Strange Harvest

By Sid MacKinnon

In a small community hidden back in the woods, swamp and marsh land, is three-hundred-acre farm.

John and Beth Averley are the proud owners of this quiet and laid-back retreat they call home in Ontario, Canada.

You see, life in the city for John and Beth was downright depressing, overrated, and as far as they were concerned, no place to bring up a family. They were looking for a tranquil place to build a solid foundation, that they could call home and would not crumble, like their lives were about to do if they were to stay in the city any longer.

Finding the perfect place was relentless day after day, until one day right in front of them, their dream had come true, time and patience had finely paid off .

John would always say Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. Theres a problem with that saying, and it would alter the Averleys lives forever.

All things are truly beautiful in their way, but sometimes beauty can deceive the beholder.

Therefore, whatever you sow, isnt always what you will reap.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 20, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514457290

Book preview

Copyright © 2016 by Sid MacKinnon.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/16/2016

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1 - Strange Reality -

Chapter 2 - Confined -

Chapter 3 - Disbelievers -

Chapter 4 - Creepstate -

Chapter 5 - The Wraith -

Chapter 6 - Visitation -

Chapter 7 - Cold Storage -

Chapter 8 - No One Listens -

Chapter 9 - Transformation -

Chapter 10 - Torn Apart -

Chapter 11 - Phantasm -

Chapter 12 - The Gathering -

Chapter 13 - The Dark One -

Chapter 14 - They Come -

Chapter 15 - Revelation -

Chapter 16 - Judgment -

Chapter 17 - The Black Robes -

Chapter 18 - The Great City -

Chapter 19 - The Wise Ones -

Chapter 20 - The New Order -

Listen to what you hear.

See what is there.

Be aware of shadows.

That linger everywhere.

You have lived in perilous times.

Yet you have no fear.

For all has been taken away.

As the shadows draw near.

The streets are quite, as the light goes dim.

Death walks among us.

And there are those that let it in.

WHATEVER YOU SOW,

SO SHALL YOU REAP

Dedicated to those who believe that if you look after the land,

the land will look after you.

THOU FOOL

Taunt me not, thou fool of fools, for your time draweth near.

You’ve played your haunting game, and filled my mind with fear.

Your voice it whispers, in the still of the night.

The sky you have darkened, to hide the pale moonlight.

Yet another walks among us, and takes away my fear.

Then I am comforted, for I know your time draweth near.

Taunt me not, thou fool of fools, for I know your foolish game.

Your pride it stands on high, yet there is no one left to blame.

One walks among us, which knows what you do.

So when the harvest comes, there will be no one left but you.

So taunt me not, thou fool of fools, for your time draweth near.

MY LAST MEMOIRS

T O WHOM SHALL find and read of these writings. I, John Averley, having what sanity I may have left, wish not what has happened to me to fall upon others. Yet there may be no choice in the matter.

I ask that you be very cautious at all times, and remember, you are not alone. For even now as you read, something lingers in the shadows just outside your window. Whether it be day or night, they will find you. You may think I am just saying that so as to scare you. If you think that, take a look for yourself, I’ll wait, but don’t let them see you or hear you breathing. You may think you are safe and secure in your dwelling. Don’t take your dwelling for granted. They see you no matter where you are, you cannot hide.

They know how to get at you when you least expect it. I, for one, didn’t expect to be in the predicament I was in either, finding there are things stranger than life itself. You, the reader, must be cautious and alert at all times. Page by page, if you dare, will reveal the last events and moments of my sanity. To open this book will mean you started a journey that you will have to finish. In your mind, I will try and be there and will walk with you. Even though you will feel you are in control, that will soon change as the shadows begin to close in on you. You will feel as I felt and see as I saw. While you are reading, you will hear sounds and see moving shadows, and you will surely wonder. Is it real, or is it my imagination?

There are some precautionary measures you may take. I don’t think they will work, but if it makes you feel better, I suggest you try them. Lock your doors and close whatever drapes your windows, for you wouldn’t want them to see you. They seem to know everything about you, even when you take your next breath. Listen to your thoughts, for it may be the only warning you may get. Your breathing will intensify, and your heart will pound. Is your mouth dry yet, finding it hard to swallow? Oh how they like that. This is when they know you are getting weak. This is when they know it won’t be long, and they will have you. Now you’re feeling what I felt. There are times when you will stop reading, and you’ll wonder about that noise you just heard. Fear will try to stalk you as your mind tries to focus on the sound you just heard. Then you will wonder. Was it all in your mind? The mind can play tricks on you, and they know that is in their favor, for now you are unsure and can’t trust your own instincts. Listen … Something is drawing close in the shadows, just outside your door, or is it really there? Strange how fear doesn’t have to wear a form, yet you know it is there. I, for one, never expected what would happen to me. I, like everyone else, brushed it off as my imagination. That was a mistake.

Remember, the choice is yours and yours alone. Oh, how I hate that word alone. By now, you’re intrigued, and like all human beings, curiosity will get the best of you. Don’t let me stop you from mind over matter. That’s exactly how I felt … in the beginning. I was just minding my own business, going through life free and easy, had hopes and dreams like everyone else, worked hard to get ahead only to take five steps forward and three steps back. Sounds familiar? Then it happened. They wouldn’t leave me alone. There’s that word again—alone. By now, you have made up your mind whether or not to proceed. I hope you made the right choice, one you won’t regret. Feeling comfortable and relaxed? Good. I’m glad. Now it is your turn to take my place.

John Averley

CHAPTER 1

- STRANGE REALITY -

I ’M WRITING THESE words down on paper, for I know not how much time I may have left or when it will all happen again. Looking back, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. My god, what went wrong? Hold on. I’ll be right back. I think it’s okay now. I had to check the window. The sun is going down, and it’s getting dark outside. The darkness, they like the darkness. Oh yes, they thrive on the dark. They wait until dark. Then they strike, and it will be all over.

Oh, by the way, my name is John Averley, and my wife’s name is … oh, never mind. It’s not important right now. As a matter of fact, the only thing that’s important now … is me.

Being in a very stressful position, I ask you to bear with me. I’ll feel much better if I know there’s someone out there. Where was I? Oh yes, I remember now. I was about to tell you where I live. Directions I can’t give you, but I can tell you it’s a three-hundred-acre farm in Ontario, Canada. Like I said, that’s all I can tell you, for I wouldn’t want you to come. You may not be able to leave. Of course, I’m not saying company wouldn’t be nice right now, for it sure as hell would be. It’s just safer if you don’t.

I’ve always loved farming, the peace and quiet—you know, a place where you can stretch your legs after a good day’s work, the type of place where anybody would be proud to raise a family.

Why, children could run free and never cover the same area twice. There’s nothing like walking in the morning to the fresh smell of country air. Watching the sunrise, that’s a pleasure unto itself.

You can see the sunbeams as they bounce off the trees, corn, pond, and land. Where there were once dark shadows, there is now brilliant sunlight.

Walking to the barn in the early morning is a pleasure for anyone to experience. The fragrance of the lilac bush fills the air and makes you feel it’s good to be alive. Entering the barn, it becomes alive with the sounds of animals waking to the morning. Barn swallows busily fly in and out of the barn gathering food for the day. Everything comes to life. The day seems to be in order. Or is it? Don’t worry. I’ll get around to what’s been happening.

Walking out of the barn, I can smell fresh bacon and eggs frying on the cook stove. Beth has the window open. There’s a breeze flowing across the fields. Your face feels cool as the breeze flows through your hair, and you know it’s going to be a nice day.

Beth and I haven’t farmed very long. We had to make a lot of adjustments, ask for help when we needed it, and sometimes even have some of the neighbors show us. We couldn’t stand the city life anymore. It was all too fast for our liking. Everyone had their own little top priorities. We were getting to the point where we ourselves were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Just a little farm talk. Trying to keep up with the Joneses was like trying to fight a fire with a water pistol.

City slickers and their two-bit "I don’t give a shit" attitudes. I’m sorry, but that’s the way I feel. We just couldn’t stand the peak of phony importance. Sometimes I think I’m just old-fashioned, and I have no problem living with that.

Now you take my used-to-be partner, pickled half the time, and always wanted to be the big shot. Why I got a partner in the first place, I’ll never know. We had a little computer business until my used-to-be partner spent all the profits. There was never a dull day with that pickle head wandering around like a fly, looking for sticky paper. Todd was always looking for the leprechaun and his pot of gold. God only knows. He couldn’t even find the rainbow if it was looking him straight in the face.

Why, when I told him I was dissolving the business, he took a fit and started throwing things around like a spoiled little brat. Todd hit the sauce pretty bad after that. His wife started to see a black belt in bone cracking, and Todd took a lesson in the fine art of falling down a lot. Todd finally ended up in the hospital with multiple fractures from his wife’s boyfriend, the bone cracker. I, on the other hand, put away as much money as I could when the computer business was still doing well. So when I speak of phony importance, this is one part that stands out the most.

People bug my ass to no end. I’ve got no problems with rocks and trees; it’s those damn people. They’ll get you every time. Peace and quiet, that’s what we needed in our lives. So we made the big move, probably one of the biggest we had taken in a while. There sure is a lot of breathing room, and we enjoy that.

No more bumping into the three-piece phony hypocrites trying to rob you blind for no reason at all. I’m sure glad of that. There are times when the silence is so golden that it becomes haunting. The night brings a new world, and your mind wanders into the darkness. Thoughts become more predominant, and as you look out over the landscape, you wonder what lies at the end of the bush line in the nocturnal night.

Eyes look out of the void as you look into the void. They shine as the night creatures roam with their stealth-like walk. I suppose there’s a beauty in all that has been said, yet the eeriness still lingers where your eyes are unable to see, and you become a victim of the night.

One has to experience true seclusion to really know what I’m referring to. Loneliness is when you become your own jailer, and you force yourself not to unlock the door of freedom. In the city, at times, there didn’t seem to be enough time to be alone. Now it’s at your fingertips whenever you want it.

Still, it’s a world unto its own. There’s a chance to slow down and catch up on life. It’s a time to reminisce about the past, present, and future. There seems to be more time to do those kinds of things. One thing about the farm is the animals. When you’ve had enough of them, you can put them out to pasture or sent them to the slaughterhouse. With people, it’s a different story. When you put them out to pasture, they keep coming back, and sending them to the slaughterhouse, well, that’s against the law. Acceptance of this way of life isn’t based on improving it. It’s going with what you already have and making the best of it.

Beth and I are rather lucky around here. Why, we can take long walks, enjoy nature at its best, sit by a pond, and just think of how peaceful it is. Of course, we may have a little company, but not like it was in the city. Bumping into a lot of people isn’t a problem like it was in the city either. When we are out for a walk, we may or may not bump into anyone.

You would have to see the place, especially in the summer and fall of the year. Pretty as a picture. Driving down those old country road takes some getting used to, but it is amazing how well you can adjust in a short time.

Some of the oldest swamplands are not too far from where we live and are protected by law. The wooded areas and their towering trees on both sides of the road give an eerie look when the sun shines through and casts shadows on the roadway.

The gravel roads are winding and hilly, and when it rains, the lower parts sometimes get washed out and disappear into the marshes. That can be a real experience if it’s your first time.

Now you take driving in the winter. That’s a different story altogether. Dangerous as hell. There are times when there’s only enough room for one truck or car. Now this becomes tricky, as one of you has to pull over, trying not to slide off into the swamp. Mind you, it’s happened many times, but not to me—yet.

Snowdrifts form rows of white hills that in a lot of cases weren’t there yesterday or even a few hours ago. Canadian winters can be harsh and bitter most of the time, but we seem to survive.

The city life held a different kind of bitterness, and as for being cold, it was all of that and more. Violence was a way of life for a lot of people. Racing fire trucks and screaming police cars, barking dogs, followed by domestic arguments always made good Friday night entertainment. Drug deals, suicides, and prostitution told us that the world was going to hell in a handbag.