“If the directions are correct, the Club should be meeting in Edward Hall in Room 4309-A…” I say, holding the map up to my face. My footsteps clomp across the freshly waxed tile floors of one of the University’s most distinguished science buildings.
I stop in front of the door, checking my map one last time before cramming it into my jeans.
The mahogany door with a “Go Scorpions!” banner squeaks open. Not wanting to cause any commotion to other studying students, I shut it quietly. Outside from the small window placed on the door to the lecture hall, barely any light could be seen in the pitch-black room.
“Hello?” I shout into the empty lecture hall. “Is the Paranormal Exploration Club meeting here?”
Out of nowhere, dozens of figures with ruby red eyes turn to look at me. They push themselves through the hundreds of seats in the lecture hall as if they were treading quicksand, pacing towards me. Their outlines begin to grow closer. Each one stares at me with a ravenous look. Milky white smiles filled with serrated teeth continue to pace forward. Slobber drips from their mouths like leaking faucets. I pound against the door I came in. Another creature spots me, shoving me to the ground. I hold a hand against my face, cowering away.
Then, the lights flash on and the figures throw off their masks in unison.
“Welcome to the Paranormal Exploration Club, rookie!” they shout all together.
I let out a chuckle.
“Phew…Ya’ll made me create a new phase of matter: the Shit-Pants Condensate!”
The rest of the group laughs with me. Students begin to separate like Moses parting the Red Sea when a blond-haired, 6’4” guy, obviously the ringleader, walks up, holding out his hand. I take it and am hoisted up, surprised that I wasn’t catapulted to the lecturer’s podium from the brawny fellow’s surprising strength. The president bends his knees, resting his hands on them.
“Sorry about the prank. It’s a tradition us Scorpions have kept for quite a while. The name’s Matt and I’m the host.” He pipes in a thick redneck drawl.
Already playing along with the chipper guy’s antics, I do not hesitate to shake his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. My name is Lucas.”
Matt gets back up, putting his hands on his hips, still beaming a twinkling smile. “Everyone here is an adrenaline junkie. But even if you aren’t now, will be able to whip you up into shape! So, are ya?”
I snicker, shaking my head. “Adrenaline junkie? I dove Egypt’s Blue Hole without an oxygen tank!”
“That’s one of the most dangerous scuba places in the world. You got some spunk in ya!” Matt hollers, smacking my back with the force of a depth charge explosion. I wince, clutching my spine in shock and pain.
A subordinate walks up to Matt and whispers into his ear. I tilt my head in to see what matters they are discussing, but can’t discern anything.
“Alright, guys. What time is it?!” The spirited leader holds up a finger as if waiting for an answer.
“WHEEL! OF! SPOOKS!” Everyone yells. A projector beams a square strip of light on a whiteboard, showing a subpar “create your own selection wheel” website. The leader walks over to his black and green gaming laptop and clicks the “spin” button. On the back where the laptop’s symbol is supposed to be, there is a sticker of the school’s mascot with the head replaced with a clown’s for reasons that I could not comprehend.
The wheel rapidly rotates around until all the colors of the categories blend into a purple gray color. Slowly, the wedges become distinct again. Eventually, the wheel stops on a green category labeled “Abandoned Forest Pool. Location: Tarentum, Louisiana.”
“Abandoned Forest Pool?”
“I found something on the internet when I was digging around for abandoned places when I came across that name and coordinates. Some guy posted it on a forum. Their account was deleted, so I couldn’t find any more information on it. It doesn’t even say anything about what it looks like. The only think I know is that it is not far from the university. And that it’s just south of Fucking-nowhereville. As far as I’ve heard, the surrounding forest used to be a campsite in the 60’s. I’m in the dark about everything else.”
Matt pulls out his phone, looking at his schedule, murmuring to himself. “Let’s see. I’ve got a streak of tests in all four classes up until Friday…Today is Monday…So…” He shuts his phone off. “We head out to the forest for a little camping trip on Friday. Does this work with you, guys?”
Everyone, including myself, nods.
“I’ve got some scuba gear,” I say.
FOUR DAYS LATER
A group of several RVs and campers lie around a solitary pool. The largest camper has the words “SCORPION SHACK” on the shiny metallic paint job.
Stagnant green water filled the pool to the brim. Stretches of lap lanes are faded out and worn away. The only thing indicating their past coloring where the artificial blue specs and broken tile floating around like nuts in fruitcake. Grass and undergrowth stick out from the grout and tiles on the surface. Algae grows in small patches like a balding 30-year-old man’s hair on the surface of the swill. Thousands of pine trees surround the abandoned pool like doctors in a medical theater examining a specimen. In the center of the pool is a broken tile hole, around five feet in diameter.
While whistling to a song I couldn’t recognize, Matt pulls out a radio, a winch with around a thousand feet of cable, and a device, most likely a remote submarine, around the size of a chihuahua. I already have my scuba gear on, awaiting further instructions. I set the mask regulator complex over my face, noticing Matt tying the cable around me.
“Wait, why are you doing this?” I ask, my voice beaming from the club president’s radio.
Matt rests his hands on his hips, then places a hand on my fabric covered shoulder. “You say you are an adrenaline junkie, half-pint?” He lets out a teasing, but still kind smile.
“Yuh-huh.”
“Then prove to us that you’ve got the guts to be a part of this here club. You are going in alone. You’re the scout and the rest of us are the soldiers waiting in stand-by.”
I scrunch my eyes, pointing at his chest. “I thought this was a group activity? What’s the big idea?”
“It’s your initiation. Also, the submarine will be a communicator between you and I. If I give the call or if you are in any danger, I’ll winch ya back to the surface. I’m not one of those b-movie horror protagonists with I.Qs of diaper filled dumpsters!”
I nod, thankful that he set my mind at ease. “Ok, I guess that makes sense. I think you forgot to tell me something important, though.”
“Wuzzat, shrimpy?”
“If you fart under high pressure and you’re in one of those tunnels, then you’re about to experience what it’s like to be in a pinball machine! You’ll go flying like a missile!”
Everyone roars with laughter. The titan shakes his head, already amused by the new guy finally understanding how things are run. We do a secret handshake, forming ghosts with our hands, fingers down and making stock “oooooooo” sounds. Like in scuba class, I squat down on the slippery floor and fall back into the brackish water, giving a mock salute. My nose fills with chlorine more potent than 90 proof vodka. Rising to the surface, I see Matt gently lower the makeshift submarine into the grimy pool. Its rather large motor begins to whirr, slicing though the water. The bow is covered with a shark mouth resembling the cockpit of a Curtis P40 Warhawk. A one-of-a-kind camera rests in front, covered in a translucent shield of tampered glass.
An acoustic and slightly higher voice resonates through the water from a speaker on the underside of the drone. “Hey, Lucas. Can you hear me?”
“Loud and clear.” I respond, giving a thumbs up at the camera. From the lengths of the walls, the pool is around 7 feet deep, with a shallow end only about four feet deep. The tile seal over the top of the hole is chipped and fractured like a pizza at a low budget all-you-can-eat buffet: mismatched and disordered with pieces missing.
“Oi, what do you think is inside that hole?” Matt pipes.
I give him a shrug. The drone takes a nose dive into the seal, backing up a bit before ramming into it with a crack. The lips of the hole are covered with a smoothed off finish that eventually ends in nothing but mud walls and rock.
Without hesitation, the probe turns around towards me, hovering over the hole.
“Come on, chicken. Follow me!” it seems to say, despite Matt remaining silent for the moment. I give my rope a light tug, ensuring that it is secure around my waist, and then follow the diving probe. With a quick tap, I turn on the visor light, peering into the depths of the hole. From the looks of it, I surmise that it might be a drainage pipe.
Slime and rock tickles my wetsuit as I continue down the hole. The filth covering the walls drips like the grease from thrice microwaved fried chicken. I flip around, observing the nature of the strange muck from the right side. Vines slither from under the sludge like worms, obviously the source of the scum’s unnatural movement. Not going to stick a hand in incase if the flora doesn’t take kindly to being handled. If I did scoop up the sediment, a cloud of dust thicker than molasses most likely would cough up from the earth. Neither concrete nor tile or steel covered the sides, so there’s no way that this could have been a drainage pipe.
The unusual chamber curves into a J shape, making a straight path that lasts for what looks like an eternity.
“Hmmm…” I say to myself. Why would a pool be built over something like this if it’s not meant for clearing out dirty water?
I hear the calm humming of the camera tilting downwards. Slowly, it begins to scrutinize the other sides of the tunnel, taking note of the bizarre vines slinking in and out of dirt tunnels.
“You’d think a pool wouldn’t be able to conceal something like this, Matt. But outside from muck, rocks, and more muck rocks, there is nothing of interest here.” I say.
“Ok, keep going forward.” The probe’s camera resets to its original position. “Hold on, I think I see an opening.”
Soon, the plant life extends outwards like a funnel, slowly opening into a new chamber. I crank up the dial on my visor, brightening the light’s glow in the now open room, larger than a black hole. As I continue to swim forward, the opening progressively shrinks. Eventually, a blob of penumbras is the only thing visible.
Small grey dots form on the sides of the void. Some of the dots grow into extensive branches almost resembling nerves.
“Matt, tilt the camera down. Are you seeing what I am seeing?”
“Yeah. Probably just roots from the trees above.”
“I’m not a botanist, but I don’t think pine roots extend that long.” I look down. “Of course, this could have been a cave filled with once living trees.”
Like undulating tentacles, the plant limbs begin to expand, growing like mold on a rotten fruit. Pale growths and roots larger than a cruise ship begin to eat at the blackness until they swallow it all up. Although I couldn’t imagine their length, the titanic plants were no thicker than an arm. The trees were stripped of their leaves as well.
Stopping for a moment to tread water, I inspect the extraordinary lengths of the underwater forest. Lumps of loose bark hang like drying clothes on a line on each tree. When I rub my hand against one of the plant’s glass smooth undersides, it peels off with ease.
“I can’t tell how long these trees are. Do you want me to see where they lead?” I ask.
“No, no, no, no, no. Keep straight. I’m not going to let you get tangled up and suffocate in these waters.”
From the corner of my eye, some of the roots begin to move. Instinctively, I double take, only to see that they’re still inanimate.
The underwater trees increase in numbers, taking up more space. I turn around, seemingly noticing more of the roots beginning to move.
“Probably the darkness screwing around with my head,” I thought.
Then, the tree branches stop appearing altogether in my line of sight, leaving only the trunks behind. I pan my head towards the ceiling, seeing the web of branches carpeting the sky. Looking down, I see faint traces of ebony muck rising in a hill. Still keeping my straight path as instructed, the slope slowly gains altitude. Roots become clearer in my visor, appearing in formations almost resembling the blood vessels in eyes. One of the roots nearly cuts my arm. As it approaches, it has an unnaturally burning aura, almost like a metal park bench on a summer day.
Why would underground plants, which are nowhere near sunlight, be unusually hot?
Soon, the mud begins to hug me when the mound grows high enough and fills my body with a cold shock. I scrape off the gunk.
Suddenly, my light goes out. Sweat drips into my eyes. “My light’s gone out! Matt! Bring me to the surface, now!”
“Lucas? Lucas! What is going on down there?” Matt shouts into the radio. I can hear him cranking up the winch and letting it eat up the cable.
Rapidly tapping on my torch, I swim around in a panic, trying to find right from left and up from down. My hyperventilating, the fizz of the regulator, and the sloshing of the water fill the silence of the room. The only thing I could think of at the moment is follow the tether and hope that it’s not cut loose. All focus is glued to the muddy ground. Without a clue of where I’m going, I run into the lifeless plants. I get knotted in my own tether desperately trying to find a way out. One of the bits of rope loops around my neck. By some miracle, I remember my diving training. Panic eats away at one’s oxygen supply, possibly leading to certain death.
Slowly, I shake my head, gently tapping the light once more. In a blink of an eye, the torch relights. The trees have become nothing but distant chopsticks in a sea of soy sauce black. For hundreds of feet, there is nothing but damp sediment populated with stone monoliths and smaller slabs of granite and marble.
“False alarm, Matt. Everything is fine. Where are you?”
Treading water once more, my breath steadies and I listen for the hum of the Warhawk painted drone.
“Hey, Lucas. I can see you. I’m heading towards your position. Hold on.” Matt’s voice echoes through the water. I turn my head to the stone stacks in unusual formations, putting a thumb up to measure the closest; one was not ten feet from me. Based on my calculations, I determine that they were over twenty-five feet tall. I search for more, finding it hard to count all of them. Some were too deep into the darkness for the light to detect. All the monoliths were identical. At the bottom, there was a round-ish stone sitting still on the ground like tobacco in a spittoon. Next, there was a longer beam of rock wobbling strangely on the lower stone like a seesaw. And finally, a carved boulder in a V-shape, holding everything together in one sediment sandwich.
Thousands of smaller slabs of rock were also embedded in the gunk, spread out, each about the size of a suitcase.
Tombstones.
I swim around the closest colossus and drift above the graveyard memorials, touching my chin.
“Weird looking cemetery, huh?” Matt’s submarine chimes up, pulling me out of a deep study. It pans around the monolith, kicking up ground accumulation and searching for any writing.
Out of nowhere, I catch a shot of one of the branches moving on its own. I squint at one of the ropy protrusions.
“Did you see that, Matt?” I pipe up.
Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t a tree.
My light goes out once again and I swim around aimlessly once again. Out of nowhere, I collide with monolith.
Squish. A flipper catches on something.
Click. The light awakens. A small burst of blood seeps from the ground. Dislodging my foot from the object, the fluid billows out faster. When Matt and I look down, we find the source:
A human head, sockets black as tar, and an ebony distorted mouth locked in a scream.
I recoil back.
“Oh, God!” both of us yelp.
“Lucas! I’m bringing you up! Forget the submarine!” Matt yells.
Behind his spine are hundreds of vines siphoning blood and fluids as if he were a fleshy juice box in the mouth of an overweight kid. His skin is an eggplant purple at the back, where something is latched on to him. The black-green conglomerations pump out the nasty chyme from his torso.
I throw my instincts out the door, sensing an inexplicable heartbeat from the man, and unearth the rest of the body. A leg protrudes from the dirt like a shipwreck in a dried-up lake. Trying not to rip up the trapped human by mistake, I fish out the first leg. Then, I shimmy out the sunken arms, brushing off the dirt from the midsection as well. My hand gets caught on an unidentifiable glistening strand that crunches and squelches when I try to free it.
I swim back to see the rest of the body. It was of an adult male with hair darker than the gunk his limp body is resting on. Its skin had a smooth texture similar to that of soap.
“Lucas! What’s going on down there?! Get out, now! You have to get the hell out, now!” Matt’s voice bellows. Its camera pans to the unknown man.
“Why are you still down there?! You have to escape! You’ll die down there!” From the mike, I can hear Matt crank the winch faster than imaginable, calling over some more muscle in addition.
I stick my hands behind my rescue’s back, prying him away from the ground with revolting snaps. As his back is peeled away from the earthen matter, a cyst larger than a fist starts to uproot from the ground like a massive blighted turnip. The more I tear away his limp carcass from the ropy earth, the more his heartbeat slows. When I poke the flesh sack by mistake, his pulse disappears like ships in the Bermuda Triangle.
The growth was keeping him alive.
This time, I try to take more caution, trying not to let the cyst rupture by mistake. As the tumor exits the ground with a thick plop, his body starts to twist and contort, almost as if his brain was poked by surgeons trying to stimulate his nerves.
When I finally release him from his earthen prison, the ground begins to shake. One of the stones splits in half, dropping on the submarine and crushing it flat. The motor makes one last sorrowful whine before dying.
“Matt? Matt! Can you hear me?! Get me out!” I tie the man’s arms to the bungee rope around my back, giving it two good pulls, and scale the rope with the man on my back, carrying him like an infantryman with a wounded battle buddy. Another stone plummets to the ground, missing me by a hair. It collides with the ground with a wet kaboom. I follow the path, kicking my legs, pumping my arms faster than my body can handle and hoping that Matt is still winding up the rope.
My light suddenly goes out. Just my fucking luck. I pant, swimming upwards away from the avalanche of collapsing stones. The ground quakes underneath. Stones fade into nothingness.
I pause for a moment, trying to calm down.
“Lucas, kill the motor. If you panic, your oxygen will run out” I whisper to myself.
Looking down below, I watch more of the stone structures topple to the ground like giant dominoes. Each of them echo as they go timber onto the mud. The last one falls over and makes the last thunderous rumble. The only sounds left are the sounds of my hissing regulator and the gentle movements of the water.
A force ever so slightly tugs at the cord and pulls me back. I slightly pump a fist, realizing that Matt still was pulling me back. Serenity fills my body. I swim over to the tied body, checking if he’s still alive. I close my eyes in bliss upon feeling his neck vibrate with life.
My limbs quiver when an unrecognizable sound blares through the inside of the cave, creating shockwaves that make the water shudder. It was a cross between a dying whale call and a dog growling.
Without thinking, I hurry across the rope, not giving a damn what happens to man on my shoulders. I tap the side of my light like a woodpecker drilling into a tree.
“Please turn on!” I was not going to speak louder than a murmur and alert whatever the hell was in there. Chalky tendrils begin to slither out from the abyss like snakes from a charmer’s basket and start to surround me. A smell of centuries of rotting flesh wafts from below. The blasting noise rattles my scuba gear. For a moment, I thought the air tubes would disconnect from the violent quaking.
Slowly, my head lowers down at the source: a loose-jawed maw with teeth large as cars and a mouth big enough to swallow a barge and have room for seconds.
I scream until my vocal cords are ripped apart, speeding even faster than before. My body catches onto the side of the creature’s mouth.
My light turns back on. Inverted sawblades and spiked tentacles for teeth line the inside of its gullet, leading to a pink red esophagus lined with hungry mouths. By a miracle, the rope pulls me out before that thing can devour me. Overgrowth and tombstones cover its skin, with the bodies of countless people still attached to its skin like barnacles to a whale.
The thing was swimming faster than a bullet, but it took more than a minute for the serpent to completely pass by my visor. For a moment, it twists around in tangles hundreds of yards long. I continue to grab at the rope, dragging myself along.
It senses my desperate escape, realigning itself towards me, almost forming a colorless sun in the obsidian depths. In an instant, it tunnels through the water, trying to swallow me whole. By another stroke of luck, it misses. The currents left behind its obese body thrash me around like a balloon in a hurricane. Not letting go, I grip onto the flailing hand of my rescue. I continue to follow the end of the rope.
The creature turns around, springing out its tentacles. I gasp when one of the mace-like stalks grazes my wetsuit.
SNAP!
A strand of neon green bungee cord flies off my torso.
This time, I don’t hold back.
I don’t give a shit about wasting oxygen.
I just need to get out immediately.
I swallow some saliva, swimming around frantically like someone in cement shoes and hoping that the light catches the falling strand. The creature turns a razor barbed head, darting back around through the inky water, right behind my tail. For a moment, my only means of escape reveals itself through the darkness. Not yet. I cannot grab it yet.
Rising up from the water, the creature narrowly scrapes by my flippers. It makes another slow turn around, wheeling back once more to sneak another chomp. I dive back down, gritting my teeth, digging through the water as if it were quicksand.
The creature opens its mouth wider than one could imagine, just only hundreds of feet from me. I find the other end of the rope, slowly sinking into the depths. I barely can reach it by only a few fingertips. With one last reach, I grab it, clambering up the rope and keeping the man in tow.
The creature makes one last snap at my right side. Countless false arms and bodies batter me around like a tsunami washing away a smart car.
A crack forms in my visor; water gushes out in small streams, blinding my eyes. I blink a few times before continuing my path.
Then, I start to see wisps of light in the dark from the hole I came in.
Blinking once again, trying to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me, I realize that divers from the Paranormal Exploration Club were waving me towards them.
I look back, watching the serpentine beast charge in from the back of the abyss.
Two of the divers take off from their post, releasing the smooth body from the bungee. Another two come with me, pulling me with them. Both take a look back, the distance between the creature and us decreasing by the millisecond. The edge of the hole surrounds me as the divers throw me inside, falling back just before it could devour us.
It releases another horrid yell, showing off its nightmare-inducing gullet. We continue to swim away from the demon as it tries to force itself in, not even getting close to reaching us.
Upon reaching the surface, I throw off the mask, coughing up water. Matt races towards me, jaw agape. It was hard to tell if he’s confused about the person I saved or my unexpected arrival.
“Holy fuck, Lucas. Do not ever scare me like that again. I thought you died in there,” Matt says, embracing me in a hug. “And you saved someone. Does anybody know CRP?”
I nod, hoisting the body onto the old tile. The cyst on his back shrinks like a receding river and falls off his skin. Taking two fingers, I check for a pulse from him. Still alive.
Everyone takes a step back watching the mysterious man’s skin suddenly melt away, exposing raw, decaying muscle. His jaw falls clean off, leaving behind a lengthy, flopping tongue hanging like a broken chicken neck. The man crouches down, holding his knees to his chest. Suddenly, he vomits up a thick green mass about a meter long with putrid stringy skin resembling that of the dragon-thing in the cave. I cringe as fever blisters and vile sagging sacks burst out from underneath the humanoid like the bumps of a toad, collecting and pressing against each other. A set of white pupils form in his eyes, as it surveys the forest.
It locks eyes with me, slowly crawling towards me with movements like that of a stalking tiger. Its bony fingers and toes spread apart as it applies pressure against the tile. I drop to the ground, remaining completely still and ensuring that I don’t make any sudden movements. The humanoid pushes against my stomach as it tries to get a good look at my face. Its ivory pupils scan down and then back up. For a moment, it pauses to contemplate its decision.
I give a look to the nearby club members, hoping that they would keep quiet. If that thing gets startled, who knows what it will do?
Eventually, the humanoid gets off my chest. The sudden rustling of a large rabbit against the grass captures its attention. It lowers itself to the ground, ready to strike when the time is right. The rabbit raises its ears, making the beast drop even lower to the ground. When the rabbit brushes off the danger, the brute shoots across the dead grass like a cheetah with a gazelle, pouncing on its prey and skewering it with its tongue. It grips its panicked catch, fingertips digging into fur and staining it red. The rest of the students gag as the keratinous bags start to drizzle and fill up with blood, mucus, and pus from the shrieking rabbit. The poor creature starts to shrivel into a husk, gasping for air. Its assailant’s pustules have grown to the size of grapefruits.
It takes the satchels of nutrients to the entrance hole, releasing a sickly roar. A few minutes pass and a slender probiscis slithers from the inky hole. At the very tip of the tentacle, a pair of fangs spring out, resembling biological pruning shears. Like a syringe pricking the arm of a patient, the fangs puncture the coagulated and thick skin sacks, allowing the veiny, throbbing mouthparts to suck out the liquid and gulp it down. When the beast is finished with its meal, it retreats back into the hole, with the worker galloping and submerging itself into the cave.
Our focus turns to the meter long maggot, which pulls back and strikes faster than an eye can blink and latches onto Matt’s lower neck.
“Shit! It’s got me!” Matt shouts, trying to wrench the parasite from his shoulder. I throw off my flippers and remaining gear, sprinting over and trying to find anything sharp. Two other people run over to him, trying to free Matt from the thing’s grasp without any luck. His skin drains of color as the worm begins to bury itself deeper. The gentle giant’s dorsal skin begins to loosen and stretch out, forming disgusting sacks and pouches that hang and ooze. Matt’s eyes start to fade to a deep charcoal black and his mouth begins to unhinge in a scream just like the previous “man” I saved.
It’s trying to create another worker for the leviathan.
When my hand clasps the cool surface of a pocket knife, I rush over, digging out the slithering leech and chopping off its head. The moment the creature is uprooted from the burrow of flesh, it screams out a cry like that of a dying elephant before dropping to the ground. Matt’s skin returns its color, reinflating, and his jaw resets itself back to normal.
Matt and I share a look, bolting to the campers and flooring the gas without a care about leaving shit behind. Streaks of mud sputter out from the spinning tires. Grass flies everywhere. I hold the back of my seat, giving one last look at the ominous pool.
FOUR DAYS LATER
Everyone in the club’s lecture hall had looks of sorrow and horror on their faces, most likely shook up from the incident. Matt’s eyes were surrounded by halos of darkness that cast shadows of trauma towards the audience. He wrenches up a weak smile, failing at keeping a warm facade, and taps on the podium’s mike.
“Can I have your attention please?” The president speaks. “For reasons that you all know about, all exploration will be done via drones from now on. This meeting has been adjourned. I will see you all next week.”