As you can guess, this isn’t my story. It was told to me through sips of whiskey and packed cigars. I can’t vouch for the exact details, but I’ll try to tell the story as it was told to me.
My uncle grew up in the 60s and 70s in a house full of kids and with a friend group consisting of stoners and underage drinkers. He was close with almost all of them except for a guy we’ll call Dan. My uncle and Dan never got along well. Apparently, Dan had dated my aunt and broken her heart.
One day, the group went camping in the old woods across town. The trek was arduous. There were lots of fallen trees, low-hanging branches to duck under, and a narrow river they needed to find a way around. My uncle was the one leading them to their campsite, an out-of-place clearing that almost looked purposeful. When retelling this story, he said they had been complaining all the way there but became practically awe-struck at the sight.
The clearing was more of a meadow. Beautiful flowers and tall, luscious trees formed a large ring around them as they unloaded their packs. It took them until dusk to fully set up their camp for the next three days.
The group huddled around a campfire as night fell, telling stories and reminiscing about childhood long into the night. Someone had snuck some whiskey into their pack and was passing it around to everyone. There was when my uncle heard the tale about a cave nearby.
The story talks about a group of kids who went hiking in the mountains, only for one of them to return. Shellshocked and traumatized, the kid was never able to tell the police exactly where to find his two friends.
A hush fell over the group, and unease spread. Something about that story unsettled even my uncle, a known skeptic. The group called an early night and turned in for restless sleep. My uncle had a dream that night.
In his dream, he was the young child from the story.
He was trekking up a steep incline, followed by two of his friends, Susan and Fred. It had just rained, and the mud was slippery under their boots. He looked back at the two following his lead and said something inaudible as a flash of lightning crashed nearby. Soon, booming thunder shook the very ground they walked on.
The three marched onward as dark clouds loomed overhead, threatening to unleash a mighty downpour. After what felt like hours of walking in place, the earth leveled out as they reached a small clearing. The three children stood facing the mouth of a cave, and when they peeked inside, a sharp drop-off beckoned them closer. Susan grabbed my uncle by the arm, but her voice was drowned as another flash of lightning was followed by more roaring thunder.
The darkness urged my uncle ever closer. Arm-like tendrils reached for him out of the darkness as he took another step toward the cliff edge. He could hear whispers from the pit. The voices yearned incessantly for a sacrifice.
My uncle awoke from his nightmare with sweat rolling down his back and labored breathing. The sun had yet to rise, and all that was heard was the gentle snoring from his friends in the neighboring tents. Deciding he needed a breather, my uncle crawled out of his tent and into the warm night air, admiring the stars that were clearer and brighter than he’d ever seen—like tiny, far-away flashlights in the sky.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Said a soft voice beside him, snapping him from his thoughts as he turned to face Susan, “I’ve never seen the stars this bright.”
“Yeah, they’re really somethin’ else.” He smiled at Susan.
“What’d you think of that story?” She said abruptly, turning to my uncle with a curious gaze.
“The one about the kids?” he asked. He had almost forgotten the story and the dream that followed.
“Dan always has good stories, doesn’t he?”
“I guess,” he paused before recalling his strange dream. “I had a nightmare.”
A look of wonder dawned on Susan’s face, “You too?” Her attention was no longer on the stars.
My uncle looked at her questioningly, “Are you messing with me?”
“What? No, I had a nightmare, too. I woke up in a cold sweat and everything.” Susan put her hands up defensively.
Just then, Dan stepped out of his tent, his hair disheveled from sleep. The two stared at him as he rubbed his eyes.
“You two are loud talkers, y’know,” He spoke with a yawn.
“I think you’re just a light sleeper,” Susan said, rolling her eyes.
Dan shrugged and sat in one of the foldup chairs surrounding the now burnt-out campfire. He looked up at the stars, “Man, would’ya look at that?” he smiled.
“I was just sayin’ the same thing,” my uncle said, sitting beside Dan. Susan stayed standing but looked up at the stars, too.
The three stayed like that for a few minutes, enjoying the cold breeze that the night brought. Susan placed an arm on Dan’s shoulder and yawned.
“That story gave us nightmares,” She smiled down at him.
Dan seemed proud of himself and looked over at my uncle, “You too, Thomas?”
My uncle only nodded, breaking his gaze from the stars to look at his feet. “Yeah, it was strange,” he said, “We were walkin’ up the trail to that cave, Susan, me, and Fred.”
“I had that same dream!” Susan cut in, “I was leading Thomas and Fred to some dark cave, and every time I tried to speak, thunder would drown out my voice,” She explained her dream to them.
My uncle’s blood ran cold as he heard Susan explain the exact dream he had. It was the same, except he had led the two. My Uncle looked back at the tents, at Fred’s tent that he shared with his girlfriend, Amy. He could still hear Fred’s gentle snoring. The boy was fast asleep, oblivious to everything.
“Hey, what if we went to that cave?” Dan interjected.
Susan and my uncle stared at him as if he were crazy. Dan only laughed as he urged the two to consider it at least: “I know where it is; we could go there in the morning.” With a mischievous smile, he said, “Or we could go right now?”
My uncle swallowed and bounced his leg, not wanting to chicken out. He wanted to impress Susan. He’d had feelings for her all summer. Her auburn hair and light freckles that danced across her caramel skin. Her brown eyes with hints of gold always looked at him with humor whenever she would prompt adventure. It was her idea to go camping.
“Let’s go right now, before the others wake up,” Susan agreed, and the two looked at my uncle expectantly.
“I… All right, fine. Let’s be quick, though.” He gave in and stood up.
Susan passed Dan a lantern, and the three headed away from camp.
The lantern and the moon gave them just enough light to see where they placed their feet as they hiked up what was slowly becoming a mountain to where Dan said the cave was. It was dark, but by the time they had reached a small clearing on the steep hill, the sun had begun to rise behind them.
“Is it here?” Asked Susan, not nearly out of breath as the other two.
“Should be.” Answered Dan, raising the lantern as he spun around, surveying their surroundings.
My uncle groaned in exhaustion, “Are you sure it’s even real?”
“I’m positive,” Dan called back to him.
The three looked around the small clearing before Dan called my uncle and Susan over to him.
“I found it!” He said triumphantly.
As the two walked over to him, all they could see was foliage, but as Dan pushed back the leaves, they laid their eyes on the mouth of a dark cave. The entrance was only a couple of feet tall and extremely narrow, yet as the three peered inside, they could see it opened up into a vast cavern.
“Should we, I don’t know… go inside?” Dan asked cautiously. A gust of hot air was continuously coming from the cavern.
The other two were silent as they shared glances of unease. My uncle was the first to respond, wanting to impress Susan with his bravery.
“Let’s go inside,” He spoke, looking at Susan expectantly, “I’m sure it’s fine.”
Sighing, Susan agreed, and soon the three of them ducked into the cave.
Upon entering, the three were hit by a wall of foul-smelling, hot air. The inside of the cave was dark and seemed to swallow any light provided by the lantern. The three expected to see bats come flying out as they entered, like in the cartoons. Instead, all they saw was empty darkness. They dared not move as they surveyed the cavern; only then did they see they were standing on the edge of a steep drop-off.
“Woah..” Susan remarked, staring at the pit.
“Wouldn’t wanna fall down there,” Dan joked, trying to make light of the situation.
My uncle said nothing. He was practically transfixed by the inky darkness that threatened to spill over onto the edge he stood on.
“It smells awful here,” Dan spoke nasally as he pinched his nose.
“Yeah, did something die?” Susan followed Dan’s action.
“It’s the pit,” My uncle said finally, “It’s from my nightmare.”
Susan and Dan stared at my uncle as he stepped toward the darkness. They wanted to say something, grab him, and pull him back. Back and out of this cave, they felt they never should have entered.
As Dan reached to pull him back, he caught a glimpse at exactly what my uncle was surrendering himself to.
A monstrous thing of nightmares. Whether it was an animal or a being of divine creation, my uncle was not sure. But it called to him. It spoke to him incoherently, in a language long forgotten by time. It yearned for a feast; it yearned for him. My uncle internally screamed, but his body had long since abandoned him. He was a prisoner in his mind with a body that betrayed his every command.
“Thomas!” Dan yanked my uncle by the arm back towards the cave entrance.
“No! The pit, the darkness!” He shouted as he fought against Dan’s attempt at a rescue.
Tendrils of darkness pulled him closer to the pit. They were stronger than the two of them. Yet, in one last attempt to gain control over his body, my uncle decided the pit needed to be fed, or else it would not let the three go.
“I’m sorry, Dan,” He shouted over the voices from the pit and pulled Dan closer, yanking him to the edge before finally shoving the boy into the pit.
As if like a switch, the voices stopped. The tendrils receded, and all that was left were my uncle and Susan. He looked around the cave and picked up the lantern, searching for Susan as he realized she was no longer in the cavern.
“Susan?” He called out for her.
He exited the cave’s darkness and saw Susan huddled against a tree, staring at the mouth expectantly.
The two said nothing to each other as they trekked down the mountain, sharing only glances in a silent agreement that what happened back there would never be spoken of.
At least, that was until now.
As I said, I cannot vouch for the events of this story. My uncle is an old, couch-hopping drunk who, although I love him, isn’t known to be the most coherent man.
I hope you all enjoyed this story; I know my uncle has many more that I may transcribe in the future.