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Story Leg
The Demon Wanderer of the Hollows - A story based in Western, Massachusetts
Prolog
So my friends, as we march fourth in our never ending world of technical wonder and prowess.
Let us remember there are still mysteries out there and yes, even in our old age we learn there are things that do go bump in the night.
If you’re ever in Southampton MA, along the Old College Highway keep your eyes wide open and keep close watch on your soul.
The Village
In the small sleepy village of Southampton, Massachusetts stirs a hollow along the Manhan River. This is a small river no more than 10.9 miles long in Western Massachusetts, but a river no less.
The village of Southampton like all New England villages is dotted with white houses, quaint historical areas, some old saw mills and yes, the hollow. This is where my story begins.
Each night for many months during the summer, I would bike along the Route 10 stretch, better known as College Highway to the locals. I have always found it very ironic that there is not one college located upon this path.
As the summer wore on, it began to cool and dutifully after my family was in bed I started to ride. The sky was a speckled with brilliant stars and never ending clarity that only a New England night can give you. The air was brisk, with the crisp air sending shards of coolness to my lungs. The night was perfect.
My typical path was about a 5-7 mile loop and this night was no different. My speed was excellent and my heart raced as my legs pumped strong and true. About 3 miles into my trip my heart and stomach sank and repulsed with fear. I had the uneasy feeling I was being watched or followed in some manner. My mind I thought must be playing tricks on me, maybe it was one to many Steven King books, maybe it was just a stressful day of working on some never ending software project, maybe is was just foolishness.
But like a child caught in the dark, the fear grew with every rotation of my pedals. What was happening to me, I thought out loud. Now at 4 miles, the road became much darker than I recall, and not one car drove by. Normally I dread the teenagers racing by, but not tonight, there was just silence. Mile 5 and still no cars and my feet become sluggish, almost like lead weight had some how attached to the lower portions of my feet. Every effort a struggle to go on, every breath a burning fire within, for God sake what is wrong with me?
As my bike accelerated past the old farms houses I entered the hollow, just where the Manhan river crosses route 10. Two eyes about 4 feet off the ground shined back with the light of a 1000 moons. In a flash, I was struck with an overwhelming sense of relief that I was not crazy and fear upon what I was seeing.
The creature looked like a tiger you see on the discovery channel, but with a scrappier, rough cut cat like face. It’s blood lust shown through its whiskers like protrusions, only to be superseded by its ravenous set of teeth.
As it stared blankly at me, it green eyes blazing, I could feel my soul being drawn from my body, but it was not my soul it wanted. No, it was not that, it wanted me for a late night feeding. My legs pumped with the might of good old Hercules, my heart raced and my blood pumped relentlessly to every muscle. I tuned once to see the green eyes following me on the edge of the woods and panic set in. Just then a tractor trailer, with the words Harley Davidson of Southampton rushed by with a mighty roar.
The creature vanished, not word, no sound, no grand exit, it just vanished. I did not let up until I made it back to my house a few miles away.
That night, my dreams were haunted and engulfed by the beasts’ eyes. The restless abandon of the beast was evident even in my sleep. I awoke in a cold sweet, shivering, shaking like a newborn coming from the darkness only to find I was still sleeping. I could tell this by the fact I was starting to fly, and down below I could see my body, my helpless body, sprawled out like I had cut a forest of lumber.
What happened next was beyond reality, I was being flown, no carried back to Old College Highway. The street lights went by like shooting star’s the road looks like solid lines on a maze.
I was being flown back to the God dammed hollow. Instead of fear, my eyes filled with rage, rage for my family, rage for my freedom. And there I stood, I was back in the hollow. Suddenly the eyes appeared from the wood line, they looked like green lightening gazing deep within my eyes. Then I was awake.
The next day passed with me feeling rather silly of my dreams and thinking how much I felt like a young child afraid of the boogie man.
Once again when night came and my family was asleep I started out on my bike. This time I was feeling rather at peace and going along at a rather fast clip down the Old College Highway. Soon I was upon the hollow and I felt nothing out of sorts. “All is well”, I thought to myself. Then as I was cresting up the hill I heard a deep barking growl and a sudden bang against the guard rail. My heart raced as I pumped with all my might and did not look back till I was home.
Later that night my friend was flying in from the West Coast and we gathered as we do every year by a midnight fire. I told him of my tale and they only laughed, I guess I did to. That night we had some beers and told stories of the old days on the Cape where we would walk 12 miles a day to get to work only to bus tables for 12 more hours. It felt good. At some point I can’t recall exactly when, my friend lit a cigarette and we stepped out of the light of the fire to talk. At that moment through the wood line we heard what could only be described as a daemon scream. It continued on and loud for what seem like a life time, and my heart sank. I asked him, “Did you hear that?” And he concurred.
For a moment I was thinking it was a practical joke played by his brothers but he insisted it was not. Then we heard the crunching of sticks, the movement of legs, the sounds of the beast. Both of us moved slowly, watching like soldiers in a war, then It was gone.
That night we talked and talked about what had occurred but to this day I have no explanation. I have never again seen or heard the beast that lives along the Manhan River from Southampton to Westhampton Ma, but I assure you my friends there a beast lies.
Take this tale as you will , perhaps the babbling of an old man but no matter how much we think we understand the world some things are still a mystery .
About the Author
"Many time we find or selves with nothing to do but speak out and raise our voices in the hope that it shall be heard. "
if you jump off a 80 story buildin will you only break you leg?
Since you would impact the ground at between 140 and 180 miles per hour I am sure your leg is not all you would break.
Limiting yourself to jumping off an 8 story building would have the same effect.
If you land on the ground you are going to die.
Leg amputation: real story