The Stone Wall

A short story for Friday the Thirteenth

Trigger Warning — if you don’t like horror stories, perhaps you can skip this one, although I hope you stay. This story is about the haunted stone walls that wind through New England. Some estimate there are over 100,000 miles of walls that snake through the forests around here, and there are lots of strange stories passed down from generations about their origin. Happy Friday the Thirteenth and thanks for reading!

The Stone Wall

Lucas Shortfield shut his eyes and laughed, placing one foot over the other as he teetered on the stone wall. The ancient structure slithered like a garter snake past his grandma’s little town of Killmark, past the river and deep inside the Massachusetts State Forest. He held his breath.

“Open your eyes, you’ll fall and crack your head open, dummy.” Junie snickered, crossing her arms. “I’m gonna tell Grandma you’re up there and she’s gonna freak out.”

“And I’m gonna tell Grandma you smoke behind the house. Scaredy-cat.” Lucas yelled at her but Junie took off. He looked down at the path of rocks in front of him, squished flat like grey pancakes, and told himself he would just walk along the top a little longer so he could say he’d survived and all of Grandma’s stories about the haunted wall were a bunch of made up crap.

They were spending the summer at their grandmother’s cottage at the edge of the forest, getting some “fresh air and natural food” like their mom wanted. But Lucas knew the real reason – his mom and dad were getting a divorce and Mom was looking for a new apartment for them in the city. Grandma had a large garden behind her house and Lucas and Junie helped pull weeds and harvest tomatoes and green beans all summer. He’d had enough of tomatoes and green beans. He spat onto the stones and cursed, wishing for a Big Mac instead.

Lucas’ stomach gurgled. He walked on the top of the wall for a few more minutes, looking for low ground so he could hop off and run back to Grandma’s for supper. The longer he walked, the higher up off the ground the stone wall seemed to go. His heart raced and he thought of his Grandma’s words. She had warned him about the souls of cursed ghosts from colonial times trapped in these stones, begging to be let out. “You never answer if you hear your name called, understand? Run away and don’t look back. And don’t look for trouble cause it’ll find you real fast ‘round here.”

Lucas didn’t believe any of it. “Grandma’s one nut short of a pecan pie,” Mom always said.

He kept walking and the forest fell into a sudden trance. The ravens and grasshoppers stopped their cawing and chirping and Lucas felt a chill crawl up his neck. A black fly dive bombed into his forehead and he swatted it away. Then he heard it – a wail coming from the distance. Or was it close by? Lucas looked left and right and couldn’t see anything from the darkness of the trees blocking the setting sun. There it was again, a sad voice deep in the forest. He froze. Was it calling his name? He was about to turn around and speed walk over the stones and noticed his shoelace was untied. Damn. He bent down and clouds of grey fog rose up from the ground, swirling around his ankles, and curling over his body. The plumes hugged his face and he couldn’t see. He panicked. An icy breeze blew through his hair and forced the gooseflesh to rise on his bare arms. Lucas could make out an outline in the fog. The silhouette floated closer, and he tried not to cry. “Who’s there?”

“You’ve found me,” a voice hissed. “Let me out of these stones.”

Lucas blinked, processing the being standing in front of him. The image of a young, freckled-faced girl, her hair up in an old fashioned bun, emerged from the cloud. She smiled and her skin fell off, revealing a white skull with two black holes. Lucas screamed. A skeletal hand clamped his mouth shut and the skull pressed its zygomatic bones to his cheek. “We are now one, forever.” Lucas fell from the stone wall like a rag doll, crumpling into the vast black mouth of the forest.

***

As the sun shines low behind the trees, the camera pans to a young woman dressed in a Goth t-shirt and jeans, her pink hair clipped in a black hair claw. Her dark lipstick glistens on her plump lips, and her lash extensions flutter. “This is – okay, wait, I wasn’t ready. Hang on.” She lowers her fuzzy microphone and clears her throat. A short man stands next to her holding a hand-held EV Ghost Box outfitted with dials and buttons.

Jayce, Samantha’s boyfriend, counts down 3-2-1 and gives her the signal.

“Hey guys, it’s Spooky Samantha, your favourite Youtuber. It’s Friday the thirteenth, and I’m at a very spooky stone wall here in Killmark, Massachusetts with Tony Sergeant of Sergeant Paranormal Investigations. A little later on, Tony’s going to use his Ghost Box to determine if this place is haunted.” Tony looks into the camera and nods.

“But first, some background – the little town of Killmark carries a dark secret in these stone walls. Many people have reportedly vanished here, including the famous case of 11-year-old Lucas Shortfield who disappeared while exploring the forest back in 1977. He was never found.” The evening breeze carries a distant wail and Samantha turns her head. “What was that?” She giggles and continues on.

“So, Tony, you’ve done some investigation of this area before, what exactly is going on?” She points the fuzzy microphone at Tony’s lips. He starts to choke as a fly buzzes into his mouth. He coughs and bends over, gripping the Ghost Box in his hands. Samantha pulls out a bottle of water from her backpack and hands it to him.

He takes a huge gulp. “Sorry. Thank you. Whew, something doesn’t want me to talk.” They both laugh nervously and Samantha’s microphone trembles.

“Okay you’ve done some paranormal investigations of this area, what have you found?” Samantha points the fuzzy microphone back at Tony’s face.

“Well, I don’t know if you’re familiar with Killmark, but it’s actually an ancient spot here in Massachusetts, lots of folklore and unusual history surrounding this place. I think this area is some kind of portal, a gateway to another realm.”

“Oooh, that sounds mysterious. Okay, and you say there’s a lot of dark lore here, can you tell us a little bit about that.”

“Sure. Well, this wall is entirely made of stones, dry stacked by Irish settlers back in the eighteenth century. The walls go on for miles and miles, built for marking property lines. The old settlers used to tell stories about the stones – they believed the rocks were cursed, straight from the devil.” Samantha nods her head, her eyes wide.

“And then you’ve got the locals reporting some strange goings on – weird lights floating above the walls, strange sounds and of course, the disappearances. They say thirteen people have disappeared in this area going back to the 19th century.”

“That’s wild. And you said there’s a portal here?”

Tony looks into the camera and his voice quivers. “Well the rocks have witnessed lots of trauma from past wars and crop failures and such. Some say souls from way back when have become trapped and their signatures are recorded in these stones, which is why there’s a lot of paranormal activity here. I’ve recorded some interesting audio responses with the Ghost Box near the wall.”

A fly dive bombs Samantha’s forehead and she swats at it. “Ack. Now, the flies are after me.” She half laughs, gritting her teeth.

Tony doesn’t flinch. “And then, it’s possible all these missing persons have disappeared through a portal. People say they’ve seen weird fog and unusual happenings with nature.”

The camera pans to the stones and Jayce comes closer to capture the detail of the rocks stacked into the wall. He pans back and Tony and Samantha fill the frame again. Jayce notices Tony’s eye.

“Hey, what’s wrong with your eye, man?”

“My eye?” Tony chuckles. His left eye is huge and drooping past his nose. Samantha gasps and backs away.

“What the hell…” Jayce turns the camera away and it points it to the ground. “Are you okay? Should we call 911?”

“I’m fine, really. Damn allergies.” Tony wipes his eye with the back of his hand and smiles. A fly crawls on his lips. Samantha signals with her hand and Jayce starts recording again.

“So, I’m just going to turn the Ghost Box on and see if I can get a reading.” Tony fiddles with the dials and Samantha stands back. A low wail escapes from the box and Tony almost drops it.

Static comes through. “You’ve found me.” A voice crackles from the Ghost Box and Samantha turns to the camera, bugging out her eyes at Jayce. The voice comes in again. “It’s Lucas. Help me.” She covers her mouth and tries to listen for more.

“Let me out.” The Ghost Box crackles and Tony violently turns the dials. A stream of static escapes, and then a few words fade in and out. “Sama…Sama”

Samantha clutches at her shirt and her face turns pale. She stares at the Ghost Box. “What’s it saying?” She half whispers at Tony.

“That’s enough, this is messed up.” Jayce’s tone is angry and he lowers the camera.

Samantha glares at him. “No, we’ve come this far. Don’t stop recording.” Her eyes are huge and she turns to the Ghost Box. Her breathing’s fast. “What do you want?”

“Samantha.” The voice is crying and pleading and loud static booms from the box. Tony jumps back and the instrument crashes to the ground. He looks at her and smiles, his teeth yellow and sharp against his black mouth.

Samantha gasps for breath. She sees fog curling up over her legs. “What’s that?” Grey plumes wrap around her body and she screams. A boy’s face emerges from the haze and then morphs into a skull as it comes into focus. The black eye holes hypnotize her, sucking her in. A bony hand breaks free from the fog and grabs her hair. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Jayce yells and the video turns to grey snow.

*****

Thanks so much for reading! And thank you to all who’ve ordered my new sci-fi short story collection, An Orb Over The Strawberry Moon. It’s now available on Amazon in e-book and paperback formats. You can order from my website:

An Orb Over The Strawberry Moon