The Woods

By M. Almanza

Can Horror be fascinating? Its a simple question, yet, rarely asked. Yes, investigating horror and evil can, indeed, be fascinating. It can take you into the world of the supernatural, a kind of Disneyland for weirdoes. Of course, the pursuit of horror can also be dangerous. You can conceivably end up drained of your blood or gnawed to death by a carnivore werewolf. But isnt that the risk you take when you break from the traditional view of the world? What do you do when the world of make-believe becomes real? Do you deny its existence or do you face it straight on? When a fire in a Northern California meadow creates a mature growth of trees practically overnight, it grabs the attention of a hack writer and three of his colleagues. They soon unite with two detectives who cant explain how murdered victim are returning to their homes. Or how a dead gang-banger rose from his coffin to be shot by a swat team. Or how a statue of Christ in the local Catholic Church began crying, creating hundreds of worshipers. As the incidences grow,, the group realizes the woods are the source of the evil and they need to find a way to destroy it. But before they can, the mystery of its existence must be discovered, a mystery so deep that it takes them on an unexpected journey through time and space, heaven and hell, and good and evil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 25, 2006
• ISBN: 9781462836925

Book preview

Chapter 1

William Raddifer was an irreverent man, an exploiter of half-truths, capable of vast exaggerations, a charlatan, earning money by writing true stories of the supernatural that weren’t true.

His book The Devil Himself was number one on the best selling list. All he needed was a man proclaiming he was the Devil and that the little nodes on his forehead were actually his horns. With that sparse documentation, Raddifer was able to concoct an elaborate tale and convince millions of readers the man was actually the Devil living on earth. Unfortunately, a religious fanatic somehow discovered the man’s residence and plunged a knife into his heart. Readers no longer believed the man was the Devil, but the books were sold and the money collected.

This gray morning Raddifer was recovering from another hangover and had stayed home to recover. He turned on the television and began watching the Morning News. After talking about the same boring subjects, the newscaster turned to a story that perked Raddifer’s attention.

An unusual fire had burned in a meadow outside Sunol, California in a clearly defined circle about three hundred feet in diameter and the perimeter had not even been singed. The Fire Department was unable to explain it, but would continue to investigate it.

The incident clicked something in Raddifer’s mind. He began searching in a disorderly pile of books in the corner of his spare room. After a few moments he found the book he was looking for… Demons and Angry Gods. He quickly leafed through the book and stopped on the Chapter The Demon Circle. According to the legend, it had burned in a near perfect circle outside Lejon France in 1836, and practically grew over night into a dense wooded area. It was said a demon had been born in it and that demon had brought great evil to the town. The woods were burned down in 1837 by a priest who sacrificed his life to do it.

It was all too beautiful, too perfect. Compared to this story, The Devil Himself was pale. There was so much more he could exaggerate, so much richer and deeper, in other words, so much more bullshit he could spread.

Raddifer called Mary Watson on the phone. He could hear her fumbling with the phone. She finally spoke. Hello.

Get up, Mary, it’s a great morning. I want you to go to San Francisco with me.

Jesus, William, it’s six in the morning.

I need you to go with me. Come on, we’ll have fun.

What is it, another of your setups?

Now, why do you talk to me that way?

How else can I talk to you?

Okay, get ready. I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours. I’m calling the airlines now.

Separate rooms, right?

Yeah, sure…

As the airplane leveled out, Raddifer ordered a drink.

Drunk, Mary said distastefully.

Just celebrating, my dear…

So what makes you think this is going to be a big story?

"Because I’m going to make it a big story. You see, what I’ve got going for me is the Fire Department’s testimony on the News that the fire actually happened. Without that, my story is worthless. They could say I started the fire myself. Now when I take pictures of it they will know it’s authentic.

Authentic what?

What I told you, the Demon Circle.

Oh, come on, William, you know that’s bullshit.

I know that and you know that, but my readers won’t know that.

That’s because your readers are basically morons.

Yes, but morons with money that buy my books.

Don’t you ever feel guilty?

Do you? Remember you put my tapes on your computer and take money for it.

Don’t remind me.

Come on, we go through this every time I start a book. Will you please relax?

Mary sighed. She knew he was right, but still she couldn’t shake the guilt. After all, if morons wanted to read his books, why should she care? You’re right. The morons deserve you.

Thank you.

Sometimes Mary wished her boss wasn’t such a cad.

Chapter 2

After arriving in San Francisco, Raddifer rented a car and checked in to the Hyatt Regency. They unpacked and had lunch downstairs.

Well, it’s perfect, Raddifer said.

What’s perfect? Mary asked.

The weather…

It’s raining, William. It’s June. It’s not supposed to rain in June.

Exactly, after the fire in France, it rained for two days in the middle of summer. This is perfect!

Please don’t tell me we’re going out in this rain.

But we are.

Why can’t I just stay here while you go?

Because I want your company. Besides, you can stay in the car if you want and listen to your silly talk shows.

Oh, good, I need to catch up.

I’m sure you do.

Okay, I’ll go.

Good girl.

It was about an hour’s drive from San Francisco to the location. Raddifer took the Sunol off ramp from highway 680. It wasn’t much of a town, a few stores and shops in a two block area. Raddifer asked in the grocery store for directions to the fire. Everybody seem to know about it and was happy to tell him were it was. It wasn’t everyday their town got on the News and they were willing to share in their new found fame.

Raddifer followed the directions until he came upon a gravel road with a mail box indicating a Jake Myers lived there.

This is the place, Raddifer said.

I hope he doesn’t have a shot gun or something for someone that trespasses.

Just get ready to run.

Raddifer parked the car in front of an old house. It had the appearance of a house you’d expect to find in the end of a long gravel road… old, with a front porch, and a screen door with a hole in it.

Raddifer knocked on the door and waited. After awhile, a balding man in his sixties, wearing old jean coveralls and a faded t-shirt, came up to the screen and stared for a moment.

Yeah, what do you want?

Mister Myers? Raddifer asked.

That’s right.

"My name is William Raddifer and this is Mary Watson.

I was wondering if I could ask you about the fire you had on your property."

Myers opened the door and glared at Raddifer. Are you a reporter?

No, sir, I’m a writer.

A what?

I write books.

Oh. Myers relaxed a bit. What do you want to know about it?

Did you see it?

Not really, not when it happened, anyway. The goddamn fire engines woke me from a sound sleep, though, with their damn noisy trucks, and loud talking. They scared my dogs.

Where was it exactly? Raddifer asked.

Myers pointed. Right over the rise, down the slope… black as coal, really pretty, actually, in an ugly way.

So you have seen it.

Of course, I know everything that happens on my property.

What do you think caused it? Raddifer looked for a possible reaction, but got none.

Don’t have the slightest idea.

Can I take a look at it?

What for?

I might write a book about it.

About a stupid fire?

Myers was turning out to be a stubborn jackass and Raddifer would have to use a different approach.

"It’s kind of a collection of stories, like a Believe it or Not. I usually put the name of the people I interview in the book.

Oh yeah? Myers’ face lit up. Will my name be in it?

Oh sure… pictures and all…

Come on, Myers said. Let me get my keys to my truck. I’ll show you myself. It’s a four wheel drive and no goddamn mud it going to stop it.

They got into the pickup and headed up the rise, weaving through a grove of oak trees, slipping and sliding until they reached the crest. As the nose of the truck pointed down, Raddifer could see the burned circle. It appeared like a black beacon, taking up at least half of the meadow.

There it is, Myers said. Kind of pretty, isn’t it?

Somehow it didn’t seem pretty to Raddifer. That wasn’t the word he would use. It was more like shocking, shocking, because it was so perfectly round, almost like it had been done by a compass, drawn by an engineer with a strange sense of humor who happened to be a pyromaniac.

Myers stopped the truck and Raddifer got out cautiously and stood on the outside edge of the burned area. Myers came around and tapped him on the shoulder. Step inside.

Raddifer turned and looked at him and smiled weakly.

Okay.

Myers rushed by him and dropped to one knee. Look at this. Step inside, Mister Raddifer. It won’t bite you. Look, seedlings… Can you beat that, damned seedlings.

Raddifer knelt by him and pulled up one of the seedlings. What are they, weeds?

Tree seedlings looks like, all different kinds… euc, oak, birch, you name it.

But how could they be growing, the fire and all…

Don’t know.

But that’s impossible… Raddifer trailed off.

Are you okay, young feller?

Raddifer came back. Oh, yeah, sure, I’m fine.

Listen, make sure you get my name right, Jake Myers… named after my uncle. I don’t know why. He was a rascal.

Raddifer began walking back to the truck and got in. Myers was puzzled, but followed him back to the truck.

Giving up so soon?

Too wet, Raddifer said absently.

When they arrived back at the house, Raddifer got out of the truck. Raddifer peered into the truck open window. Thanks for the tour. It was very interesting. Yes, very interesting.

That’s it? Aren’t you gonna ask me anymore questions?

Oh, sure, I’ll be back tomorrow. Maybe it’ll stop raining by then.

Raddifer was quiet as they drove back to the hotel. He leaned over and opened the glove compartment. A half pint slipped out. He opened it and took a quick swig.

Jesus, William, you’ve got that shit everywhere. What if the cops catch you?

The world is strange, you know that?

Tell me about it. And you’re the strangest they come.

You know, I’ve written a lot of books where I’ve had to make up a lot, you know, exaggerate.

Wow, like that’s news.

No, I’m serious. What if I didn’t have to do that anymore?

You mean tell the truth?

Yeah, something like that…

And where are you going to find a story like that?

Back there, back there at the Demon Circle.

Do me a favor, don’t bullshit me.

You realize there were seedlings growing in the burned area?

So?

So? So, there shouldn’t be anything growing there, for Christ shakes. The fire should have burned everything!

Okay, Mary said, trying to understand. So what if they’re growing? What difference does that make?

Don’t you see, Raddifer said, squirming around in his seat. The Demon Circle sprouted a prolific growth of trees that grew quickly in to a dense wooded area. That place back there has tree seedling already growing just in one day. Don’t you see?

Mary began laughing. Oh, William, you’re so funny.

Raddifer’s face became red with anger. There is something happening there and it isn’t my fucking imagination!

Mary padded him on the leg. Look, William, you tell the story anyway you want and I’ll type it.

Okay, don’t fucking believe me, but there’s something going on back there and it’s starting to give me a weird feeling.

Chapter 3

The next morning Raddifer lazily opened his eyes and promptly shut them again. He hated the morning sun, especially when it glared through his bedroom window.

He should have taken Mary’s example and gone to bed early, instead of spending money on a flashy blonde who gave him every indication they would end up in bed together. They probably would have if she hadn’t drank so much that she threw up all over the ladies room and had to be carried to her bedroom by two security guards.

On the way back to Myers’ house, Raddifer thought about the fire and decided he might have jumped to conclusions, had been too rash. Perhaps his assessment had come from wishful thinking and his willingness to believe something that wasn’t there.

So when he arrived at Myers’ house he decided to display a more controlled attitude and not let anything sway him from what he was there for.

Raddifer knocked on the front door and waited. After a few moments he heard Myers’ shuffling toward the door.

Myers opened the door. What time is it?

Eleven. Mary said.

That late? I never sleep that late… couldn’t sleep last night. Damn dogs of mine were barking and whining all night. I finally had to bring them into the house. They just crawled under the kitchen table and shivered. Come in and have some coffee. I don’t like to stand at the door talking.

Myers put coffee on and set a plate of sweet rolls on the table. Mary took one and was immediately reminded by Raddifer that her hips were getting noticeably bigger and she ought to watch what she ate. She looked at Raddifer straight in the eyes and took a big bite, daring him to say anything else.

Yeah, those dogs sure acted funny last night. I was feeling a little funny myself. Myers laughed nervously, took a quick drink of coffee and then acted as a small child being caught stealing from the cookie jar.

Funny? Raddifer asked.

Scared, uneasy… hell, I don’t know.

Do you mind if I take pictures of the fire later? Raddifer asked.

What are you going to call your book?

I haven’t decided yet.

Gonna have pictures of me?

Sure.

Myers smiled shyly and stood up. Well, if I’m going to have my pictures taken I better comb my hair. I’ll be back in a few minutes.

I think you have him eating out of your hand, Mary said after Myers left the room.

Raddifer opened his hand and looked at it. And I don’t care if he slobbers all over it either.

A few minutes later Myers came back with his hair slickly combed, shaved, and smelling of Brut after shave.

Myers and Raddifer drove up the rise again, slipping occasionally on the muddy ground, barely missing old, twisted oak trees. As they reached the top, the truck slipped again, but, eventually, trudged over the crest and slid sideways down the slope. There, the fire lay waiting, no longer black with carbon, but vivid with different shades of green, swaying like a field of tall wheat in the wind. The seedlings were at least a foot high.

The truck stopped a few yards from the circle. Raddifer got out slowly. He felt he was moving in slow-motion, not in a real situation, but more like a make-believe Hollywood set created by a special-effects man who would appear any moment and reveal the hoax. He tried to think of a rational explanation, but couldn’t at the moment, and somehow didn’t want to think about it, because if he did he wouldn’t like the answer.

Raddifer removed the camera from around his neck and began taking pictures. Myers timidly followed him around until he tapped him on the back.

Ready to take my picture?

Oh, sure, stand right there, right in front of the seedlings.

Is this good? Myers posed awkwardly, oblivious of what was going on around him. Each pose was the same as the one before. It’ll be kind of exciting to see myself in your book when it comes out.

Raddifer smiled weakly as he felt a coming fear of something he didn’t understand, of something condemning him for standing on ground no longer belonging to the earth, but perhaps to a world where darkness reigned and the Devil was king.

That night Jake Myers couldn’t sleep. He felt uneasy. His dogs had begun barking earlier in the evening and he had brought them in the house to quiet them. They lay by his bed and whimpered.

Myers read the newspaper as his dog Prince opened his eyes and looked at him thankfully. Damn dogs, Myers thought, they never had given him any trouble before. Now they were acting like scared rabbits.

What are you afraid of, boy? The dog just wagged his tail and stared at Myers. Gonna keep it a secret, huh? All right, see if I care.

Suddenly, Prince perked his head as if aware of something. The other dog Blueberry also became alert. Their fur rose on the back of their necks and both dogs let out a mournful howl, cocking their heads back and letting it flow out.

Myers sat straight and placed his hands flat on the bed, ready to spring up. He slid his legs off the bed and slowly stood up. He rubbed the dog’s heads and they stopped howling for a moment. Myers listened. Something was outside. He could hear heavy foot steps circling the house. He went to his closet, got his shotgun, and turned out the light. He looked out the window. Nothing… The footsteps were now on the other side of the house. He resisted the temptation to leave his bedroom. If he wandered through house, he’d be more open to anyone trying to get in.

The heavy footsteps approached the bedroom window again. Now he could get a look at the intruder. As the footsteps passed, he peered out the window. Nothing… He ducked back and froze against the wall. What the hell was going on? The perspiration beaded on his forehead. Then the dogs began howling again. Myers stood in the dark, clutching the shotgun, trying to drown the dogs’ howling from his mind.

Again the steps approached the window and then stopped. Myers didn’t move. He froze. Myers heard heavy, laborious breathing, like the breathing of a large animal, deep, nearly a growl. What ever it was, it seemed to know Myers’ location. Myers let the darkness swarm around him, engulf him it its depth, yet, knowing he had to look, see what was taunting him. He turned slowly and faced the window. He drew back in horror and crashed against the wall.

What did he say? Mary asked Raddifer as they drove out of the Hyatt’s garage.

I don’t know, but he was scared.

Are you, William?

Raddifer didn’t answer. He had no answer for what was happening, and he wasn’t going to try.

When they arrived at Myers’ house, he greeted them like long, lost friends. He thanked them for coming. He poured coffee for them in the kitchen and set out a dish of pastry.

What happened? Raddifer asked after awhile.

Myers laughed nervously. Well, it was the damnedest thing. I heard footsteps outside and the dogs were scared… I looked out the window and I saw… I can’t explain it…

Why don’t you try? Raddifer said calmly.

It was like something was there, but wasn’t…

What do you mean?

It was big, big as a horse, but it stood on its hind legs. And the face was grotesque and it was…

Yes?

It was grinning at me… laughing. Myers’ voice cracked.