In the small town I grew up there was place known by the locals as “Blood Hill”. Whatever you might find on Google is not related to any of the things I’m about to tell you. In fact, I don’t even think that place even has a proper name; that is how unassuming it is. I haven’t stepped foot in that sleepy little town in West Viriginia for at least 20 years and after a phone-call with my childhood friend, Will, I doubt I ever will again.
My hometown is surrounded mostly by fields and woods. It’s quite rural, but you’ll still find the essentials – a sawmill (where people have been working for generations), post office, general store, small bank, church etc. It’s a secluded oasis where everyone knows everyones business (for better and worse). At one point in time even I thought that I would return and settle down. However, after you’ve read my story, you might understand why I changed my mind.
It was autumn and I was 11 years old. When we didn’t go to school, did homework or helped out at home with chores, me and Will would spend every waking hour in the woods – playing, building forts or exploring the countless miles of backwoods. I’m surprised that our parents would allow us to venture as far away from home as we did. That said, there was one cardinal rule that had been hammered into the head of every child in our little town.
You are by no means allowed to visit Blood Hill.
According to the adults the place was haunted by the ghosts of criminals that were executed on that very hill some 150-200 years ago. At night, if you were close enough, you would hear their tormented cries. Some claimed to have seen pale, spectral figures move around the area. But there was something even worse.. Apparently, a vile creature simply known as ”The Ogre”, lived beneath the hill itself in a hidden cavern. Legend had it he would drink the blood of the dead running down the sides of the hill whenever someones life was taken. Although the hill had lost its initial purpose, ”The Ogre” still resided there, feeding on whatever came in its path – especially small, nosy kids.
Whether or not I believed these tall tales when I was young, I was still too scared to break my parents trust. My friend Will, however, was not as easily convinced. As a matter of fact, he loved pushing boundaries. He was by no means a deliquent or a troublemaker. To my parents chagrin, I had over the years turned into his trusty sidekick.
At that very moment, we were walking one of many dirtroads that snaked their way through the autumnal surroundings. A cold, yet gentle wind brushed through the leaves, their rustling accompanying our boots kicking up dirt and gravel. While cutting through the air, using a stick, as if he was fighting some invicible foe, Will suddenly said:
”So, Luke.. about Blood Hill..”
I sighed, kicking away some smaller rocks.
”Yeah…?”
He grinned at me and immediately I knew what that meant – his wanderlust had once been rekindled.
”Have you never wondered what’s up there?” my friend said, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
”No, not really and besides… we already know..” I replied.
Will pointed at me with his stick mockingly and chuckled. ”Oh come on, Connor! You’re almost 12 and you still believe in ghosts and monsters?”
He was right. I was still somewhat of a baby at that age. I knew, however, that his words were never meant to bring me down, but rather encourage me; make me crawl out of my shell. Still, I felt that I had to say something as to not completely lose face in front of him.
”No, I don’t, but don’t you think that-”
”Seriously?” Will interrupted me. ”Have you EVER seen a ghost?”
”No..”
”What about monsters then?”
”Ok, ok. I get it. None of them REALLY exist, happy?”
A smug grin spread across his face. He looked into the depths of the woods, then back at me, as if daring me to take the first step. I remained still. Eventually Will spoke up.
”I actually know how to get there. So, what do you say?”
”What? You wanna go there right now?”
”Yeah, you got a problem with that?” Will said, that devilish smile still plastered on his face.
His words hung heavy on my conscious as I scanned the treeline. In my mind’s eye, the forest suddenly felt ancient and filled with unseen horrors. I gulped a mouhful of air, looked down at my feet and cleared my throat.
”Ok.” I turned back to Will. ”But do we really have to do it RIGHT NOW? I mean, if my parents find out they’re gonna ground me.”
Thankfully, Will came to his sense, but I could tell that he hadn’t completely given up on the idea. Once I got home, I found out that my parents were going away for weekened. Apparently they had already made plans with Will’s parents for me to stay there. On one hand it would be a blast hanging out with my best friend, but on the other I knew that Blood Hill would be brought up again.
Once I entered his room and started unpacking my stuff, it didn’t take long until he said the magic words:
”Let’s check out Blood Hill after dinner, ok?”
I knew damn well, that the moment I stepped into his room, that I was doomed. My parents had already taken off and I just couldn’t leave. In other words; I had no choice but to simply sign up for yet another one of Will’s ”fantastical adventures.”
Once we’d had dinner we went up to Will’s room, got our bags and went down to pack supplies (mostly snacks and a pair of flashlights). 20 minutes later we found ourselves deep in the woods. I felt skittish as we trudged over dead leaves and twisted roots. The sounds of birds had grown faint indicating they would soon migrate to warmer climates. After a while we came across an old, rickety hunting tower. We stopped and investigated it, but found nothing of interest. So, we decided to venture beyond the structure until we eventually reached what appeared to be some sort of wetlands, a bog to be exact – which eminated an earthy and rich odor. The skies had turned grey and in the abscence of light, the weather-beaten snags almost looked like a sea of decaying animal bones.
After travelling for 40 more minutes we decided to take a break and eat some snacks. While stuffing my face with a granola bar, I took the opportunity to ask Will how he knew the way to Blood Hill. Most of you are probably thinking: ”it’s a hill, how hard can it be to find?” I’ve touched on it earlier, but there were parts of those woods that were deep and quite honestly, foreboding. So, with that in mind, finding a hill or any kind of elevation, was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
Will took a sip from his Gatorade and then proceeded to tell me that, apparently, several kids had already broken the sacred oath and sought out the mythical hill. After putting back the bottle in his backpack, he got up and stretched out his hand to me. The moment I grabbed his hand our eyes locked. That awfully familiar smile danced on his lips. I had known Will long enough to know what that meant. He had concoted something and any second now he would spill the beans.
”I have a plan, Connor”
I sighed, but chuckled lightly before replying:
”Oh yeah?”
”I’ve been told that no one has actually climbed the hill and seen what’s on the other side.”
I didn’t like where this was going. First off, I hated the idea of going to Blood Hill and secondly, I was deathly afraid of heights. But as always, I remained quiet and nodded in agreement.
I wasn’t sure what scared me the most; ghost or the ogre, or what would happen if my parents found out that I had gone behind their backs. Will looked at me. His smile had dwindled somewhat. He patted my shoulder assuringly. He was, after all, no stranger to my cowardice.
”It’s ok.. I won’t let anyone know you were with me, ok?”
My eyes glanced in the direction we were going to head next. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad after all? Perhaps that mystical hill, with all of its strange and terrifying stories, was just what I needed; my personal baptism of fire? I looked my friend in the eyes and took a deep breath before saying:
”Ok. Show the way.”
After covering a few more miles I could feel a distinct change in the atmosphere. Mother Nature held her breath. Birds, small critters, even the wind – had faded, leaving only the sounds of our footsteps. I looked up. Amid the branches grey clouds were looming; a telltale sign of bad weather.
”Looks as if its about to start raining.” I said with a hint of worry. ”Maybe it’s better if we turn back? ”
Will, who had taken the lead, stopped and turned around to face me. I could tell that he was not having it.
”Huh, didn’t know you were such a chicken, Connor.”
I was about to say something back when I saw Will’s eyes widening. Before I knew it he was screaming from the top of his lungs:
”RUN!”
And just like that, the skies tore open, bombarding the landscape with a mixture of rain and hail. We ran for our lives, until we found shelter under a giant tree. We crept under its low-hanging branches and remained still. Finally, after what felt like hours, things calmed down and we crawled out. A deep, musky essence of wet soil and plant life hung in the air. The skies were clear now; cobalt with wispy white clouds and visible just above the misty treeline, a sinking blood-red sun. As soon as Will was on his feet he started walking. We proceeded to trudge deeper into the wilderness, but no hill or elevation in sight.
”Uhm.. Will? How much longer do we have to walk?”
I half-expected a snotty reply, but instead Will pointed at a patch of dense pine trees.
”There!”
Before we could reach the elevation, we traversed a couple of large, moss-covered rocks. On the other side laid a giant tree that had been uprooted by the wind. My overactive imagination immediately got to work. The disrupted soil, a pit-mound, where the tree had once stood resembled the mouth of some mythological beast. Stones took on the form of gnomes. Crooked trees turned into wicked old crones. Eventually, we began traversing the thick patch of pines and as we did, the sun disappeared. While watching every step I imagined what I would be facing next. Would I actually get to see a ghost? A phantom? Or even worse, the notorious, child-devouring ogre?
The moment I laid eyes on the ill-famed Blood Hill, it quickly dawned on me that it was nothing but a simple cliff, no more than 20 feet in height. All of the stories that I had heard about the place had scared me shitless, even given me nightmares at times, but standing there, studying it, I felt relieved. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Just a simple crag. Will stepped forward, putting one of his hands on the rocky surface.
”This.. this is awesome…” The excitement in his voice was tangible. He then turned to me.
”Isn’t this the coolest thing ever?”
”Sure..” I replied, trying to hide my sarcasm.
”Well? Ready to start climbing?”
Frankly, I’m surprised we made it being that we had no equipment whatsoever. Eventually, after taking our time avoiding slippery ledges while simultaneously fanning the flames of youthful curiosity, we finally reached the top. What I saw left me breathless. In the far distance I could make out my hometown, but apart from that, nothing but unexplored backcountry. Blood Hill emerged like a blackened thumb amidst pine trees and leafy tree crowns burning with the multicolored shades of autumn. Dusk was just around the corner and the landscape around us was basking in its fading light. I’m not sure how long I was out for, but sooner or later, I averted my eyes from the forest surrounding us. Will was standing next to cliff’s edge, opposite of me, looking down at something. While approaching him, I again started pondering – how could a place, surrounded by such breathtaking beauty, have become the hotbed for such dark fiction? Once I reached the edge, I looked down, curious as to what had caught my friend’s attention.
The stretch of woods below us looked different, almost primeval, untouched and undisturbed by human influence. It was the kind of forest that you would think was extinct, but there it was. However, I didn’t get the chance to admire it any further before Will asked me to help him find a way down which didn’t take very long.
Once my feet touched the mossy soil, it felt as if I had entered a parallell world of fantasties. The area consisted mainly of knotty fir trees covered with thick layers of pale moss. Roots as thick as my forearm snaked across the forest floor, barely hiding long forgotten runways. For whatever reason, this specific patch of woods had been left alone to flourish for countless centuries. It was a nostalgic window into a time before civilisation. That said, there was something bothering me, namely the distinct lack of sound.
No sign of wildlife. No wind. I felt uneasy, as if we were trespassing. Carefully, I looked around, but saw no ghosts or trolls readying themselves for ambush. I exhaled while trying to ground myself. I had been so blindsided by my own delusional thinking that my heart jumped a beat at the sound of Will’s voice.
”Hey! Check this out!”
I spun around and started making my way towards his voice. After worming myself under fallen trees and criss-crossing the trecherous terrain, I finally caught sight of Will. He was smiling while pointing at something. There, concealed behind woody debris and underbrush, at the foot of the hill, was the entrance a cave. I made my way toward my friend while staring at the passageway. It was like an open maw; an abyss with no visible end. Will glanced over at me as I got closer.
”You think the Ogre is in there?” he asked.
It was literally impossible to see anything in there. Maybe he was right. Maybe someone or something was living in there. Regardless, it was too dark to tell. That said, it wouldn’t make any sense. We had been at Blood Hill for a good 20 minutes or so, and we had yet to stumble upon anything that defied the laws of nature. It was time to chin-up.
”We could always check it out.” I said.
I must’ve impressed Will. I wasn’t facing him, but I could tell that he was staring at me. So, I turned to him and that’s when I saw he was holding out a flashlight. I grabbed it after which he produced his own.
”I’ve been waiting for your balls to drop.” A sly smirk adorned his face. ”Lead the way.”
But as soon as push came to shove, we both hesitated. The sky had started to darken and even though we were armed with flashlights, we didn’t want to venture too far. Instead we decided to just take a quick peek. There we were, squaring up for the challenge, when a sound made us both freeze up – someone or something, was making its way towards us. My newfound gumption dissolved and I remained frozen to the spot if Will hadn’t grabbed me by the arm and pulled me towards some bushes where we ended up hiding.
The second we were out of sight we laid flat, waiting for whatever was going to happen next. It sounded like someone walking on two legs. We remained quiet as the person came closer before they eventually stopped, somewhere between our hidingspot and the cave. Me and Will looked at each other, bewildered. Whoever this was, remained perfectly still and quiet. I was content with just staying put until they had left, but Will being Will, decided to sneak a glance.
”It’s just some old guy.” he whispered.
”Ok?” I whispered back. ”What is he doing?”
”Not much. He’s just standing there. Look for yourself.”
I hesitated, but ended up taking a peek too.
What I saw was an elderly, skinny man, maybe 70-80 years old, dressed in a weatherworn corduroy suit. His hair and beard was long; white and scraggly. His eyes were vacant, seemingly unaware that he, in fact, wasn’t alone. I hadn’t seen him before and I was pretty sure it was the same case for Will. Judging from his somewhat absent appearance, I almost got the impression that he was lost. I was about to suggest that we say something, when the man all of a sudden started speaking to himself.
”Need to make whole.”
The way he spoke was strained and gravelly, and he kept repeating that phrase over and over again. Without warning, he started walking slowly towards where we were hiding. He got so close that we could smell him. He reeked of old urine mixed with hard liquor. Luckily, he turned when he was within arms reach and then made his way towards the cave entrance. Once there, he went inside. We had no idea what the hell was going on, but we did not dare to move. Instead we waited until the man reappeared carrying a shovel. Seconds later, he started digging around outside the cave and along the treeline. After a while he returned to the cave and once he came out he didn’t have the shovel with him. Then he disappeared into the trees, in the direction he had come from. Just to be on the safe side, we sat put for another 10 minutes or so, before we decided it was safe to emerge. At this point it was dark, so we lit our torches.
Even though we now had light sources, the surrounding woods had transformed under the cloak of night. Will started looking around where the old man had been digging. I did the same. There were small holes spread around in random patterns, without any rhyme or reason. They weren’t very deep, but it was strange all the same. After some time, Will finally said:
”I wonder what he was looking for.”
”Yeah.” I replied. ”Do you have any idea what he was talking about?”
”No idea… something about making something whole?”
We both stood in silence, observing the burrows by our feet and the dark, cavernous entrance. It almost felt as if it was beckoning for us, urging us to step inside. I wanted nothing more than to go home, even if that meant that I would get grounded for at least a week for staying out so late. Will, however, seemed to have been spellbound by its clarion call. His voice sent a cold chill down my spine:
”We can’t leave before taking a quick look.”
”But-” I protested, but got shut down immeditately.
”Come on, Connor. You think it’s going to matter if we just stay out for a couple of more minutes? My dad is probably pissed off already. Let’s just make this quick and then we’ll leave, ok?”
What other options did I have? There was no way that I was going to try and find my way back all alone. So, I did the only thing I could – I accompanied my friend into the pitch-black unknown.
Just beyond the threshold, leaned up against one of the walls of the cave, the shovel stood leaning; the blade still caked with mud. Although not very large, the cave was big enough to allow for us to stand up straight. The innards of Blood Hill was comprised of one single room. In the beams of our flashlights, we saw something laying on the floor. It appeared to be a battered duffelbag. I directed my torch to the right and that’s when I noticed a sleepingbag and a pillow. Resting, on top of the sleeping bag, sat a plastic bag and judging from the smell of alchol, this too belonged to that creepy old guy. I pulled up my shirt to cover my nose while investigating the makeshift sleeping quarters, all the while Will rummaged through the contents of the bag. The walls were jagged, uneven and showed no sign of plant life. A musty, sweet-sour smell lingered in the air – a mix of booze and droppings from the animals that had once used the cavern as their home.
”You really think he lives here?” I said, while studying what appeared to be a very small stalagmite.
”Maybe…” Will said while continuing his search. ”But I think he’s probably the ”Ogre” our parents warned us about. Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s one of those senile, old war veterans. I had an uncle like that once, Greg, you remember him?”
I didn’t, but I didn’t respond and instead let Will carry on:
”Anyway, my point is.. it’s all bullshit. The ghosts, the ogre.. I mean, come on. None of that crap is real.”
”Ok, sure.” I turned to face him. ”But, why?”
He shrugged, still hunched over the dufflebag and glanced over at me: ”Eh.. grown-ups are weird. But nevermind that, look what I found.”
While approaching, I kept my eyes fixed on the entrance, just in case the old man would return. Luckily, we were still alone, but for all I knew, he could very be out there – watching and waiting. Regardless, once I had closed the distance between me and Will, I carefully squatted down next to him, curious as to what he had found.
It was a weathered, brown leather wallet. Apart from that, the bag was filled with dirty clothing. He opened it, exposing a faded receipt and some loose change. Nothing too exciting. That is – until a photo fell out from one of the smaller slots. I picked it up to have a closer look. The photograph was discolored. It depicted a young woman. Judging from her attire, the photo had taken taken during the ”flower power”-era. The girl’s hair was dark, long and somewhat curly, and her eyes were bright green. She smiled at the photographer and yet, somehow (if only for a fleeting moment) it felt like she was smiling at me. She was, for want of a better term, gorgeous. I decided, however, to keep my thoughts to myself and instead turned to Will ready to hand over the picture. That’s when I noticed the look on his face.
His attention was no longer on the dufflebag, not even the photo, but on something else deeper inside the cave. Not only that; his entire demeanor was just ”off”. I could be mistaken, but his face looked as if was drained of all color. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, he got up and gently, yet firmly and without a word, started shoving me towards the entrance. I didn’t argue or put up a fight. So, we made our way to the outside. While advancing I noticed that Will kept throwing random glances over his shoulder. I tried asking him what was up, but he just kept telling me to keep moving. At one point, I squinted my eyes and shot a look into the shadows, but saw absolutely nothing. It was strange. Will was a well-known for being a blabbermouth, so seeing him this way made me feel somewhat uneasy. Thankfully, he seemed to calm down once we started distancing ourselves from that peculiar cave. Oddly enough, he always changed the subject whenever I brought up our findings. Almost as if talking about it somehow freaked him out.
Once we got home, several hours later,Will’s dad reprimanded us for staying out so late. Thankfully, he never went as far as calling the police, although I kinda wish that he had. Either way, as soon as he was finished, we were sent straight to bed. He also made sure that my parents would be hearing about this as soon as they got home. Will was quiet during the scolding and for a while I thought that he would start cracking jokes the moment his dad was out of sight. But to my disbelief, he remained silent while creeping into his bed. I wanted to console him or at least say something, but I was scared that Will’s dad would start yelling at us if he noticed that we were still up.
It took a while before I could relax, mostly because I felt bad for worrying Will’s dad, but also because my friend had been acting weird ever since we returned. Sooner or later, however, I dozed off and managed to sleep through most of the night. There is one instance though, where I think I might have heard something. Still to this day I’m not sure if it was a dream or if it actually happened. Regardless, at some point I think I might’ve heard Will crying.
Next morning my parents picked me up. Although they were informed about my wrongdoings, they didn’t chide me further. I guess they could tell, by the state of my sunken eyes and general demeanor, that it was not needed. Will was fast asleep when I left, so I never got the chance to speak to him until the week after. We never spoke of Blood Hill, the old man or what had scared him so. Life went on. Seasons came and went. Eventually life returned to normal with all of its up’s and down’s. Once we graduated we both left our hometown in search for greener pastures. Will ended up studying journalism in Florida while I pursued a career in engineering in Massachussetts.
The distance between us aside, we made sure to keep in touch and meet up whenever we got the chance. Things were stressful, but good. We both reaped success in our fields. Will managed to land a job at The Orlando Sentinel as a journalist while I started my own company. Our days as reckless kids, embarking on adventures to flee the responsibilities of the adult world, had been over for 20 years. But then one evening roughly, two days ago, Will brought up Blood Hill for the first time in what felt like forever.
Him calling was nothing out of the ordinary. You see, we’ve had this tradition of sorts where we call each other once per week, maybe once every other week. The conversations are, for the most part, mainly for catching up and exchange pleasantries. But I could tell, about 5 minutes in, that something was bothering him.
”Will, I can’t help but feel that something’s going on.”
”Connor, I…” he paused, sighed and then pick up where he left off. ”A couple of days ago I went through our newspaper archive at work.”
”Yeah?” I replied. ”And?”
”I’ll just forward it to your e-mail. Just a sec.”
I could hear him typing away at his computer and a couple of minutes later I saw that I had received an e-mail from him.
”Alright, I got it.” I said, opening the inbox, readying myself. ”Want to tell me what this is about?”
”Just read it, ok? Let me know once you’re done.” And with that, he went silent.
I shook my head, but decided not to press him. Still to this day he tried to find ways to creep me out. It wasn’t the first time that he had shared old articles, reports or photographs, some of which were downright disturbing and that made me question my faith in humanity. I braced myself and opened the file. The caption fit right in with what Will usually would send me, but this one struck a different cord with me; hit home on a far more personal level.
The article in question was written in 1967 and described a gruesome discovery made by two campers in West Virginia. To my shock, it was in the same woods surrounding my old hometown. My hand felt cold and clammy as I started scrolling. The campers had set up camp and started exploring the nearby area when they came upon a hill. Curious, they decided to take a closer look upon which they found the entrance to what seemed to be a cave. They went inside and that is when they found the remnants of a nude female.
Once police got involved it didn’t take long before the cause of death was determined. The woman, who was in her early 20’s, had been sexually abused and finally stabbed to death. I was so disgusted that I had to take a break. In my mind it felt as if the walls of my small office had started to close in on me, making me feel as if I was trapped in a cage. I had to force myself to get out the words:
”This… this can’t be.. are you saying that-”
”Yes. That’s Blood Hill.” Will almost sounded relieved, as if he had been harboring a horrible secret for almost 20 years. Naturally, I asked the most obvious question:
”Did they catch whoever did this?”
He sighed, despondently.
”No. But.. in case you haven’t read the entire thing, I suggest that you do so. It gets stranger.”
”Ok. Hang on.” I replied, returning my attention to the article.
Further down in the article was a picture of a man. Even if he looked much younger, I recognized him instantly. It was ”the ogre”; that weird, greying old man with the shovel. The name underneath the photo read: Wilbur Burke. In his own words: ”I won’t rest until I find the bastard who did this. I urge any and all parents: lock up your daughters!” At the very bottom of the text was one more photo, but not just any photo. It was the very same one we had found in that old dufflebag. The dark, curly hair. The bright, green eyes. That sweet, innocent smile. I read the name attached to her picture out loud:
”Susanne Burke.”
As soon as I had spoken her name, Will’s voice slipped in from the other side of the phone.
”I.. I take it that you’re done reading. Anyway, I did some more digging and.. well, this is what I found out.”
For whatever reason, the newspaper had left out a significant detail; namely, that the perpetrator had severed Susanne’s head and taken it with them. It was never found again. Judging by the state of the corpse, it was first believed that it had been caused by some wild predator. But according to the pathologist the head had been removed using a sawtoothed blade of sorts. I felt mortified; my heart hammering in my chest. Will carried on, his voice matter-of-factly, but I could sense an underlying tinge of terror as he tried to keep his composure.
The day before he contacted me, Will had reached out to his father to see if he could get some info on Wilbur Burke. As stated earlier, we had never seen the guy before apart from that one time. After some prodding, Hank (Will’s father) finally conceded, although somewhat reluctantly. All the rumours and stories regarding Blood Hill were all, not too surprisingly, made up to keep away snooping kids. After the death of his daughter, Wilbur became a shadow of a man. His appearance changed, becoming more disheveled, almost ghoulish and it was only a matter of time before he took to drinking as a way to drown his sorrows. But it wasn’t just Wilbur’s mental and physical well-being that took a beating; his house and property soon fell into disarray as well.
Over the years that followed, Wilbur became somewhat of a recluse – a strange, albeit harmless, drifter. If you came closer enough or crossed his path, you would mostly hear him whisper oddities under his breath while staring vacantly into the distance. Some even said that he was acting more like an animal and less like that of a man. Eventually, Wilbur would abandon his home; the birthplace of his daughter Susanne, and instead seek permanent refuge in the wilderness. Although he had never laid a finger on anyone, people in town were scared of him. To the adults; he was a horrifying reminder of what could happen if a parent lost their child. To us kids; he was an terrifying prescence who resided inside Blood Hill.
It all came to a dramatic end, however, 5 years ago. Someone out of town who was not familiar with the local urban legend, was hiking in the area. Once he came upon the infamous ”Blood Hill”, he made a startling discovery. There, hanging from a tree, hung Wilbur Burke with a noose tightly strapped around his neck. A rusty, old shovel stood upright against the same tree. Strewn across the clearing, both around and underneath the corpse, were 20-something potholes in various shapes and sizes. Hank claimed that no one had any idea what any of it meant, but something tells me that he is lying. He knew damn well what Wilbur was looking for – the one thing that the police couldn’t find.
Will drew a deep sigh and then, with a trembling voice said:
”That night, when we were in that cave, I saw her. I never told you, but I saw Susanne’s headless corpse. It was only for a few seconds, but I swear, man. I… fucking… saw her. She-she was coming towards me..”
I don’t know what’s worse; that Will actually saw a ghost or that there is no one left alive that is actively searching for the one thing that could make Susanne Burke ”whole” again.