as he fidgeted with some small keys on the wall, labeled with room numbers.

It would seem like this town has seen better days. How long have you lived here? I said uncomfortably, trying to make the situation less awkward.

"My whole life in fact. This place was once a bustling town believe it or not. Back in the 1950’s they had a few garnet and zinc mines in the area. The population was big, and It continued to grow for a decade. Then, one day the mines all closed due to the prices of Zinc and Garnet dropping so damned much. The effects on the town were terrible. Alcoholism, poverty and family abuse. Half the town just packed their bags and left everything behind, even their children." He spoke with a strange look on his face that made me feel uncomfortable. I thanked him and went to my room for the night. I barely slept that night, something about that old man’s story made me uneasy. Something about this place was off. From my window, a crescent moon dimly lit the long and winding mountain range. A cool breeze came through the window, and little goose bumps appeared on my arm. But not because it was cold.

Chapter 2

The next morning the old man let me keep my car in his parking lot for a week, as long as I gave him a hefty tip. I quickly gathered all my camping gear and marched towards the looming mountain range. It projected a long shadow over the small deserted town. I walked through the decrepit town, and the road started to become inclined. As I was walking through the boarded-up houses, the face of a ragged person appeared in the window and quickly ducked out of sight. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me. That house was clearly condemned; who could possibly be living there? Eventually, at the top of the village the beginning of the mountainous area could be seen. The last of the broken-down houses in the village came into view. They lingered around the circumference of the mountain. An old rock stairwell appeared with thick trees covering it. That pathway had not been hiked in ages. 

The trail had beautiful, lush woodlands with sprawling wildlife.  Occasionally a large glacial lake was visible, with lengthy streams flowing outwards from the edges. The path straddled up and down the mountains and in-between valleys. Around sunset I managed to find a small clearing in the woods, which would be perfect for spending the night. These trails were too dangerous to be navigating at night because some of the paths went alongside cliffs. Also, large boulders needed to be climbed. I pitched my tent, made a small fire, and sat there thinking about life and the world. Everything was very quiet, except for the sporadic crackling of the campfire; it was completely serene. Suddenly, noises began, as if something was circling around the campsite. The noises were coming from the forest outside the clearing. I shrugged it off as a curious animal.