Accession Number 1910.3.7
The passage you are about to read was discovered among the ruins of an abandoned cabin tucked among the prairie plains of South Dakota. The cabin was believed to have fallen into ruin due to a fire of unknown origins. Amongst further examination of the surrounding area, a burial site was discovered in the hills behind the home. The grave had been previously exhumed though a pair of weathered boots remained. The passage along with several other items have been logged and preserved by the South Dakota State Historical Society. Though there is no date or author affiliated with the passage, historians believe the parchment used dates between 1865-1892. The cabin where the parchment was discovered was later demolished due to the inability for restoration. There are no records of the cabin’s inhabitants, but upon further investigation conducted by SDSHS much care was given to the land, leading historians to believe the family that accommodated this plot thrived for several decades.
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Author: Unknown
How many years have passed, Gerald? How many sunrises have come and gone? Sunsets? Do you remember these plains? ‘An ocean of land’, you once called it. And on days when the sky was so blue, without a cloud to be seen, you’d say the world was upside down…That the real ocean was above our heads. I didn’t think that made much sense. Still don’t. But then you’d smile. Oh, and that smile made me smile. I dream about you and that smile. Most every night now. I also dream you’ve been awake in that wooden box this whole time. Is that true? Cause I dream of your unrest. The empty feeling of eternity you must feel. Layin’ in the smell of your own rot. I dream that your clothes have long since decayed. That only tattered bits of them remain. I dream of your skin. Stretched tight across your bones. Like a thin sheet of leather. Covered in spores of mold. I dream your lips have rotted away. But that smile, oh, that smile remains…I even dream about your feet. How they must’ve shriveled up by now. I’m bettin’ them precious boots your buried with down there don’t fit much now, do they? And to think of what we could’ve done with all that money. Cept puttin’ it in a hole. But that’s neither here nor there.
I dream that you still feel. Still smell. Still see. But in all that dark layin’ over your eyes like a thick wool blanket, you can’t tell no more, can you? Gives me gooseflesh just thinkin’ bout it. I dream you crooked your arm to your chest. That you scratched at the wood till your fingers whittled down to claws. I dream that all them rains we’ve had over the years soaked the ground up real good. Lettin’ chunks of mud and worms wiggle through them gaps you made tryin’ to claw your way out. I dream you’ve become one with them worms too, haven’t you? I’m bettin’ they’ve nestled their way into every part of you. Chewin’ you up and breedin’ into tiny villages between your meat and bones. Just like that dead coyote we found…You remember that? All covered in maggots and mold. Remember him? Remember shoving my face into his bloated belly? Remember laughin’ at me? Laughin’ with that smile? Laughin’ while I cried? Anyway…
Did you feel it today? The ground shift beneath you? Did you feel the rumble from the earth? Did it remind you you’re still alive down there? Or have you been alone so long with all them thoughts…you’re just spinnin’ in an endless dream? Relivin’ such joys. Such pains. Every old memory made present…For all eternity.
I dream that one day the ground will surge. That it’ll push you closer to the surface. Like cuttin’ you from an anchor from the bottom of the river. Lettin’ you rise. And rise. My dirty little secret. You. I dream that God will suddenly gift you strength. That he’ll help you widen them gaps you made and help pull you through. I dream that you’ll cup chunks of mud into them dagger fingers and shove it down around your waist. I dream of your arms stretching. Snaking through them gaps God gifted you. I see you sit yourself up. I hear your spine crackle and pop as you do. I see your precious boots slip from your boney feet. I feel what you feel. That rage…ripplin’ through what’s left of you. I feel your hands claw and scrape through all that dark. Swimmin’ up through all that mud. I feel that everything is upside down. Just like that ocean in the sky you once talked about. I dream of your hand breaking the surface. That you’ll scream when it does. Screams smothered in mud.
I dream of the gentle evenin’ breeze brushin’ through your fingertips like ribbons of silk. I dream that it will stop you in your tracks…that something so gentle…will break you completely. All that you were. That you tried to hold on to. That gentle wind will blow away completely. Like embers from a fire floating out into the dark…smothered. Then gone. If you had tears, you’d cry. Instead, you choke and groan. You scream again. This time in such terrible pain. You bend your arm. Grip at what you can. You pull. The soil caves around you. Your head crests like a child from a mother’s womb. And you greet the world much the same. Wailing and screaming. Your mind racing. Your lidless eyes burning from the breeze. The stars will be too bright for you. And you’ll feel so cold it’ll sting. You’ll scream again. You’ll vomit bile and mud and worms. Everything will happen so quickly. You’ll want to go back down there but can’t. So you’ll pull yourself up. With the last of all your might. You will fold out onto the earth. Curled like an infant. And you will lay. Screaming. Alive. My secret no more.
The angel above your tombstone will be witness to your rebirth. Your eyes will settle on her cherub face. She will be haloed by the glow of the full moon. It will feel like she’s been waiting for you all this time. Your eyes will search her face. You’ll wait for her to speak her guidance. You’ll moan to her. Crawl to her. You’ll pull yourself to your knees in prayer. The breeze will flow through you. Through the patches of hair that still cling to your skull. You’ll believe she’s mother. You’ll believe she’s God. Your lipless smile will edge closer to her cherub cheeks. You’ll plead to her through tongueless words. You’ll open your mouth and bite at her face. Your teeth will scrape against her stone…yet you’ll do it again. Grinding harder. Tooth to stone. Gnashing teeth chipping into broken bits of dust. The bones of your fingertips will stroke the edges of her face. You’ll gasp. Bile will drip from your chin. You’ll take hold of the angel’s wings. Bring yourself to your feet. You’ll stagger in your gait, but your posture will hold true. Your feet planted under you. You’ll be alive. Reborn. Free…and hungry to find me.
Oh, the dreams I dream, Gerald. They all feel so real. Just know when you come for me…I never hated you. But I never loved you. I never liked the way you hit me. You bit me. You shoved me. You teased. The way you choked me. Gambled my life in that bear trap grip of yours. All while you smiled that smile…How I once loved that smile. Such a silly fool am I.
The children may ask of you some day. And I will bring them to your grave. They’ll ask me how you died. And I’ll feed them a harmless lie. But together we’ll know the truth. We’re bound to it you and I. Till my days end…and the next day shines.
See you in my dreams.
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Author Bio:
Travis Williams is a writer based in Los Angeles. He specializes in character driven horror with a Midwest Gothic twist. Basically, the kind of horror where you care about the people before everything goes completely off the rails. Travis began his writing career on the stages of Chicago and has been creeping out audiences ever since. He is a five-time writing finalist and the 2016 winner of WildClaw Theatre’s Deathscribe – The International Festival of Horror Radio Plays in Chicago. His horror radio play The Quake was recently featured in the popular podcast Gather by the Ghost Light. His short screenplay ‘Fish Special’ was a winning piece in the 2024 Killer Shorts Horror Screenplay Competition.
For more information on Travis and his work please visit TravisWilliams.info