The Cache

It was the type of night where you wanted to be indoors. Fog thicker then forgotten gruel choked the entire island making visibility impossible and sounds inaudible. It was like being caught in a vacuum and Neil wished more than once that he had heeded his old man’s warnings and just stayed home.
Looking at the ground he took three steps before it too was swallowed up by the persistent fog. Cursing he tried not to think about why he was in the woods (or least he hoped he was still in the woods) instead of playing video games and drinking beer with the by’s. Grunting he shifted the weight of the burden on his back on continued to trudge on.
“Has to be close by now...” he muttered to himself and started when something wet and prickly hit his face. Taking a shaky breath he let out another string of curses “Fucking tree!” he finished with and had cause for another as he stumbled on an exposed tree root and fell to his knees.
Getting back up he had a fleeting thought about the stories he had heard about these very woods growing up....of the Hag and other evil creatures just waiting to grab anyone who dared to enter their woods at night without the proper protection of bread or turned inside out garments... “Bull shit!” he said though he said it in that overly zealous way one uses when trying to convince one’s self otherwise.
So, on he went; moving slower as he grew weary and the weight on his shoulders became even greater. “Can’t be far now....” he repeated like a mantra in between curses as he was hit by unseen branches that dropped cold rivulets of water down his shirt and face. Every now and then he would stop to rest or listen as a noise of rustling leaves surrounded him.
Heart pounding he finally felt the rough surface of rock against his shoulder and he knew that the first part of his journey was over. A burning lump formed in his throat and he tried to swallow it down. All he had to do was drop....it... and he could be on his way.
The cave was the perfect spot to hide something no one wanted to be found and Neil defiantly did not want this found. The fear of the woods would only help him to keep it a secret....and if it was found he would be long gone....No one would even know he was guilty. It wasn’t his fault anyways....If only she hadn’t....Best not to think about it.
No longer able to carry it he dropped it to the ground and began to drag it, moving backwards in shuffling steps he found the mouth and hauled it inside. Panting he kept going, wanting to get as far inside as he could to make sure it was a while before it could be discovered by people or animals...if he hadn’t panicked he would have thought to bury ...it....instead of foolishly going into the woods.
A groan emanated from within and he nearly fainted from fright. Just as he realized that it wasn’t coming from anything human the floor gave way and he was falling....
Landing with a thud that knocked the wind out of his lungs Neil rolled over. There was a crunching sound and something sharp poked him in the ribs. As he reached for his lighter he could feel something smooth and cold against his skin. Resisting the urge to jerk his hand away he pulled the lighter out and lit it.
The hiss of the Zippo as it produced the precious glow gave him comfort. A comfort instantly forgotten as in its small sphere of light he saw a yellow dome with two gaping holes and a knowing smile...Hand shaking he moved the little light about and everywhere it landed a more gruesome sight was revealed....countless bodies in various stages of decomposition were littered everywhere and as it moved it came upon his Sarah and her empty brown eyes that were only hours before filled with laughter.....
Terrified he scrambled up the crumbling dirt wall and out into the foggy night. He ran senselessly, driven by the need for safety. The woods were closing in around him....Then he heard his name.
“Neil” it called.
He came to a halt.
No one knew where he was.
“Neil” it called again.
No one at all...
He ran with the conviction that his life depended on his escape from the woods....Some of the bodies were clothed from the old days...the stories were true.......and now he was in one....he tried to take his coat off but something tripped him. For the third time that night he fell. This time he couldn’t break it as his arms were pinned in his coat sleeves causing him to strike a rock.
Blinking against the searing pain in his head and the stinging tears that were falling he tried to get up only to fall back down. Whispers surrounded him as branches shook in a sudden breeze and then all went still. His heart beating and the sound of his heavy breathing were the only thing he could hear. Then laughter high in pitch came at him from all sides.
Prayers he hadn’t uttered since childhood flew from his lips. The laughter increased and he squeezed his eyes shut against it. A great gust of wind blasted him. Screwing up the last of his courage he shook his coat off and scrambled to his feet. Not daring to look at anything but the ground in front of him, he ran as fast as he could.
“Neil! Neil stay! We want to play!” said a thousand voices. All of them a mix of taunts and pleas they raced along side of him. Some even seemed to whisper right in his ear. “Neil! We know what you did!”
The last came as an accusation accompanied with nails raking along his neck, cheek and chest. He screamed. Invisible hands pulled his hair, ripped his clothes and slapped him leaving burning welts along his exposed flesh.
“You killed her, Neil” they screamed at him.
“I’m sorry!” he cried “It was an accident!”
“Liar!” they knocked him to the ground.
“I swear! I never meant to....Please you have to believe me!” he begged.
“You killed her! You killed Sarah, Neil!” they said in disgust.
“Did it feel good? Did it Neil? Did it feel good to knock her around?” they asked.
“It was her fault!” he shouted.
“What did she do?” they asked.
“She knows what I get like when I’m mad!” he explained. “She never should have laughed at me...” He waited. Nothing happened.
Relief flooded over him and he moved swiftly through the trees. If he didn’t have to keep Sarah’s body a secret he would have one hell of a tale to share at Mike’s bar...the man who went into Doucette’s woods and came out alive.....
Just ahead he could see a faint orange glow from the street light...the fog was starting to dissipate and he’d have a clear drive home. A twig snapped behind him and he paused. Then he laughed. The fairies had let him go! He had nothing to worry about! Hell; they thought it was Sarah’s fault too. Stupid bitch knew better, he had warned her time and time again.....
Something moved to his right. Glancing down he saw a pair of dark eyes looking up at him. A shiver ran down his spine. “Sarah?” he asked in disbelief.
The fog lifted and the moon shone down upon him.
“Hello, Neil” it said and he screamed as it crawled out of the bushes. He never stopped screaming until it ripped his throat out.
Wynter jerked awake and with a pounding heart got up to look in her vanity mirror. Scratches, long angry red ones ran along her throat and down to her chest seeping blood in their wake. Grabbing some tissues she dabbed at them and waited for the phone call she knew would come. Outside the fog pressed against the glass and dimmed the glow of her orange street light.
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