Jake sat bolt upright with a start. The horses were neighing as loud as they could. He blinked and looked around in bed, trying to get his bearings. His eyes were open, but he wasn't quite awake enough yet to know what was going on. The cows mooed loudly.
Jake flopped back onto the pillow and let his heart calm down from the jolt. The animals kept making a racket outside. He looked over at the alarm clock, it was a little after two in the morning. He rubbed his eyes. He really didn't want to get up out of bed and see what was going on, but he figured that he had better. He would have been getting up in another two hours anyway, so he wasn't missing that much sleep. Besides, if the animals kept carrying on he wouldn't get any more sleep at all. Best to check on them, shut them up, and get back to bed.
He turned over and kissed his wife on the cheek. "I'm going to go check on the animals," he whispered softly into her ear. She responded by emitting a low murmur and burying her head deep into the pillow. She had always been a very sound sleeper.
Jake crawled out of bed and threw on his clothes. Probably a raccoon hissing at the horses outside and freaked 'em out. Aw hell, maybe it was a skunk. I don't want to have to scrub anything down. Jake grimaced as he walked down the stairs. A skunk had gotten into the barn a few months ago and sprayed one of the horses. It took two weeks for the stink to dissipate.
Downstairs, he flipped on the exterior light and stepped out onto the porch. He grabbed his boots from next to the door and sat down on the front steps to lace them up. There was still a heck of a racket coming from the barn, but nothing looked out of the ordinary, at least not from where he was sitting.
Well, one thing looked out of the ordinary. Most of the barn cats were outside. A few were perched up on a fence, some were sitting in the driveway, a couple were fighting with each other. The cats hardly ever left the barn, and it was definitely odd that they would have now. Jake sighed. Well, at least something's gotta be going on to run the cats out. So I'm not getting dragged out of bed for nothing.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and trudged down the gravel driveway to the barn door. Cold air filled his lungs and his breath was steamy. He longed to be back in bed where it was nice and warm, but he knew this had to get taken care of. One of the horses in particular seemed to be neighing an awful lot.
Reaching the barn, he undid the latch and slowly opened the large door enough to get in. No animals came rushing out, so that was good at least. They must be still in their pens. He pushed the door open farther to let more light in as he looked for the switch to turn on the inside lights.
As the old, yellow lights slowly dribbled on, he saw how much of a mess the barn had become. Hay and manure had been kicked up everywhere. The animals were bleating and got louder once they saw he was there. Several of the horses ran immediately to their exterior door and started banging their heads into it, demanding to be let out.
Normally, he didn't let them out to run unattended in the dark for fear of their safety. He knew how much they could run and buck when they were playing and they'd come close enough to falling into the holes the prairie dogs kept making. In the dark they'd have no way to see them and would be in much more danger. But, still, since they were so anxious to get out, he figured it'd probably be better. They were sure to hurt themselves inside, crashing into the wall; one of them falling into a gopher hole was much less of a certainty.
He hopped over the internal fence and made his way through them to the external door. They galloped off into the darkness as soon as he had the door even slightly open, neighing the whole time as they went.
Back inside, the cows didn't quite know what to do, some were standing about shaking, others were mooing frantically, another was butting her head against the door just as the horses had been. He figured he might as well let the cows out as well, if they were so spooked like this they might start giving sour milk. Besides, it was much of a concern letting the cows out at night, since they liked to spend most of their time lying about anyway.
From all around him, a low hollow voice wafted out, "I....".
Jake froze where he was, halfway up the fence to the cows' pen. His eyes flittered about as he tried to figure out where the voice had come from. He hopped off the fence and turned around. He was greeted by silence.
"Hello? Who's there?" Jake called out in no direction in particular. No one answered.
I must be hearing things. Jake shook his head as he climbed back up the fence to the cows. Gotta be the wind blowing through here. He hopped down into the pen and opened the gate, riding it out of the way of the cows who practically stampeded out once they saw an escape route.They got about fifteen feet out from the barn and seemed to calm down. In under a minute, most of them were lying down again, occasionally letting out a contented moo.
He walked back into the barn to survey things and see if he could figure out what had spooked them so much. The hollow voice returned, slightly louder and more defined. "I...am..." It was deeper than before.
Jake took a quick survey of the place, everything was disheveled from the animals carrying on and he couldn't tell if anyone else was in the place. The boards creaked underneath him and he chalked the voice up to his imagination. He had, after all, been roused from sleep by the animals and probably still wasn't fully awake yet.
He grabbed the shovel that was hanging on the far wall and tossed it into the cart that was parked beside it. He wheeled the thing over to the middle of the floor and started shoveling up the mess that the animals had made. No point in going back to bed now, this is gonna take at least an hour. I've got to take a nap this afternoon, though.
The cart filled up fast and he propped the shovel up against a support pole. He turned back to his work and was about to haul the cart outside to empty it, when the old voice echoed through the building again. "I...am...become..." It was old and cracked with age.
Jake knew that he wasn't imagining things anymore. He tossed down the shovel and grabbed the pitchfork instead, determined to defend himself from whoever was there. He figured it was probably just some neighbor kids screwing around, but he didn't want to take any chances. Besides, he had put a lot of effort into his "crazy old farmer" look for these occasions and he was determined to use it. Best to give the kids a scare and make sure they don't come back.
Methodically, he worked his way through the ground floor, climbing into each animal's pen and inspecting it. He tossed the loose hay around with the pitchfork, trying to be careful not to skewer anyone that may be hiding underneath. But he didn't find anything. No one was there and nothing looked out of the ordinary other than the fact that it was a terrible mess. If there was someone in the barn, he'd have to be in the loft.
"I am become...thinking." The voice boomed out again, shaking the floor and the walls. Oh, this joker's rich. He must have a bullhorn or something. He's gotta be up in the loft using it to echo through the place. No wonder the damn animals got so riled up.
Jake stood at the base of the ladder and peered up at the loft above. "Okay, I'm coming up! And I've got a gun! How about you just come down here right now, and we all save ourselves some trouble?" Jake waited patiently for an answer, but got none. Okay, suit yourself. I did warn you, buddy. Holding onto the pitchfork with one hand, he slowly worked his way to the top.
When he reached the loft, he cautiously peered over the edge, hoping to spot whoever was there before he saw him. But there was no activity. The loft was easily the best place in the barn to hide, since that's where he kept the hay bales. Lots of places to hide behind and jump out at someone.
"I am become...living."
It sure didn't sound like a kids voice. It sounded like an old man, but what in the world would an old man be doing hiding in his barn at 2 am spooking his animals?
Jake pulled himself up into the loft and surveyed it. Hay everywhere, no sign of activity. He cautiously crept up to the first stack of bales and pushed them over. They landed with no more than a soft rustle. No yelps or confusion or anything. There didn't appear to have been anyone behind it.
He crept along between the bales, straining to hear any sound that might give away a hiding place - Breathing, boards creaking, laughter, anything. But only the sounds of the old barn came to him.
"Gotcha!" Jake jumped around the edge of a stack of bales, brandishing his pitchfork. No one was there. He was hoping he'd get lucky and catch the culprit. But, as he searched through the hay, it became more clear to him that he was the only one up there. Further, as best as he could tell, he was the only one in the barn.
"I am become thinking."
"Okay, I give up! Where are you? You've had your fun, now show yourself." Jake was angry, but tried to hide it behind mere exasperation. Best to convince them that they their joke had been a success so they'd reveal themselves and leave.
"I am...confused. I am...all."
"What the hell are you talking about? Where are you? What's your name? What are you doing here?"
"I am become...as are called by you..." The wind blew heavier through the barn as the voice cracked and labored. "As are called by you...barn."
"Oh, you're the barn are you? Give me a break." Jake shook his head and clenched his fist. "The least you could do is claim to be the ghost of my dead grandfather. Or an indian haunting this place. Or something. The barn. Get real."
Angry, and not knowing was else to do, Jake threw the pitchfork down off the loft. It flew straight and embedded itself in the floor below. Almost as soon as it hit, a great scream welled up around him. The wind blew fiercely, the doors slammed in and out, hay got whipped all about.
"I am become pained." The voice had changed to a sad moan, seeminly almost on the brink of tears. "I am become pained. I am become pained. I am become pained." It wailed over and over.
Jake froze where he was at the top of the loft, watching the shutters slam and hearing the wind blow and the voice bellow. If this was some sort of practical joke, it was a damn good one. Jake's face went blank. Of course, if it wasn't a practical joke, if it was actually happening. That would explain why the animals were so spooked, could it be that Ñ
He didn't let the thought fully gel in his mind before he was started scampering down the ladder, in more of a controlled fall than an actual climb. Splinters cut up his hands and embedded in his palms. The voice moaned on around him. He dropped the last five rungs and hit the ground hard. He collapsed on his back, but picked himself up almost instantly.
The wailing stopped as more doors slammed shut. The shutters up above closed; the exterior doors to the animals pens slammed. The only open exit left was the main entrance. Jake paused for a moment, considering going to one of the closer doors and trying to force it open, but opted for the longer, clearer run.
"You are become hurter of I."
Jake tried to block the voice out as it boomed in around him. It was louder down here, certainly much louder than when he first heard it. The barn seemed bigger too, the run to the door was a long one, longer than usual. He frantically pushed his legs, rushing the door.
"I am become thinking. I am become living. I am become injured." The hollow voice sounded like more of a chant now than a wail, just repeating its phrases over and over. Jake was almost at the door.
"I am become injured. I am become..."
It was just a few more feet and he'd be outside and safe.
"I am become", the barn finished, "hungry."
The massive front barn doors slammed shut in front of him, forcing him back into the barn. He called out for help, but his own voice was drowned out by the newly living being which he was suddenly trapped inside of.
"You are become...food."
| 10/24/2006 | The Seventh Story of the House |
| 10/21/2006 | The Sixth Story of the House |
| 10/13/2006 | The Fifth Story of the House |
| 10/04/2006 | The Fourth Story of the House |
| 10/03/2006 | The Third Story of the House |
| 10/02/2006 | The Second Story of the House |
| 10/01/2006 | The First Story of the House |
| 10/01/2004 | It's Your Turn |
| 10/02/2003 | The Experiment |
| 10/02/2003 | The Stain |
| 10/02/2003 | The Recorder |
| 10/02/2003 | The Secret Room |
| 10/02/2003 | Why you should always carry tools |
| 10/02/2003 | The Solicitor |
| 10/02/2003 | The Picnic |
| 10/02/2003 | Moving Day |
| 10/02/2003 | The Very Short Life of a Fat Man |
| 10/02/2003 | Life on a Farm |
| 10/02/2003 | The Mooresbury Men |
| 10/02/2003 | A Better Killer |
| 10/02/2003 | Scary Noises |
| 02/01/2003 | The Wind Blows In My Heart... |
| 01/15/2003 | I Am The Goddess |
| 01/15/2003 | Freak |
| 01/12/2003 | They Won't Be Coming Back |
| 01/12/2003 | Bugs |
