Storymania - The Ebanese Pit by Sf

The Ebanese Pit
Sf

The evil was all around. Anybody that walked within thirty feet of the Pit could sense it. It took over their body. The evil flowed like a stream drenched in blood and glowed like a lamp with bugs zapped in it. There was something about the Ebanese Pit that just didn’t sit right with people. Some have even said that you could see what they thought was the devil. They said that it was like being inside a dream that they couldn’t wake up from.
There has been only one person that has lived from the Ebanese Pit. That man died shortly after in the mental institution, claiming that evil spirits were coming to get him. The cause of death was never agreed on. The doctors just wrote it off as a heart attack, but they knew that his heart was fine. Truth was, they couldn’t see what was wrong with him.
Ebanese Pit was considered by many to be just a legend. To adults and the religious it was a place of unholy phantoms. But to some interested souls, it was the epitome of truth or dare. Young men wanted to impress everyone the best way they could, if they had the guts, or as some might say, the stupidness, to go to the Pit and see what they could see. For all, it was something they would never get over.

FEBRUARY 29, 1999--10:00 PM

“Pete? You know you don’t have to do this.”
“Yeah right. And be laughed at by everyone for the rest of my high school days? No way.”
“But look. You don’t need to prove anything to me. So just give it up.” Hannah leaned over next to Pete in his truck. Pete looked over at her and grasped her hand.
“Please Hannah. Let me do this, okay? I’ll just walk in and then walk out. I’ll be back in ten minutes.”
“I still don’t think this is a good idea. I mean, it is private property.”
“Do you really think anyone’s going to be here this time of night? Come on. I’ll be right back.”
“Okay. Fine. Just hurry.”
“I will. Love you.”
“I love you too.” With the parting taken place, Pete stepped down from the truck and felt the soft earth beneath his feet. He closed the door and pulled his jacket around him. He took footsteps down the beaten path that led up to the gate.
The gate itself was a two door gate with sturdy metal rods jutting up from the overgrown landscape below. Time and nature had created green vines that wrapped around the entire length of it, though in the bright moonlight the vines looked more red than green. Pete noticed that as he went up to the gate the color shifted from a red to a dark blue and then to green. The vines appeared to move, to sway with the slight breeze that blew Pete’s hair up faintly.
Pete arrived at the gate and looked through the vines and into the yard beyond. The vines were blocking his view. He couldn’t see much of anything, and what he did see was obscured by the vines. The yard that followed looked about as bad as the gate. There were grass blades blowing in the wind and bushes growing above them. Pete looked on and could swear he saw a movement beyond the grass blowing to the right. He looked and saw it again. Just a flicker of something white. Bright white.
Pete looked back the way he had come and saw Hannah sitting in the truck looking at him. He quickly turned back around, and, not wanting her to know that he was having second thoughts, began to climb the gate. As he turned, he saw that shimmer of white bright light, an object in the grass, move quickly to the right and disappear. He placed his hands on the gate.
It was slow going at first. The vines were slippery and the bars vertical, so there were virtually no handholds. He jumped up as high as he could to get to the top bar and grasped it. Using his biceps he pulled himself up off the ground. His left hand reached out and clasped the top handle. After that it was smooth sailing. Before he knew it he had jumped down on the other side of the gate. Immediately the sky appeared to get darker. The moon’s rays didn’t penetrate this side of the fence as well as it should have. Pete could see little as he began to walk forward in the grass.
The ground was very soft, so soft that he sunk down a few inches each time that he stepped. There was also a strange odor in the air. Pete couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was strong.
“Where are you?” Pete whispered to himself, looking for his goal. As he said it, his voice seemed to echo throughout the land, even though he had only whispered it. He was surprised, and as he looked around, bumped into something. He looked down. There was something in his way. He bent down and was encompassed by the grass. The night became darker. He squinted down at what had tripped him. It was round. It had decorations on it. It was a soccer ball. Pete laughed slightly and grasped the ball. It was slimy. Pete stood up and yelled as he looked at the soccer ball that was in his hands, covered with blood.
He threw it down. He rubbed his hands up and down his coat, but the red didn’t come off. Pete heard a noise. He flipped around, still rubbing his hands on his jacket. The white was there again, only moving slower. It was closer to him, and then it disappeared.
The night became darker.
“Hello?” Pete called into the darkness, rubbing his hands together.
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FEBRUARY 29, 1987--10:05 PM

In the white mental institution that lay on the outskirts of a small town in Georgia there was a room that was home to a special patient. The white padded room had a bad name here. No one wanted to go in that room for fear of what the patient might do. But tonight, someone was taking their chances.
Quincy H. Harrison, a man of 43, had been in this room for three years. He was a troubled man. He had visions every night, which was one of the main reasons why he was here. He kept saying thins about how he was being haunted by demons. Tonight, though, he was subdued some by the reporter, an attractive young lady from Atlanta who was interested in his story, who had come here to interview him.
He had readily agreed at the chance to get his story out. The two sat down at a table in the middle of a big room with nothing but guards on the door in case Quincy became obnoxious.
“Well, where do we begin?” asked the lady she set down her yellow notepad to take notes.
“I’ll tell you where we should start,” Quincy said with a forceful tone. He leaned over the table and stroked his beard stubble. “We should start by talking about that God forsaken Pit.”
“Okay, let’s start there. What can you tell me about it? What is it?”
“What the hell do you think it is? It’s a pit. Just a pit. No walls, no barricade over it, nothing. It just sits there in the middle of the ground, deeper than any ocean. There is no explanation as to why it got there. No one knows. It is just there. For as long as anyone can remember.”
“And how did you come across this pit?”
“I was a groundskeeper for the land. I had just moved from Phoenix and needed a job. I found one as the groundskeeper. No one else had volunteered, and I had no idea why.”
“Go on.”
“Well, I don’t need to bore you with all the details. Just know that as time wore on, I began to notice things. I would wake up at all times at night thinking someone was in my room with me. I could have swore that there was someone there with me. I remember one night, a few months in the job, I set up a video camera right on my dresser, just to see if I could see anything.”
“Did you see anything?”
“Not the first night. Or the second, or the third. But on the fourth,” Quincy said, shuddering, “I saw something.”
“What?” The young lady asked.
“A little girl.”
“A girl? How did she get in there?”
“Oh this wasn’t a normal girl.”
“How do you mean?” Quincy put his hands up on his chin and shuddered again, chills running through his body.
He looked the reporter straight in the eye and replied to her question.
“The girl had the face of a demon.”
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FEBRUARY 29, 1999--10:15 PM

Pete spun around in the darkness of the night trying to see what had eluded him time after time. The white light that kept randomly appearing was so sporadic he couldn’t see it. The night was getting darker and the moon had gone behind thick black clouds. He could tell he was getting closer to his goal. His eyes kept scanning the darkness and his hands brushed back the overgrown shrubbery. He was giving up hope that it was there.
He could feel a presence around him and it did not make him feel warm. It was an evil entity, something that saw him at every moment and knew what he was doing at every time. And the smell. The smell had intensified from when he first came in. Now he knew what it was. Parsley. It was a strong odor of parsley.
“Isaiahhhhh....” Pete flipped around, listening intently. What was that? It sounded like a whispered voice with different voices behind it. And what had it said? Isaiah?
“Your brother awaits....”
“Who’s there? Hannah?” Pete yelled out into the darkness yet knew there would be no response. His heart began to beat faster. His brother? His brother had died of pneumonia when Pete was only three. His brother was five. Pete didn’t even remember him. And Isaiah? Isaiah was his dad’s middle name. What was going on?
The earth beneath his feet was getting softer and softer.
“Isaiah...” the voice repeated.
Pete began to back up, his shoes sinking in the ground.
“Your brother awaits....” The voice repeated again.
Pete backed up more. The white light appeared again and this time it came directly towards him. Pete began to back up more and more. The white light was nearly on him. As his hands brushed back the shrubbery suddenly it disappeared and there was no more. No more grass and no more sinking into the ground. If Pete could have looked he would have seen a perfect circle of nothing and at the center his destination, though he was unprepared for it.
The light was right at the edge of the grass. Pete continued to back up.
He kept backing up, and fell right into the Pit.
________________

Pete opened his eyes and was at peace. He was in his house, years ago, when his brother was still alive. Why was he here? He couldn’t pick up any of the senses from this place. He couldn’t smell the house; he couldn’t feel the floor beneath his feet. He wasn’t really here. He was watching.
There was his brother. Playing in his room. Happy. His father walked down the hall towards the room. There was a knife in his hand. Before Pete could do anything his father had used the knife. Pete’s brother was through playing. He was crumpled up on the floor. A pool of blood ran from his heart. His father left the room.
Pete remained where he was for one because he was unable to move and secondly because he was in shock. His brother died of pneumonia. What was this?
_________________

As soon as he saw it he was back in the yard. He was lying on the ground, in the open circle. The moonlight had come back out and yet the yard was not illuminated thoroughly. The wind had ceased. All was silent. Pete sat up and looked over to the right. There was the Pit. It was at least five feet in diameter and a perfect circle. The darkness in it seemed to stretch from it and onto the ground, drawing everything from all around it into it.
Then the white light appeared again. This time it was slower and was right on the edge of the grass. Through the grass it came. A little girl. Dressed in white. She walked towards him. Pete looked at her. The darkness around him was engulfing him.
“Hello?” Pete asked.
The little girl didn’t respond. But as she got closer, Pete gasped. Her face was red, dark red. Her eyes were so evil that Pete screamed when he saw them. It felt like he was being sucked into them. But as quickly as the girl had appeared, she was gone.
Then Pete saw two red glowing eyes from within the overgrown grass. These eyes were worse than the others. This was no girl. This was something else. A demon of some sorts. Something not human and something that Pete knew was not a good force.
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FEBRUARY 29, 1987--10:20 PM

“A demon face?”
“That’s right. A demon face. The mouth was hideous and the nose deformed. And the eyes--oh God the eyes. When I saw them, even on the video, I could feel her looking at me. Right through me.”
“So what did you do after that?”
“I got the hell out of there. The very next day and left.”
“So what did you find out about this pit?”
“A whole hell of a lot. Listen to me, girl. There was a family once. Way back in the day, we’re talking 1700s. Nice family. One day they woke up and that pit was in their backyard. No one had dug it, and they dropped stones down it and never heard them hit the bottom. Then the weird stuff began. The family died off. One by one, within a week. All gone. And I saw a picture of the family. That same girl, only with a normal face, was there. She was the daughter.”
“So this family is haunting the Pit?” The lady asked. Quincy laughed.
“Hell no. The Pit is haunted by something much worse. The family is just drug along. That’s what makes this pit so disturbing. It never goes away and every single person who has gone in has never come out.”
“Except you.”
“I was lucky. But that’s not the point. The point is, girl, that that pit is controlled by a higher power.”
“The devil?”
“You might say that. Truth is no one knows.”
“So what happens to the people that go to the Pit?”
“That is the biggest mystery of all. No one ever has known and I don’t either. People can only imagine what torture and vile things happen to the people stupid enough to go into the pit. But one thing is for sure.” Quincy leaned across the table and grasped the reporter’s hands. She jumped.
“You have to let people know about that pit. They’ll show you the worst things. Then they’ll show you more and do things to you that will make you go insane.” The guards on the perimeter of the room moved in. Quincy grasped the reporter’s hands harder.
“No one who has ever gone in has ever come out. Ever.” The guards reached Quincy and pried him off the lady, who was looking terrified at him.
“No one has ever come out?”
Quincy, struggling against the guards’ grasp, looked her straight in the eye again.
He took one last strong lunge and jerked out of the guard’s grasp.
He leaned over the table right next to her face.
In the split second that the guards were disoriented, he whispered into her ear.
“No one.”
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MARCH 1, 1999--9:23 AM

Hannah opened her eyes. Her body was cramped. It was then that she realized she was still in Pete’s truck. She extended her legs and felt the popping of bones as the legs adjusted to the straightened position. Then she realized it was daylight. She was up immediately, her eyes blinking rapidly in the bright sun. Where was Pete? She must have fallen asleep. But why hadn’t he come back?
She got out of the truck and saw Pete’s footprints leading up to the gate. She followed them and arrived at the gate with the vines wrapped around it. She whispered Pete’s name. She put her face to the bars and tried to see behind it but couldn’t see past the creeping plants.
“Pete?” She called again.
There was no response.
All was silent beyond the gate to the Ebanese Pit.