Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-31073921-20170221115929

Fire is an odd thing to look at. You see it tamed, on a match or candle, or in a fireplace or engine. But rarely do you ever see it wild, free to burn through wood and oil. I, have seen it firsthand, as my house burned. I awoke in the night to the alarm, and carefully trotted down the steps to see the wildfire in my kitchen. I rushed and awoke my wife and daughter, and they called the police as I got the makeshift ladder we owned. The fire’s warmth was scarring out flesh by the time we had escaped, and my wife and daughter had gone through the window in a rush, with me last. As I placed my feet on the first steps, I looked back to the fire, seeing it freely form through my crumpled bedsheets, and thought how fire was an odd thing. I then rushed down the ladder as another alarm rang, this one distant and from a fire truck a half a mile away. When they got to my house there was nothing much to do. They set out the fire, leaving my house in fourths and smoldering. We got blankets and coffee, and my daughter seemed almost too much in shock to realise that our house was gone. It’s a rough thing to think about. One minute you're sleeping, the next everything you own is a fiery wreck. But we pulled through, as much as we could really. We got some financial support from family and friends, but mostly had enough to cover it. The next day, the earth taunted us, and it rained. We were in the police station, filling out papers, and I looked to see water dripping down from the gutter.

''Drip. Drip. Drip.''

The next few weeks were hard. Living at friends houses, searching for the right place. But we found it, and it just so happened to be near my friend.

“Still looking for a home Jim?”

“Yeah, nothing really pleases the wife or kid.”

“That sucks, you can stay here as long as you want though.”

“Your wife seems to act otherwise, she always seems antsy and even helped us find some open houses in the area.”

''“Ha, seems like her. She show you the one down the street?”''

''“No. There’s a house opening here? I thought we checked.”''

''“Yeah it just opened, damn cheap too. Banks just trying to get rid of it.”''

“Old house?”

''“Bad myth. Boy went missing there a while back. Mother and father died in their sleep, and the other brother inherited it. Ol’ Jack slipped an’ fell, cracking his skull. Poor fellow.”''

“Shit, and after all that?”

''“Well no, that was back in 46’ when he was 12. He was 71 I think.”''

“Oh, well I guess we’ll go check it out?”

“Yeah, just don’t listen to superstition, you’ll end up backing out.”

“Alright Bob, I’m gonna go walk down and check ‘er out.”

And we did. It fit our small price range, and it was good for the cost. We bought it a week later, settling on a price quickly. Jim and his wife came over with a pie for a housewarming ‘party’.

“Well damn Jim, finally got a keeper.”

“That’s what you said when I married.”

*Laughter*

“Mind if we go exploring the property honey?”

“Oh yeah, me and Bess will go check out the kitchen.”

“All right, cmon’ Bob, you gotta see this.”

We walked out and did see it. We got a fourth of an acre, filled with trees and a shed. We looked around, until Bob slipped through a rabbit hole under a bush.

“Aw shit!”

“Bob, are you ok.”

“Yeah I’m fine, just gimme a hand here.”

“Woh, Jim, you didn’t tell me about that.”

“Tell you about what?”

“That!”

I looked over to where Bob pointed. At first glance it didn’t look like anything, until you looked closer. It seemed like a worn out path, surrounded by shrubs and rocks, small rocks, about the size of a grown man's palm. I crawled over. They didn’t say anything about this in the inspection. Bob and I looked at the path. It was old, probably not walked on for years. The crunched dirt now had grass growing through it, and the weeds grew high over the rocks and shrubs, along side the tall grass. We walked along the path, admiring the unkept gardens along the way. After a few yards there was a steep dip, leading down to a circle. We crawled down and reached the end of the path, revealing a small thing. The ‘thing’ was a well. The well looked old, and moss grew from the chipped stones, and water dripped from the splintered wood. On one side of the well there was some carvings.

Jack and Mark 43’

We looked at the markings for a while, but then moved to the well. Inside was a bucket, rusted and jagged, hooked on the side from an unsturdy hook. But that wasn’t what amazed us. What amazed us was the rope on it, it stretched deep down into the well, and seemed to never end as it plummeted into darkness. Carved on a brick to the side was ‘HOW DEEP IS IT’. There was more, but it was cut off from age and moss. I picked up a stone from the side and through it down the well. I didn’t hear a splash. Bob whistled, and exclaimed that we needed to show Bess and Rachel this. Not to my surprise, they didn’t care, and the day continued on. Nearing noon when they left I asked Bob something.

“What was that boy who went missings name?”

''“What? No one went missing around here.”''

“In 46’ I mean.”

“Oh, I think it was Mack or Mike or something.”

“Was it Mark?”

''“Yeah it was, I think it was. How’d you know?”''

''“Just a guess. See you Bob.”''

“See ‘ya.”

The weeks went on as regular, and Jess started 2nd grade, and I started my old teaching job again. It wasn’t until weeks later until something occurred. I woke, and tried to pour some cold water onto my face, to see the faucet didn’t work. When I tried the others, they didn’t work either. I called Bob.

“Hey Bob, is water running for you?”

''“It’s not for you? I thought it would reach that far. Yeah, a pipe burst at the plant, it affected most of us.”''

“Alright well thanks Bob.”

I yawned, and came to the kitchen where Rachel was making breakfast.

“Water’s out.”

''“Yeah, I saw. A pipe burst.”''

''“Well, we’re out of milk, so I guess we need to go get a jug or something. Also I can’t make any coffee for us.”''

''“*Sigh*. Oh wait! We have that well in that back!”''

“Since when?”

“I told you about it at the housewarming.”

“I don’t remember that…”

“I’ll show you, come on!”

I smiled and led her the way to the well. She was mostly awed at the flowers, ignoring the view and rock path. When we got to the dip I presented her the well.

''“Yuck! Look at that bucket, I’m not drinking water from that!”''

“Alright fine, we’ll go get some water.”

She perked up and started walking to the house. I looked at the well again.

Jack and Mark 43’

HOW DEEP IS IT

‘How deep is it? One day I will know.’ I thought I moved on, and didn’t think or hear of the well for another few months.

Jess woke up bright and early that day, because it was the first day of summer. She cheered and got ready for her daily weekend breakfast, a bowl of cocopuffs and cartoons. This was all great, except for the fact that it was 5AM, and I wanted to sleep. I knew that there was no way I would get any sleep, so I walked down stairs and made some coffee, begrudgingly and tired. I walked outside to see the rising sun, and saw Muffins. Muffins was Jess’s cat, which she had gotten for completing 2nd grade with minimal complaining. I chased the white and black speckled cat, and yowled and I tripped on a rabbit hole, the rabbit hole that Bob had tumbled into. I struggled to my feet and looked around, seeing a black tail flowing down the dip. I sprinted over, and saw Muffins looking at the well. His hair stood on edge and he was growling. His hissed, and ran towards me. Surprisingly, instead of running past me, he ran by my side, as if he wanted me to protect him. I picked him up, and looked at the well with a smile. Today was the day. At 7 I called Bob.

“Off today Bob?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Today’s the day.”

''“Today’s the day for what? If the answer’s not ‘Go back to sleep’ I don’t care.”''

“No, today’s the day to see how deep the well realy is.”

There was a pause at the line for a moment.

“I’ll be right over.”

And he hung up.

I saw Rachel getting up too, since she sleeps so deep she probably didn’t even hear Jess.

“Hey I’m going out for the day.”

''“For what? You don’t have work.”''

“I’m going to do some yard work, I’ll be on the path.”

“Alright, be home for dinner.”

And with that I got supplies to start my journey.

Bob came around 8, and we got ready to make our way down the well.

''“Alright, we’re going to tie up the bucket with your rope and drop it. You have the rope right?”''

“Yeah, Here I’ll tie it.”

“Alright, that’s sturdy enough Bob.”

We dropped the bucket in, waiting for a clang or splash. Nothing happened. After a while I said.

“Drop down some more rope.”

And we started to, slower and slower.

''“Jesus Jim, we’re out of rope. This ropes 30 - 40 yards long. What the fuck is up with your well?”''

“I dunno Bob, just bring up the rope.”

So we started to pull the rope forward, to see something I still can’t explain. The bottom of the rope was torn, and the bucket was missing. It didn’t look like a clean cut or a slow rug burn, it looked like someone or something bit it and thrashed it around until it snapped.

''“What the fuck? Dammit Jim I’m going down there, I need to see what the hell is going on.”''

I nodded and gave him a walkie talkie, so he could tell me when he reached the bottom. And I sat by the well and listened.

“Hey Bob, can you hear me?”

''“Yup, loud and clear. Can you hear me?”''

“Yeah, tell me when you make some progress.”

I set down the walkie talkie, and sat with a feeling of joy in my chest that I had felt when I was kid, when I played make believe of pirates sailing the seven seas.

“Hey Jim?”

I fumbled the walkie talkie, and grabbed ahold of it.

“Yeah Bob?”

“There’s scratch marks on the wall.”

''“The hell? See anything yet?”''

“Nope, not even the bottom.”

“Huh, alright how deep are you?”

''“I think I’m 10 feet down, the sun’s not shining down here. I gotta turn on the flashlight.”''

“Ok, try not to trip.”

“Alright.”

I sat by the well and let my mind wander over the field. At one point I checked my watch to see it was 8:27.

“Jim?”

My mind was interrupted and I grabbed the walkie.

“Yeah?”

''“I can’t see without the flashlight now, I think I’m 25 or so feet down. Who the hell builds a well this deep?”''

I paused

“I dunno Bob.”

''“A psycho, that's who builds a well this deep. Jesus, this is ridiculous.”''

“It sure is Bob.”

I sat back and listened to the wind, with a feeling of fear building in my chest. I dismissed it.

“Jim?”

I grabbed my walkie, and unconsciously clutched it to my ear.

“Yeah?”

“I’m fucking scared Jim.”

''“What? Why?”''

''“I hear breathing, deep breathing. I swear to god it’s not mine, I think my minds playing tricks on me.”''

“It’s ok Jim, you can come up now.”

“No, I’m finding how deep this damned well is!”

“It’s just a well Jim, also how deep are you?”

''“Umm, I think I’m 30 to 40 feet down. No wells are this deep Jim. None.”''

“Ok, then -”

“I’m not quitting, it's just a well.”

“*Sigh* Alright then.”

I set the walkie down to my side and looked over the well. I couldn’t see Bob, not even a figure of him. I felt a tingling of fear in my stomach again but dismissed it. After a few minutes the walkie hit static, even though it was made for miles of range. I repeatedly asked for Bob, but there was no answer. The tingling grew intense, and was hard to brush off. I assumed he was coming back up soon and waited. I waited for an hour, but he never came. I’m feeling a mishmosh of guilt and fear, and writing this now because it has got to me. I don’t know what the hell is down there, but I can’t just sit around. Today I go down the well, and probably will never come back.

“Listen Ma’am, just tell us what happened.”

“He - He said he was going to do some yardwork.”

“Did he say anything about Bob Rider?”

“N - No.”

“It’s ok ma’am, we’ll go find him. He probably went off for a beer and got drunk. We’ll find your husband. And you, your Bob Rider’s wife?”

“Yeah.”

“Did he say anything About Jim Sawyer?”

“Yes, he was going over there.”

“Any reason why?”

“No, he just said he’ll be going over to Jim’s”

“Alright, we’ll find him too ma’am, just you wait.”

The officer walks out of the room, with his notes and walks up to the investigator.

“Jesus, those two are hysteric, well one is.”

“Well, they’re husbands did go missing.”

“What do you think happened?”

“Same old story, maybe drunk driving or something. Doesn’t seem to serious.”

“Huh, alright. How long have they been missing for?”

“52 hours, we’ll find them.”

“Alright. Why would the Jim guy lie about doing yard work though? Seemed like the wife wouldn’t of cared.”

The detective takes another puff from his cigar.

“Maybe he didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mark kid went missing a while back there. And a few others. All missing people from that house.”

“So what? The house just ate them?”

“I dunno officer, I dunno.”  