Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24445290-20141013005726

It’s Just a Legend

All rights of this story go to Wyatt Boinske

There’s an old Native American legend of a nomad woman by the name of “Sicha Wanagi”, known to wander the forests of The Pacific states on rainy nights. She wears a bear skin with three crow feathers in between the strands of her silk-like black hair. Long ago, legend has it, she was struck with the remorse of losing her three children and her sacred village in a raid. Now, with the loss of her loved ones, she spends her time stalking children and dragging them away never to be seen again.

Jason darted through his damp, somber surroundings. An owl began to hoot as the tree’s countless branches blocked the moonlight from reaching the gloomy moss-covered forest floor. Scratches and small cuts began to appear on his skin due to the dense foliage he glided through with ease. The rain pierced the canopy above, thunder and lightning accompanying each individual drop. He had not the slightest idea of how distant his camp was nor was he aware that he was still being followed, by something. A faint smile grew across his face as he saw his friend, Davis, still accompanying him. Their breaths grew heavier and heavier as Jason looked back and slowed, eventually to a halt. A thump was felt reverberating through the ground beneath Jason’s muddy shoes. Davis had tripped on a tree root precariously sticking out of the dirt, and on landing he had bashed his leg into a jagged rock inconspicuously resting on a bed of leaves. Jason saw his friend’s face covered in mud and hopeless tears. He reassured him everything would be fine but that was an utter lie. Jason immediately scanned the vicinity to see if she was still pursuing them. They were situated in a small depression in the landscape surrounded by trees and heavy brush. She was watching them. Carefully looking into their eyes from afar. She knew it was time. Slowly… she crept through following Jason’s footsteps. In the distance Jason and Davis both saw her approaching them; the woman who had been following them ever since they dared to enter the dense and unforgiving Wenatchee forest, evilly grinning as she saw Davis helplessly lying on the ground unable to move. Jason remembered when he had heard stories by the campfire of the crypts that lurked these cursed woods. Before the two could even blink, there she was, standing right before them. She was an unbelievably tall slender woman, blocking out the first light of dawn. An animal skin sagged over her wrinkled back and three feathers protruded out of her long hair. She wore a grin for the few seconds as she stared directly into Jason’s verdant eyes. She grabbed his defenseless friend, and hoisted him into her arms. Jason shared his respective glares with his friend and in a split second he ran, still looking back seeing his desperate friend grasped in between the woman’s hands.

“Please, help me! Why?” he cried as he was carried away deep in to the forest, but Jason didn’t give the slightest attention to him. He only ran faster knowing he was safe. Was it the right choice? How would he have helped? Jason felt excruciating guilt, but finally, he let out a quiet sigh of relief as a dim light and a few voices escorted him to the campground. Davis’s helpless whimpers could still be heard dissipating into the forest as Jason reluctantly looked back to find nothing, but his mud filled tracks disappearing in the morning mist.

He emerged from the dense foliage to be greeted by his fellow bunk mates encircling a large bonfire, talking amongst themselves. The heavy August rains had died off into a light drizzle. A familiar voice perked up throughout the crowd.

“Where is Davis? Didn’t he go with you on your hike?” Pudge inquired. Jason broke down into tears knowing he would have to tell them about his sickening hike into the Wenatchee State Forest.

“He’s still out there, he was taken by… I don’t know. This thing, she took him. When we decided to go for a hike at about five-thirty in the morning, I started feeling different. When I stepped onto the trail I felt a sense of regret. We were about half a mile in the forest when I told Davis I was going to go to the bathroom, but I didn’t. I went to look around off of the trail. I found a weird shrine with strange characters printed on it and then I heard Davis’s piercing scream. I ran a quickly as I could to him and a tall old lady had stood in front of him. We ran about three-quarters of the way there and then Davis tripped and fell into a rock. I think he sprained his ankle or even broke his leg and then the women we had seen came over, took Davis, then she limped back into the ominous forest. I feel so guilty, but what could I have done?” Jason whimpered. Then the crowd was silent. A scream could be heard echoing throughout the wet valley and Jason knew it was Davis. The people around the scalding bonfire became weary and unrest. Jason’s bunk counselor had approached the fire curious of what was going on after eavesdropping on the campers’ conversation.

“Is everybody alright?” he questioned the crowd

“Yes.” they informed. His name was Johnny Preston. He had recently had a divorce with his wife and moved to the “tranquil” state of Washington from Alabama. He called everyone to the mess hall along with the other counselors of Camp Wenatchee to discuss this discrepancy and soon called the police. Once everybody was in the mess-hall Jason had met up with his friends in the camp. No one was allowed in or out of the building until this dispute was sorted out. The rains grew heavier with bursts of lightning striking trees in the forest as Jason and his group hatched a plan.

Jason’s friends all shared the Boys’ C Cabin, except for Katie Savage and Stephanie Emmet. His friends had origins around the world like Sol Ziv Östberg. His mom was born in Israel and his Grandmother was Imprisoned Auschwitz during World War II. Shrinivas Nithya Nagarkar was another of his friends. He was born in India and came here to meet with relatives and stay for a while. The campers gave Sol Ziv Östberg the nickname “Solziv” and Shrinivas Nithya Nagarkar the nickname “Shrini”. Jerome S. Thompson’s great great Grandmother was a slave to Katie Savage’s great great great Grandfather in the plantations north of New Orleans. Robert Lu was from China. His family made it rich by starting the Sea Borge oil company after they came to the US in the 1850’s. He could play about seven instruments and he’s been taking college classes since he was thirteen. Pudge was a local in Washington like Jason. They both went to the same high school and were in ninth grade. Then there was Davis. No one knew much about Davis, as he was quiet and reserved. Nobody even knew his first name. He just went by his last name, Davis. He only ever talked to Pudge or Jason. In the mornings he lay awake in bed crying, but nobody knew why. A rumor was going around the camp that Davis’s dad was convict who had beaten him and his mom at a young age and was ashamed to share a name with his honorless father. Everyone was pressuring Jason to talk about where Davis was and what occurred in the woods that morning.

“Where is he? What happened out there? Is he dead?” The group asked. That last question infuriated Jason. He yelled at the others crying

“He’s fine. I couldn’t help, I just couldn’t.” Pudge was especially concerned about Davis since he was his half-brother, although he still did not know much about Davis’s father. Just as Jason was going to answer another question from his rowdy group of friends Counselor Preston and Maggie came by ordering Jason to come with them.

“Hi Jason!” We would just like to ask you a few questions about your friend’s kidnapping.” Jason looked at Preston to see his nod of approval since he was the only counselor Jason really trusted. He despised Counselor Maggie. He thought she was “too happy”. While walking in the hallway Jason saw two Ford Crown Victoria’s sitting in the camp’s dirt parking lot with police officers emerging from them. He recognized one of them. It was his father, Frank Holmes. Jason, ignoring the counselors, rushed out of the hallway, to the car to hug his father he hadn’t seen in about two weeks.

“Jason! Nice to see you sport.” Yelled his father as Jason ran in to hug him

“We’ll need to ask you a few questions about your friend Davis.”

“Okay dad. I missed you. Glad to see you again!” Jason’s father and his patrol buddy Dennis brought him to a small room connected to the mess-hall. They sat down in rigid metal chairs and proceeded to ask Jason questions.

“What time did you start your hike Jason?”

“About 5:30 in the morning, near sunrise.”

“When did you notice this thing following you in the woods?”

“Davis saw it first, ‘bout half a mile into the hike after we saw this weird shrine stone on the ground. We ran as fast as we could, but the thing kept following us until Davis had tripped so it dragged him into the woods. That was at nearly 6:00 AM.”

“Were there any characteristics that stuck out to you?”

“Well, I’m sure it was a woman. She was about 6 ft. tall with a round face, squinty eyes, wrinkled skin and extremely long silk like black hair. I think she was possibly Native American. There are many reservations here in Washington State. Her defining feature that made me think she was a Native American is that she was wearing a large Grizzly Bear skin on her back and three feathers in her hair.”

“Did she talk to you?”

“No, although I think she whispered something into Davis’s ear, “you’re mine” or something like that.”

“That’s all I need son. Thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome dad.”

It was a few hours after the incident and the campers met to eat breakfast as the police left to process the information given by Jason. The breakfast was repulsive, and disgusting at it’s best. The nauseas fumes traveled up peoples’ nostrils causing headaches and vomiting. Jason arrived at his clique’s table absent of a breakfast.

“I think I’ll skip eating this time.” Jason explained. Everyone nodded at his statement except Stephanie while she slopped down her second moldy pancake.

“So what did they say?” Shrini questioned in his heavy Indian Accent

“My Father and Dennis asked me about my hike and the kidnapper’s description”

“Let’s hear it” they demanded. Jason spent at least ten minutes thoroughly discussing the abduction in much detail.

“Do you think he will be ok?” Pudge inquired

“Don’t know. But if the police don’t start searching soon we will have to take matters into our own hands and use our plan.”

It was five in the evening, almost twelve hours after the hike. The group had been in the C cabin for most of the day as the camp had been on lockdown. Luckily, the C cabin was the only cabin to have a TV in it, since it had housed mostly teenage boys who were thought to be mature enough to handle the excitement of a TV at summer camp. The sky had darkened and again, a heavy August rain had begun. Stephanie and Katie sneaked into the cabin as they were told to by Jason and his friends.

“What took you so long?”

“Well, we had to wait until Counselor Maggie left our cabin until we could sneak out,

which took a while since she runs her mouth too damn much.”

“Hey, there is no cursing in this cabin!” Solziv chuckled. Counselor Preston welcomed the girls while holding a bottle of Kentucky bourbon he had snuck into the camp. On the TV, the News was turned on to see if any details came out involving Davis’s kidnapping.

“Tonight on Washington News” the TV boomed.

“Charles A. Davis a teenage boy at Camp Wenatchee was kidnapped in the early morning on August 13th.” When almost all hopes were lost of finding Davis the news the news loudly exclaimed

“Our field reporters have gained more info on this tragic story. Apparently a garment of his was found On Salem Cave Rd”. The site is under heavy investigation.”  A bolt of lightning cracked the sky as the lights flickered, than the power fully went out. The winds howled and spruce trees could be heard falling in the distance. Rain battered the cabin as a knock was heard on the door. Jason opened it to find his father.

“Hi Son.”

“How’s it going dad. Why are you here? “I just want to warn you about going outside during this rain. Stay in this cabin son please. It’s dangerous out there.” Jason’s father handed him a walkie-talkie.

“If there is any trouble or you need to go outside just call be on this and I will surely answer.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“You’re welcome son” he replied as he sprinted away under the rain

“Does everyone remember the plan?” Jason ignored his father’s warning and continued to conspire about their plan to save Davis.

“Yes ‘sir.” They responded

“First we’ll get some sleep and around midnight we will prepare for our expedition and leave the cabin. Counselor Preston will leave when we go to sleep and get the raincoats, flashlights, rifles, flare guns, and first aid kits that the camp keeps in the supply shed across from the mess hall. When we get up there will be no playing around. We will sleep dressed so no time will be wasted. Preston will be staying at the C Cabin on watch after our departure. We are heading up Salem Cave Rd where Police found the garment. Understood?”

“Do you think we will find him, Jason?” Pudge questioned.

“Yes, I really do.” And when each camper crawled into their beds, Counselor Preston headed to the supply shed to “borrow” the much needed supplies.

Jason woke up in a sweat. The time read 12:00 AM on his digital clock. He got up and looked out the window. Strangely, he saw Davis running towards the cabin looking somewhat frightened. He fisted his eyes a bit but still saw him. He stepped back when he saw Davis banging upon the window yelling. Behind him was the lady who had kidnapped Davis slowly creeping towards him. Davis as he was knocking on it with all of his might trying to get someone’s attention. Jason wanted to open it, but he was scared. She then ran up to Davis from behind and grabbed him and then dragged him away in the direction of Salem Cave Rd. Pudge jumped up out of his bed beamed a flash light directly into Jason’s eyes.

“Did you see that Pudge?”

“No, what was it?”

“Never mind.” Everyone woke up with a groan, got dressed and headed towards the door. Each camper equipped themselves with the needed supplies. Pudge and Jason, being the oldest of the group received the .223 Remington Rifles and led the group out of the cabin. The land was devastated from the pacific storm battering Washington State. An eerie silence accompanied the group on their trek with only the occasional howl of the wind or burst of rain breaking it. They easily glided through the camp without disrupting anybody’s sleep to avoid complications. The forest was dark and depressing. Rain trickled into petit mud filled puddles. An owl could be heard throughout the forest, almost as if it were warning them for, something. No one talked in their group. Each person hobbled lifelessly forward. They thought they would never find their friend Davis. In the midst of failure a sign appeared behind the mist, glaring. The flash light beam dissipated throughout the mist, but the words were fairly easy to distinguish. It indicated Salem Cave Rd was just a mile away. The group now had a sliver of hope. They finally got to the road and soon thereafter Pudge stepped on a blue shirt.

“I’m almost certain this shirt is his.” He exclaimed. Immediately after Davis’s supposed shirt was found a mysterious women appeared behind them. “Come with me.” She offered, in an eerie tone.

“Where’s our friend Davis?” She did not answer and she was not reluctant to approach them. One shot was fired from Jason’s rifle as she vanished in the heavy fog. They decided to keep moving on, but with a careful eye on their surroundings. Solziv spotted a track of footprints trailing deeper in the gloomy Wenatchee State Forest.

“Look over here guys. I found something.” he shouted. The group decided to follow the clue and soon came to a dead end. A miniscule sign printed “SALEM CAVE THIS WAY”

“Let’s go spelunking!” Robert said joyfully. The eight teenagers trailed deeper into the depths of the cave not knowing they were being followed. Their only light source was an LED flashlight producing an insufficient amount of light. The batteries died, but the quiet the whimpers and cries of Davis could be heard. Everyone joyfully ran into the darkness of the cave where Davis lay. Jason turned on the walkie-talkie and joyfully exclaimed

“We found Davis, Dad!”

Shyly, Davis mumbled to the group, something unintelligible. Than clearly he stated in a frail monotonous voice, “She’s, she’s… right behind you.”, as his pointed his bony finger behind the group of weary campers.

A police report was filed later that day of the missing teenagers and stolen supplies from Camp Wenatchee. After many days of searching the police gave up. Even Jason’s father lost all hope after the countless days of searching the endless Wenatchee State Forest. The heavy rains continued, causing the collapse of Salem Cave. The road is now overgrown and no traces of the cave are left, but some say if you go out there on a rainy night you can still hear the whimpers of those young campers. It’s just a legend though. 