"Beyond The Grave"
original story by Alice Knutson
all rights reserved - copy righted
In the last days of the Civil War, a small broken hearted group of confederate soldiers, half starved, wearing worn torn uniforms sat around their small campfire contemplating surrender. A scream came from behind them; a scream not from this world , but from BEYOND. Their hair felt as if it was crawling it's way up the nap of their necks, their hands shook and their knees became to weak to stand and run away on. One by one each turned around and saw nothing, except pine trees and kudzu vines gently swaying in the cold October wind, until one brave soul found the courage to stand and search out the sound. Sgt.. Dale was the only man with the courage to walk forward into the night, beyond the camp fire. Although the moon was at it's fullest that night, so long ago, the clouds covered most of it. Shadows danced all around the camp, each growing longer as the moon began to set lower in the dark sky. There at the edge of the woods stood a large man dressed in a uniform, but whose uniform? Did this soul belong to the North or the South? Each soldier was armed and ready to fire, if need be, their energy had been renewed at the prospect of another fight. Their fear of the unknown was now gone, after all this was no beast, this was a man or was it? The dark surroundings of the night lit up by the flash of a bright light. The rumble of what sounded like cannons echoed through the branches, bringing with it a hard cold rain instead of a cannon ball; it was the type of cold rain that made even the healthiest of bones ache. A second flash of light directly behind the stranger caused him to turn his back toward the others, to search where the sound was coming from. At that same split moment in time the others could now see the stranger was wearing a Confederate uniform. Their comrade in arms turned back slowly only this time his face was no longer in the shadows of the trees. HIS FACE!....HIS FACE!... His eyes glowed red, the skin that hung partly off his face was blackened like burned hides. How could such a soul be alive still with such burns? And his eyes, what was wrong with his eyes? Another flash and the strange looking soldier was gone, VANISHED BEFORE EVERYONE'S EYES. Torches were made and used to search the area around where the stranger stood. The group of soldiers found no sign of any living soul; no footprints, nor trails to follow. No one spoke of the soldier, no one spoke at all the rest of that night. It was as if they were all afraid, but afraid of what? After all this was just another wounded soldier or was he? This was no ordinary man, this was something BEYOND THE GRAVE.........................
The night went very slowly, most of the men sat quietly around the campfires. As daylight approached Sgt.. Dale ordered his men up, it was time to pack and move on. No one spoke, each quickly and quietly started to pack their gear and saddled their horses. No one in the group wanted to stay any longer than necessary in a place where the dead prowled. Just as the sun broke between the clouds that sat low on the horizon, overlooking the other side of the river, a long slow moaning was heard. A sound no mortal human should ever have to hear.........
Sgt.. Dale did not have to order his men to finish and mount their horses, most had done so on their own. The group of soldiers road West without looking back and did not stop until the sun was high overhead. As the horses rested the men sat quietly until Sgt.. Dale spoke up.
"Alright men, we all heard it this morning and we all saw it last night. It's not going away just because no one will talk about it."
"No sir! It want go away, that's the problem." Slim Jones spoke up.
Slim was a self proclaimed preacher with very little education except the little bit he learned sitting at his grandpa's knees.
"What do you mean Slim?" Sgt. Dale asked.
"Well...you see sir my Grandpa done tole me about it when I was just a young' en. It's called a Wannabe." Slim explained.
"A what?" Sgt.. Dale continued to question Slim, "What are you talking about?"
"A Wannabe sir!" Slim went on to explain to Sgt. Dale and the others just exactly what his grandpa had told him.
Slim's grandpa was a very religious man but he was also very superstitious at times. He told Slim that a Wannabe was a demon that wanted to be a real man. This demon was cursed to always walk the earth without rest, that is why he moans and cries. When death is near the marshes and swamps he has a chance to easily steal a dying man's soul, as soon as leaves the man's body. All the beast has to do is wait until the man's last breath, to suck the soul's life. The Wannabe's skin is burned from the eternal fires of Hell and you can see the depths of Hell from it's eyes, if he looks you straight in the face. The only way he can steal a living man's soul is by facing him as the lightning strikes over the man's head and looking him straight in the eyes. Slim went on to explain that they were lucky last night, the Wannabe could not cross a flowing river or stream of water during a full moon; but they would have to be extra careful from now on, the Wannabe knew their faces and their fears and would wait for them just in the distant, until another storm approached. Sgt. Dale ordered Slim to stop speaking of such nonsense, it was making an already nervous group of soldiers trigger happy and someone was bound to get hurt. Slim said he wouldn't speak of it again.
That night after making camp Sgt. Dale bedded down early which gave several men in the group a chance to quietly question Slim about the Wannabe. Slim kept his promise to Sgt.. Dale and refused to speak of it again, however Slim did say there was another in the group that knew the story because he had seen the Wannabe himself, Slim nodded over toward the cook wagon. Old man Dirk Bikken stood smoking his pipe beside the cook wagon, when he heard what Slim had said he quickly told Slim to shut his face. Later that night several of the soldiers persuaded the old man to tell them his story. It went like this.......
"I was about eight years or so,I guess, when I first heared about the Wannabe. My old Granny tol' me and my five brothers and sisters the story late one night, of course I didn't believe it none. I thought my old Granny was just telling us kids a tall tale to shut us kids up, so's we would all lay still and go to sleep. But I learned the hard way that there story was as real as you and I are sitting here tonight." The old man had each soldier spellbound, their ears were glued on every word the old man said. "Yep, I learned the hard way all rightie. I went trapping down in the bayou with my Pa and Grandpa one morning only this here storm popped up and a cold hard rain came down in buckets, so we had to make camp extra early that day. My old Grandpa got really wet and caught a fierce chill; why by dark his fever was so high he didn't recognize me nor my Pa. My Pa told me I would have to help him, he needed to go collect some roots for a tea and poultice for the old man and I would have to stand guard while he was gone and what ever I did not to fall asleep. I sat at the head of my Grandpa keeping watch with my loaded rifle in my arms. My Pa was gone for hours it seemed and my back was starting to give out so I sort of leaned against an old cypress stump that was behind me. I must have fallen asleep cause the next thing I knowed was I heard a gun shot and then I was looking into the face of the devil himself. I still get nightmares when I think about it." The old man's body shivered at the memory. "It's face was burned half off with the skull partly showing and those eyes were shiny blood red. He smelled like rotten flesh and burned hair. When he looked into my eyes it was if I saw fire sparking up in those devil eyes of his and when his mouth opened he let loose a blood curdling cry so loud I couldn't hear good for days afterwards. My Pa came running up from behind me firing his rifle and yelling out, "Sweet Jesus save us all from the pits of Hell." That there devil turned and ran off then into the swamp. Pa stopped and leaned over the old man to see if he was still breathing, which he was. My Pa then took his razor strap to my back side and told me the old man deserved to rest in peace when he left us and I should have stayed awake like I was told to. Later that night after Grandpa's fever broke my Pa explained why he was so made at me earlier. He said if the Wannabe had taken the soul of Grandpa he would have had to walk the earth for eternity in that rotten pain filled burned body always searching until it found another fresh soul to feed upon."
The soldiers that had asked the old man about the story now wanted to know how to protect themselves against the Wannabe. Old man Bikken said the Wannabe would usually leave healthy men alone unless it was getting close to their time to die, or if there was a storm close enough by for a lighting strike over the their head to release the soul to the Wannabe. Sgt.. Dale walked up to the campfire just then and ordered everyone to bed down; their orders for the next morning was to take over a brigade of Union soldiers before dark that was expected to come through a small pass that was about fifteen miles on the other side of the river. This announcement made everyone very uneasy especially with the sound of distant thunder coming from the direction of the pass where another fight would take place; a place where the Wannabe would surely be waiting for their souls.
The light of day broke between the pines, campfires were extinguished and horses were saddled and made ready. Everyone's nerves were on edge. Sgt.. Dale tried to keep a cool head but even he knew many of his men would probably die that day, perhaps he would even die. The thought of being killed was always in the back of his mind since the war began but this time it was different, this time it was all too real to him. Clouds rolled by and a cold rain set in. Ordinarily capturing the Union Soldiers in such a narrow pass would be easy but not today; the Union Soldiers had sent an Indian scout up ahead so they knew what to expect before entering the narrow blinding trail in the pass. The scout reported back that a group of Confederate solider's were headed their way and would probably be waiting for them in the pass before they could reach it. The Union Officers quickly changed their plans. A small group of Union Soldiers would use the pass as planned for the wagons and horses, they had no choice, but the others went on foot over the rocky terrain that lined the swamp beds. Before the Confederate Soldiers could attack the Union wagons they were attacked by Union foot soldiers. Only the young Union officers and soldiers could not out fight the rugged seasoned mountain men in the Confederate group. The Union would be defeated in the end. The fight was a bloody one. Out from the side then came the loud piercing cry of the Wannabe that could be heard for miles even over the sound of the one single thunder clap that followed the bright flash of lighting over head. When it was all over Sgt. Dale's nearly lifeless body was found, his eyes were wide open and a look of terror on his face. It was only a matter of time before his death. He was in a deep lifeless coma. Lying next to Sgt. Dale was the dead body of a Union officer. Beside them in the soft muddy clay were goat tracks although there were no goats to be found for several miles. The tracks were leading deep into the swamp where a human like figure stood half burned crying out in pain. a man that no longer belonged to this world but the world BEYOND.....
The camp was exceptionally quiet that night. Sgt.. Dale's broken body had been wrapped in a blanket and laid under a large old oak so he could peacefully die in his sleep. Orders or no orders the soldiers had, had enough of that devilish place and the Wannabe. Exhaustion finally gave in to sleep for everyone, even the ones on guard duty; however round about three o'clock that morning or what some old timers called, "The Soul's Midnight". It wasn't long before the dead silence ended with a loud crashes of thunder as lightning popped overhead, then a terrifying scream, a scream like no living human could make. Everyone woke and grabbed their weapons and immediately scattered in search of the sound. Then Slim began to yell, "I told you, I told you all, the Wannabe would find us!" Slim stood next to the empty blanket that had been wrapped around Sgt. Dale. "I told you he would find us. Now he has another one, looky here." Slim pointed down to the empty blanket. One of the other soldiers slowly approached the blanket, leaned down and pulled it up off the ground. A rattler was coiled up under the blanket and was ready to strike, only Slim fired his rifle killing the snake. "That's his way of letting us' en know he ain' through with us yet." Slim exclaimed, "He is just waiting for the next chance to take another live one."
One of the other soldiers walked up and admitted he had seen the Wannabe when he was a child, it had come into his and his Pappy's campsite one night and drug his Pappy off into the swamp where he heard his Pappy screaming in pain as the Wannabe stole his immortal soul. "You said you never heared of the Wannabe when I done told everyone about it that first day." Slim was angry, the man had kept such information to himself because no one had wanted to believe him or old man Bikken when they told everyone the story.
"I was afraid to tell anyone about it then," The soldier said, "but now everyone had to know the Wannabe is not going to stop, not now that it's been fed."
"What do you mean been fed?" Corporal Price now stood beside Slim and demanded more answers, what did the three men know about the Wannabe they were not telling?
"The Wannabe doesn't just steal people's souls it will also feed off of the corpses, but sometimes it will enter the bodies in order to gain access to man others later." Said the soldier as his body began to shake from fear.
Does anyone else have information on this creature they've been keeping secret?" Corporal Price demanded. No one else came forward when asked. Corporal Price did not have to remind anyone on guard duty to stay awake the rest of the night, no one went back to sleep, in fact everyone began packing up to leave at first light. No one dared close their eyes the rest of the night, not while the Wannabe was so close to the camp. Dawn rose slowly that next morning, everyone was anxious to leave and get back home. But getting back home would not make them safe, the Wannabe knew their scents and would eventually find each one of them and would not leave their small little community. The Wannabe knew one day these men or one of their descendants would put an end to it's rein of terror unless he put an end to them first. ...........NEW FOR 2004 The year was 2004 and Allen Dale, history professor and paranormal researcher, was preparing to sort of travel back in time with the help of a small group of students that would accompany him. Back to the small little town that is said to be haunted by a mythical creature called a Wannabe. Unknown to Allen at the time was the fact that his great grandfather was not only an eye witness to such a creature but also a victim, while in the Confederate Army.
It was a small little town that had not grown much larger since the Civil War era. Many of the original homes still stood although most of the old families had long been gone except for two or three which still lived in the old family homesteads, only those families refused to meet with Allen or any one from his group to discuss the Wannabe creature. But deep in the back woods, next to the river swamp, lived an old man that many said was well over 100 years old and liked to tell tales about his grandpa, a man named Slim Jones, that served with the local Confederate militia and claimed to have seen the start of the haunting nightmare the little town
would come to fear.
Allen and his research group, that consisted of two female students and three male students, was able to get permission to set up camp just outside of town, behind the old saw mill. The saw mill was once the largest mill in that part of the county until the creature came into the sleepy little town right after the end of the Civil War. Their first plan was for the group to start at the historical society and then the city court house records room, followed by the local library; there they would decide how to split the group. They wanted to get as much local research as possible before heading deeper into the woods to speak to an old man that lives there.
The research was looking up, the court house had many of the old records that listed the families that lived there during the Civil War. Allen knew his family was originally from the town at least until he moved in with his Aunt. While researching Allen accidentally discovered his Great Grandpa was the Sgt. in the same group of soldiers as old man Jones' father. Perhaps the old man could tell him once and for all how his great grandpa really died and why his grandmother refused to discuss it with him each time he would ask. Perhaps the old man could also explain why so many people come up missing like his parents from the little sleepy town every twelve years. The local law enforcement couldn't explain any of the disappearances , the bodies were never found; but then again it had been happening since the Civil War; since the Wannabe legend started. A legend that would not die....
New for 2005
Old man Jones was dirt poor, his house was more of a shed than a home. The property where the house was built was between two small creek beds and a swamp marsh was on each side. If the house had not been built on the highest section it would have been under water when spring and summer rains came. The narrowest creek bed in front had a homemade dam built at one end so only a small trickle of water could pass, otherwise the creek would not have been possible to cross on foot. It consisted of two rooms, the large front room's only furnishings was an old pine rocker, a small round dining table that appeared to have been carved out of a very large pine stump and two handmade stools for sitting. In the middle of the table sat an oil hurricane lantern and a battered open bible. The fireplace was made out of local stone and was made not just for heating but also cooking; A loaded shot gun was hung above it. An antique hand pump sat on the edge of another small table next to the edge of an old porcelain sink. Beneath the sink was two deep shelves that held a large cast iron skillet and two small stew pots, a box of laundry detergent and one bar of soap. Above the table hung a small cupboard that held a few dishes and cups, one cup held a few utensils for eating and cooking with. Along side of the dishes sat a bag of flour, a few canned goods, a box of salt and a can of pepper. The next shelf of the cupboard held a few personal items, an empty picture frame and a few folded towels and wash clothes and a large galvanized washtub that hung on the back door of the largest room. The smaller room held only a small lumpy twin bed covered with a couple of faded and patched handmade scrap quilts. In one corner of the room stood a very old chiffrobe with a broken mirror. His bathroom consisted of an outhouse that sat about thirty feet from the back door. Allen and the other researchers were appalled that another human being had to live under such primitive conditions in the 21 st. century; until they got to know the old man and realized he preferred to live that way and had no intentions on changing.
Old man Jones, like his grandfather and father, was a self proclaimed preacher. As he explained, "I don't take store to fancy city folk ways or worldly goods. I don't cotton none neither to folks that try to change me either. I believe the almighty gives me all I need in this here world. If you folks are them there government folks that keep trying to make me move your wasting your time. I ain' a budging. Besides, even if I wanted to I couldn't live on the dry side."
"No sir! Were not from the government and we have no intentions of making you move." Allen explained to the old man who they were and where they were from. He also explained why they needed to ask him some very important questions, questions that Allen was realizing since coming to the town was possibly the most important questions in his life to get answered.
Old man Jones was reluctant at first to talk but after Allen's coaxing he finally opened up and told them what his Pa told him about the Wannabe and what he knew about the missing residents. The old man's father, Slim Jones, was in the local Confederate militia that eventually joined up with a larger group of soldiers. Later the group divided into two smaller groups, Slim Jones with a few others from his town ended up under Allen's great grandpa, Sgt. Dale's command. The old man went on to explain how his Pa's group came against the Wannabe and how Sgt. Dale was killed. He said his Pa would never explain how or why Sgt. Dale's body disappeared that last night in camp. He did say the soldiers eventually came home after the war, about three weeks after that last fight, when Sgt. Dale died; He even went on to say none of the men were never just right in the head after they came back. " Yep, they were touched for sure, couple of them blew their brains out, even my Pa would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. He eventually even had to be put in a crazy hospital before he died."
Allen questioned the old man on the missing residents of the last twelve years. "I understand from the stories we've heard and from looking at the old records every twelve years or so at least two or more people just up and disappear locally. Can you explain what happened to any of them?"
"It's the Hell demon! Some people call it the Wannabe; It's a demon right straight from the fiery pits of Hell sent here to punish those that got to proud and uppity." The old man stopped talking long enough to take a big dip of snuff. " He don't bother me none. Nope! I don't live that way and neither did my folks. This here place belonged to my Pa, he built it after he come back from that war. My Ma, she ran off with a city man about a year and a half after my Pa came back; She just couldn't take his craziness any longer, I guess. I stayed here in this here cabin until I went to war myself." The old man spit, he tried to ring the fireplace only he missed his aim, leaving a splatter on the floor and a brown drool at the corners of his mouth. "
"What war was that Mr. Jones," Allen asked, "WWII?"
"Hell no! I mean the big war, WWI. That war was the big one, why we didn't have none of those fancy weapons then we mostly had just regular guns and lots of guts to fight with."
"What happened then with the Wannabe? You know what happened after your Pa and the others came back home? What did the Wannabe do then?" Allen was getting quite impatient with the old man, his only concern was the Wannabe.
"Ah, not sure." The old man was beginning to be vague in his replies to Allen.
"Mr. Jones did they ever find Sgt. Dale's body?" Allen aggressively continued to probe, although he had been cautious when he first started. Allen knew the old man was reluctant to answer such questions from a stranger.
"Nope." Old man Jones was starting to get restless, so Allen changed his tactics, he apologized and suggested that the old man tell his story in his own way. The old man agreed and began again where he left off.
"The Mayor wrote me when I was in the Army and tol me this here town sent my Pa off to the state hospital for them crazy people. He couldn't take care of himself any longer and everybody was in town was sort of scared of him. That's where he eventually died. Not long after that I got shot in my manhood, blowed it almost completely off; but those Army folks they patched me up enough so's I could come back home. Don't need fleshly ways no more." He nodded toward the two female researches that stood behind Allen. "All I need in this here world is right thar on that table." The old man pointed to his battered up bible.
"Mr. Jones, why did the Wannabe follow your grandpa and the others home?" Allen asked, he couldn't let the old man's mind wander off the questions that were important. "Why do the stories say it only comes back every twelve years?"
"Don't know for sure. My Pa said one time something about new blood being available then."
"You don't know what he meant by new blood, do you?"
"Nope! " The old man abruptly stood, Allen had pushed to hard, he then walked toward the back door and then excused himself, he said he had to see a man about a dog. Allen thanked the old man and he and his researchers left. Allen knew if he had stayed and pushed the old man harder he would only intimidate the old man and he would loose all chances of coming back later.
Everyone in the van shared their theories, mostly about how old man Jones was probably as crazy as his Pa was. Allen listed to their voices but didn't really hear what anyone was actually saying until Abigale spoke up in her usual quiet way. "I know what he meant." Everyone hushed the van suddenly fell silent except for the hum of the motor. "Abigale, what did you just say?" Allen turned toward Abigale, sitting next to him in the front seat. "I said, I think I know what he meant by new blood. In this part of the country what a boy turns twelve years old he is considered a man. In some of the cultures that are deeply rooted in the old ways their custom is to treat all twelve year olds as an adult. Why some of the girls have been know to marry at twelve years old." Abigale's face turned deep pink in color when she realized everyone was watching and listening to her.
"But what does that have to do with the Wannabe?" Allen questioned.
From the back of the van came a voice that said, "Maybe the Wannabe is trying to sever family blood lines. Allen you said yourself, as far as we can find by the old records there is only one family member left alive from the original group of soldiers that was haunted by the Wannabe; And that person is old man Jones. What I don't understand is, how could the old man survive all these years living the way he does." Noah was a second year graduate student that had been working with Allen since they first met during one of Allen's yearly lectures to his first year history students. Allen felt in order to understand the present one had to first understand it's history and how it effects our lives today, which also meant his students had to understand that the past sometimes continues to live in the present through paranormal means. The paranormal subject drew Noah like a moth to a flame.
"I was wrong," Allen commented, " there is one other family member left who is directly related to the original group of soldiers."
"Who's left?" " Who is it?" "Tell us who it is?" Everyone was anxious to know the identity of the other survivor.
"Me!" Allen swallowed hard, the word almost choking him. " I'm a direct descendent of Sgt. Dale. I didn't know for sure until I found my great grandmother's old family bible in the historical library. She wrote in it about my great grandfather's death and about the demon that followed the others home. Apparently my great grandmother was the only one in the family or this town that wasn't afraid to share what she knew with others. That must have been why the bible was given to the town instead of my grandmother; My grandmother wouldn't speak about her father except that he died in the Civil War. She wouldn't even tell me where he was buried, I knew he wasn't next to my great grandmother's grave."
"Allen," Abigale announced, "according to my notes this is the twelfth year since the last disappearance in the town. Does that mean the Wannabe, if it's true, is going to come after old man Jones or maybe even you?"
Allen couldn't speak at that moment. He could only think to himself about how he could stop the Wannabe for good this time, he knew in his heart now the old legend was true. He had to stop the demon before it was to late for old man Jones or for himself.
"Rachel, your the astronomer in this group, tell me when is the next full moon expected?" Allen asked with concern.
"From what I can calculate it's going to be on.........." All the color from Rachel's face drained away as she studied her notes. She swallowed hard and was fearful of speaking. Rachel felt as if someone outside of their group was also in the van and if she was overheard the information could have been used to further their terror.
"Rachel? What's wrong?" Allen barked out. " I asked you when is the next full moon?" Allen's nerves was on edge and his patients were wearing thin now with everyone and everything around him. He was always the type of person that expected his fellow researchers to be professional and on top of the investigation just as he was. Rachel jumped, the tension that was now flowing in the van was electrifying.
"There will be a large harvest moon on Oct. 31St., Halloween night. It will be completely visible and at it's brightest about 9:00 p.m. directly due East of town." Rachel was so upset her eyes began to tear. Rachel suspected Allen was about to set a trap, a trap that could end his life if it did not work.
"Okay, we've all got to assume the Wannabe is real and will be going after either Mr. Jones or possibly me on Halloween this year. Let's get back to the hotel and go over all our notes and dig even deeper into the old legend. We have a few days left and if this damn thing is real, I don't plan on letting it get to me or Mr. Jones, not this year at least."
Allen was determined not to let the Wannabe win this years fight. "Okay then, we also have to go back and talk again to Mr. Jones; He knows more than he's telling us. I guess I'm like Noah a little; I feel like the old man knows how to keep the Wannabe away, otherwise how could he have survived for so many years. I didn't live here, I guess that had something to do with my own survival, we also lived on an island. Abigale, when we get back dig a little more into the part of the legend about the Wannabe's relationship and movements around flowing water. Rachel, I want you to dig further into the phases of the moon during the periods of time when the disappearances were occurring. Noah your going with me back to the historical library and then to see Mr. Jones. This time I'm going also as a survivor, maybe he will tell me more if he knows my relationship to Sgt. Dale. "
What started off as an ordinary paranormal investigation into an old local legend that was being blamed on the disappearance of few local residents every twelve years had turned into a life and death struggle for two men. A struggle of survival between good and evil. Allen was determined that he and Mr. Jones would win this time.
NEW 2006
All the historical data entered into Allen's lap top merged into a pattern. A pattern that over lapped one victim after another victim since the Civil War. Rachel had made graphs showing the moon phases since that time of the first sighting by Sgt. Dale and his troops. Again a pattern emerged all the attacks took place every twelve years during the first full moon in the month of October. the others in the research group continued to dig into the personal lives of each of the victims, to see if there was any type of connection between them. They found the most important pattern, each of the victims were direct descendents of the original group of Confederate soldiers that served under Sgt. Dale. Some of the descendants moved away or died of natural causes. This left only old man Jones and now Allen who were in danger. Allen sat up late once again checking and rechecking all the data, trying to get a clearer picture as to why some of the descendants were never bothered by the Wannabe, yet other families were cursed with death.
Rachel quietly sat a pot of hot coffee and croissants down in front of Allen. Allen groaned as he tried to straighten his neck, he had fallen asleep in the chair again. Rachel asked Allen how he took his coffee and placed two large warm hand and cheese croissants on a napkin in front of him. The warm rich aroma of the hot coffee reminded Allen of his college days when he would cram for exams all night. He would stop off at a neighborhood diner the next mornings on his way to class for a fresh coffee break. Thinking of the diner gave him much pleasure remembering the curvaceous waitress with the low cut top that would deliberately lean over his table as she refilled his cup. The coffee was lousy but the service would wake up a young man quite well. Rachel broke the spell the coffee had on Allen as she commented on the grin he had on his face. Allen blushed at being caught, chuckled and replied that her breakfast reminded him of much better days. Rachel poured herself a cup of coffee also and sat across Allen so they could compare notes again on the patterns they had found.
Allen and Noah went back to old man Jones and Allen came straight out with his explanation as to why the Wannabe was such a personal topic with him. The old man broke off another chew of tobacco and then shared his secret with Allen and Noah as to how he had avoided the Wannabe's appetite all those years. Late that afternoon Allen and Noah brought back a sack full of wet swamp moss and a small bucket of toads, they had collected after learning the old man's secret. A secret that would help them set their trap. If Allen's plan worked the Wannabe would loose his last two victims and the curse that was placed on the Confederate soldiers and their descendants would be broken.
Only two days remained to set his plan into action or was it only two days left to live. Only time will tell.
Abigale found the survivors of the curse lived in areas similar to Mr. Jones, basically they were all surrounded by some type of flowing water. City water lines across their fronts of their property and creek beds or natural spring fed ponds on the other sides of their land. The victims all seem to live on dry grounds. Mr. Jones secret confirmed this theory. Allen's plan was to trick the Wannabe into thinking his next victim was on dry ground and the water was in the different direction. They had to get the Wannabe into flowing water, even if it only came out of a garden hose.
Halloween Day had finally arrived and the props for Allen's trap had been set up. Now all they had to do it wait for the full moon to arrive. Whether there was lightning or not would not matter tonight. It was the twelfth year since the last death and the first full moon in October, and Sgt. Dale's grandson would be waiting on dry ground. By dusk the toads were crooking loudly in the small swimming pools the students had set up behind the saw grass on each side of the old clay road, the wet swamp moss hung from the trees over the pools giving the illusion of a very marshy area on both sides of the road. Old man Jones insisted he be allowed to also stay with Allen, he was tired to hiding his life away in the swamps for fear of the Wannabe. So old man Jones and Allen nervously sat around a small campfire in the middle of the old clay road waiting for the full moon to rise. The road appeared dry but Allen and the students had dug a narrow furrow around the entire perimeter of the camp and laid pvc pipes with holes drilled in them, they were hooked up to a near by fire hydrant. Clouds began to gather overhead the woods grew darker although the full moon was rising in the east. As the moon rose higher overhead the blood curdling scream Allen's great grandfather Sgt. Dale and old man Jones Pa, Slim Jones had heard years before came from the far end of the road. With each scream the Wannabe came closer. Allen and the old man was more frightened than they could even imagine would happen. A distant clap of thunder brought with it a bone chilling rain and the campfire went out. The two men were left in darkness for several terrifying minutes as the rain moved across the area. The large harvest moon again appeared from behind them, only with that a bright flash of lightening lit the sky over
Allen and old man Jone's head. The sound of thunder could not be heard over the piercing scream of the Wannabe as it appeared with in the circle of the pipes. Just as the Wannabe lunged forward Noah and opened the valve letting several gallons of water rush through the pipes letting a forceful spray of water cover the the two men and the beast. The Wannabe's goat like hoofs came down hard into the flowing water that now surrounded Allen and old man Jones. The sound the Wannabe made was if the pits of hell had been opened in front of them. Fire shot straight out of the beast's mouth, barely missing Allen. Within a matter of only seconds, but what felt like an eternity to Allen and the old man, the Wannabe had been consumed in the fire. Nothing but the rottening smell of burned flesh was left. Old man Jones fell to his knees giving thanks to God for his mercy and his protection. Noah came walking up along with he rest of the research group that had hidden further down the road in the van, they had been watching on a computer monitor that was set up to a hidden camera beside the road. When the group arrived and all was found to be safe they offered to drive old man Jones home. The old man said he didn't need to go back there anymore and asked to be driven to an old friend's house.
After returning to their camp, next to the old mill, Allen pulled out the video of him, the old man and the Wannabe and plugged it into his laptop. Allen and the old man was visible but the Wannabe was no where to be seen in the video only the fire that had consumed the beast was visible. Although there was no documented proof of the Wannabe or it's destruction Allen's questions about his great grandfather and the mystery surrounding his parents disappearance when he was a child had been answered. The curse of the Wannabe from beyond the grave had finally ended and peace was once again restored to the little sleepy town. OR WAS IT?..............
.......THE END......
