Two years ago, on a warm Florida afternoon, fourteen men, eight women, and three children went into a pond on the outskirts of their small town and never came out. With more than a dozen witnesses present the congregation vanished before the very eyes of their friends, family, and the almighty God they worshiped. Not a single bystander had a notion what happened. It has remained an unsolved mystery despite the combined efforts of every investigative agency in the United State Federal government and other private organizations.
My assistant, Mark, and I have been working on the case since the day after the disappearance. In search for answers, our travels have led us to places like Roanoke, Virginia, and Popham Rock, Maine, only for us to discover a lead halfway across the world at the Archivo General de Indias (General Archive of the Indies) in Seville, Spain, where we currently reside.
Our discovery in Spain has left us with greater questions, none answerable. All hope was lost to provide closure to the families of the departed. While we await a response from our headquarters in regards to the continuation of our investigation, I’ve indulged my inner scholar with the ancient texts of antiquity from the Archives. The journals in particular captivated me.
They have provided windows into the hearts and minds of our ancestors like time capsules being opened years after interred into the ground. Their wants, needs, and desires are all incredibly similar to ours. They have inspired me to leave behind a record of my own, beyond the ownership of my employers, and easily accessible to those who may seek the knowledge I have acquired. While not as endearing and beautiful as hand written letters and musky parchment, a digital record will survive long after I have been dead and buried in the earth. God forbid if anyone should ever have need for this information.
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The green light on the digital clock flashed as it was approaching midnight, when the knock came upon my trailer door. I’d been expecting my last appointment since ten o’clock and couldn’t help peaking every so often to see how long they would make me wait on this one.
As government agencies working in official capacities, I am forced to respect their higher authority. Everyone gets their turn before I am given the opportunity to speak with any witnesses. Allowing my organization access to their databases, investigations, and to participate with them doesn’t come cheap or easy. No one respected us as a credible investigative unit. They treat us like second string players on a sports team. We were always forced to wait until the big boys were finished having their fun.
The knock roused me from the paperback I’d been reading to pass the time. Two EPA scientists stood outside the door with the woman I was supposed to have interviewed hours ago. Earlier in my career, I learned turning the other cheek was the best policy. i thanked the two scientists for bringing her to me in such a timely manner, with the falsest goodwill I could muster, then invited her inside my trailer. She sat down at the tiny booth the doubled as a dining table and an interview room.
Cross armed and expressionless, she stared straight ahead toward the front of the trailer. Her eyes were cotton candy pink and puffy. Her strawberry blonde hair hung short of her shoulders unkempt. She was living through a hellish nightmare. Looks be damned.
Questioning her at this point was merely a formality. All the transcripts from her other interviews throughout the day hadn’t brought anything new to the table.
“Good morning,” I greeted her sitting down across the table from her with recorder and files in hand.
“Are you Daphne Marie Cutler?”
“Yes, sir,” she responded. “Do you mind if I smoke?”
Before giving permission, she lit the cigarette. It trembled between her fingers as the smoke floated across the table into my nostrils. It didn’t bother me if it made her feel at ease.
“I know it’s been a horrendous day and I don’t wish to keep you. I know everyone has asked you the same questions over and over again so we’ll skip the basics and jump right into the meat and potatoes. Tell me what you saw yesterday.”
Daphne took in a deep breath and sighed.
“I don’t know what happened. I don’t have any answers,” Daphne complained letting her frustration show.
“I’m not going to grill you with questions like everyone else did. I just want your story so I can send my bosses a report.”
“Yesterday was supposed to be my cousin Jeffery’s baptism,” Daphne commenced. Tears flooded her eyes and dripped down the side of her face.
“I helped my Uncle Bill and Aunt Lisa set up their house and backyard in the morning to host a party after Jeffery’s baptism. They extended the invitation to everyone in the church to come and celebrate with them. They had enough food and drinks to feed the entire town,” Daphne recalled tenderly.
“After Father Reynolds finished his sermon at the church, he invited everyone to come out to witness the baptisms he was going to perform out at this pond that was discovered a couple of days ago by some hunters on the outskirts of town. He said it was really nice and clean and that he’d seen it himself, and that it was the holiest body of water he’d ever seen.”
“It was odd since Uncle Bill and Aunt Lisa hadn’t told me about this before. When I asked them, they said they wanted it to be a surprise for everyone. Honestly, I don’t think they had planned on it. Father Reynolds must have convinced them to do it right before the sermon but I can’t be sure.”
Her gaze settled upon the tape recorder. Her mind went back in time to the family she had lost. I allowed her to linger before nudging her to continue.
“When you arrived at the pond, did you notice anything out of the ordinary?” I inquired.
“Thinking back on it now, the water was exactly like Pastor Reynolds had said it was and more. It was unreal like something out of a travel brochure for an island paradise. You could see right to the bottom and there was nothing down there. No tree branches, bugs, leaves, or anything floating below or above the surface,” she replied remorsefully. “It was perfect. I should have known there was something wrong with it!”
“Don’t blame yourself. There’s nothing you could have done,” I reassured her.
“What happened after you arrived?” I questioned knowing we’d reached the most difficult part of the interview.
“Father Reynolds, Uncle Bill, Aunt Lisa, the godparents, Frank and Jenny, my mother and father, and Jeffery, entered the water with the other people who were getting their children baptized too,” Daphne strained through her sobs and grief.
“Why didn’t you go in with the rest of them?”
“It’s not because I didn’t wanna go in. Trust me, I would have been in there with them if I could have,” Daphne responded with a shiver.
“Any reason you didn’t go in?”
“I had my lady time,” she responded, blushing red.
“You just never know what details maybe may be relevant”, I pretended to jest and feeling like I was blushing too. “So what happened next?”
“Everyone went into the water and Father Reynolds led the ceremony. I could hear him but couldn’t make out what he was saying. Part of it was the distance from where I stood but for the most part, it was because there were some kids playing alongside the pond. They were being loud and obnoxious with no one to telling them to hush up since their family was in the water with mine. Then I heard one of them let out a holler and turned to see what had happened.”
“A little girl had tripped over this stone on the ground and had taken a tumble. She was holding her knee and wailing up a storm. She was more scared than hurt so I turned my attention back to the water and then…,” Daphne trailed off trying to make sense of the unexplainable.
“I couldn’t believe my eyes. I know what I saw but I just can’t accept it. The Pastor was dipping one of the kids beneath the water and everyone was all happy and cheering them on. Then all of a sudden, it was like the water swallowed them up and everyone went under. It was like flipping a light switch. There one second. Gone the next. No arms flailing. No splashes. No one crying for help. Nothing. Just crystal clear, motionless water, right where all my family had been standing,” Daphne choked out.
“What happened next?” I placed my hand on hers and squeezed. She took another puff of the depleted cigarette. The gesture seemed to bring her back to reality.
“Jimmy Howe ran to the water but as soon as he jumped in, it looked like he…just…I don’t even know how to explain it. He looked like he’d fallen straight through. The water didn’t move or splash. How the heck can it do that? How? It makes no sense!” she struggled slamming her empty fist onto the table.
“A few other folks went running to help him out but no one dared follow him in. The most they could do was put a tree branch into the water to see if Jimmy would grab it. As soon as the branch went in, it wouldn’t come back out, like it was cemented into the water, if that makes any sense. No one knew what to do after. Someone called the sheriff and a few officers showed. All they did was tell everyone to stay away from the water and close off the area until you people showed up. Now I’ve been stuck telling this fucking story over and over again and not getting anywhere closer to getting my family back!” Daphne roared. She extinguished the last of her cigarette, snuffing it out in the ashtray.
Her anger was justified. Yet, there was nothing I could offer to alleviate her frustration.
“I guess we’re done unless you want to add anything else?” I asked with my finger on the recorder.
“That’s everything,” Daphne responded and lit up another cigarette. I clicked the recorder off and leaned back in the chair. The toughest part of the job was finished. The interview would need to be uploaded and emailed later. It wasn’t a concern at the moment. The pack of cigarettes on the table caught my attention. Daphne pushed it to me and offered me a light. With all the strange things I’ve seen and dealt with in my life, cancer sticks were the least of my worries.
As we smoked together, we discussed the secondary goal of my unit which was offering assistance to those affected by “unnatural events” like these.
Psychological, monetary, and spiritual help were all covered and most people needed help with all three when forces beyond their understanding were involved. Those kids making a ruckus by the Pond had no parents to take care of them anymore. Daphne didn’t have a family either. Helping them was the most satisfying part of the job.
“Can I ask you a question, Father?” Daphne requested as the flame lit the tip of another cigarette.
“If it’s about the smoking, there’s nothing in the rule book saying we can’t do it,” I squelched in anticipation of the incoming question.
“Well, that’s not it, but that would have been my second,” Daphne affirmed rolling her eyes.
“Go ahead.”
“Do you think God took them to Heaven or something? Maybe they were Raptured?”
“There is a possibility but I wouldn’t set my heart on it. At this point, you know more than anyone else since you witnessed what happened. As far as I know, well…I don’t know much of anything,” I explained hoping she would understand. Her disappointment was written all over her face. I felt it in my heart too. I was no stranger to feeling powerless. We are all vulnerable to a world we shall never understand.
“I have another question,” Daphne stated.
“You don’t need permission, go right on ahead,” I replied.
“Do you have anything to drink?”
She parsed her dried lips together. I nodded feeling foolish I hadn’t offered her anything when she first came in. I grabbed two Coke’s and a lime from the refrigerator and a bottle of Brugal 1888 from the pantry. Daphne’s eyes widened as I grabbed a couple of glasses and made us some Cuba Libres.
“Are you really a priest? Pastor Reynolds never drank or smoked. I thought you guys couldn’t do that,” she pondered.
“There’s no rule in the Good Book against smoking or drinking. Jesus drank wine. Everyone did back then. Read John: 2, The Wedding at Cana. The Virgin Mary tells Jesus to restock the wine at wedding after the host runs out at the end of the feast. This is actually the first of seven public miracles he performs. You don’t think Jesus had couple drinks with his buddies?”
She nodded and took a sip of her drink before putting her head down on the table. The poor girl was the epitome of exhaustion. She sighed, spinning the stirring rod around in the drink.
“Father, please tell me what’s really happening. No one answers any of my questions,” she begged, picking her head up from the table.
“I can only tell you what I know for certain and like I said before, it isn’t much,” I answered.
“You have to know something. Someone has to know something!” Daphne begged.
“There are people working around the clock trying to figure out what happened. Once they know something, I’ll get the report and I promise I’ll let you know right away,” I comforted.
It was unfortunate I had to lie to Daphne and everyone else I had interviewed. They were all friendly and honest, hardworking people whose families and friends had been caught up in some part of the universe that deviated from God’s Plan. At least, that is the manner I am required with which to approach the situation. Quite frankly, I’m not sure if there was a grand cosmic plan from the start.
The sliver of information on the Pond wasn’t useful. Photographs taken via aerial drone showed nothing except a small body of water like any other. Sonar didn’t’ work. Sound waves could be sent in and nothing bounced back. If the instruments were functioning correctly, our “Pond” was supposedly bottomless. It made no sense since all witness testimony placed the victims waist high in the water at the time of their disappearance.
The grounds surrounding the water were free of biological and chemical contaminants. All attempts at extracting the water have gone unsuccessful. Once something goes in, it doesn’t come back out. According the geological surveys and hydro-geologists, there were no underground water reserves responsible for the phenomena either.
“Right now, we’re all stumped. It’s not to say we won’t figure it out tomorrow or the day after,” I said then took a generous sip of my drink savoring the dry, age rum and the sweetness of the soda together with the lime. The pause allowed the silence to fill the air and a change in topic of conversation.
“Do you think I’ll be able to go home tonight? I don’t want to be here anymore.” Placing the photographs back into my folder, I pulled her health records out and pretended to examine them. It was another ruse. There was no way anyone near the pond would be leaving the area anytime soon. Even the soldiers and scientists on site. No one would be allowed to leave until the quarantine was lifted.
“Your physical and blood work analysis showed nothing except your cholesterol is a little on the higher side. That’s nothing to worry about. Everyone will be allowed to return to town soon,” I soothed, skimming over the report. “Everyone just wants to make sure nothing is-,”
A pounding on the trailer door disrupted me. “Seems like we have a visitor,” I remarked while plastering a smile across my face and opening the door. Mark appeared to be in a panic. It made my heart race.
“There’s a code…uh…19…42…911? Fuck it, there’s some shit going down at the Pond. All hands on deck!” Mark called out and ran away in the direction of our Suburban.
“Lock the door behind me. Don’t come out until I come back,” I ordered while rushing out the door. Daphne nodded, shutting the door behind me, and clicking the lock into place. Mark was already in the driver’s seat of the black Suburban when I jumped into the passenger side. He floored it allowing me no time to shut the door before we were already barreling down the dirt path. Other agency vehicles scrambled ahead of us, treading their tires and lifting grass and dirt into the air.
“911? Did you see the poor girl’s face when you said that? Codes exist so people don’t know when something happens and panics!” I reprimanded. Mark was far too concentrated on navigating through the darkness enveloping the landscape. It was a moonless night and the headlights of our SUV seemed to have a tough time penetrating the darkness ahead.
“Resin put out the call,” Mark replied.
“The shit really must have hit the fan,” I cursed. When the man in charge of Quarantine Security sends out a distress call, it’s safe to assume something catastrophic is occurring. We rode on without another word between us. The static crackling over the radio filled the silence. Ever so often a couple of voices faded in and out with nothing new to report.
Before our arrival at the deserted security checkpoint, we could see why Resin had called for backup. The perimeter was littered with the bullet ridden carcasses of all the woodland creatures inhabiting the area. At least it seemed to be. They were sprawled across the landscape, mangled, maimed, and mutilated. The air reeked of blood and feces. A pandemonium of screams and shouts filled the air inside the perimeter fence.
The inside area of the fence was littered with the tangled bodies of scientists, soldiers, and government workers combating other men and women like one of those Royal Rumble wrestling events where the ring was filled with as many brawling men as it could fit. They’d punch, kick, and throw one another over the top rope in an effort to eliminate each other until only one man remained standing. In this case, those eliminated ended up disappearing into the crystalline water at the center of our fenced in ring.
“Get them!” I directed Mark and pointed at the people closest to the Pond. He acknowledged with a grunt and darted ahead of me. I attempted to follow his lead, when a deer dashed past inches away from crashing into me. It twisted and turned, running past everyone in its path heading straight toward the water at a breakneck speed until it hit the edge and disappeared into that abominable substance that mimicked water.
It was precisely as Daphne and all the other people I had interviewed in the past twenty-four hours had recounted. The ground appeared to have gone out from underneath the deer and the water swallowed it whole like a titanic gaping mouth. I couldn’t take my eyes off it until Mark shouted for help. He was close to plunging in with a man at the edge where the land and water met.
Mark grasped hold of the hazard suit a man wore before he was able to reach the water. The man squirmed and shimmied in an attempt to disengage himself. Mark wrapped his arms around the man’s chest in a bear hug, hoisted him off his feet, and trounced him to the ground with a deep thud. The momentum sent Mark careening in the direction of the water. His saving grace was the hazard suit man, in his suicidal desperation, rolling beneath Mark’s feet and stopping him from twirling into certain death. The hazard suit man disappeared near the spot the deer had gone.
To join my assistant in the melee, I sideswiped the afflicted shuffling their way to the Pond. Their unresponsive eyes, glassy and unfocused, gave them away. They cared for nothing unless you impeded their progress. Then they would become agitated and fight like their lives were being threatened. To buy them time, I rammed myself into them, shoulder first, with the intention of knocking them over. My size was nowhere near the bulky, muscular frame of my assistant’s. I couldn’t bawl them over but I did provide the precious seconds it took for someone to come and restrain them.
Helping Mark from the ground, I instructed him to go for the legs and we advanced meeting the next entranced person closest to us. We would later learn the man’s name was Alex. He was one of the engineers responsible for constructing the fences around the Pond. Mark chop blocked his legs and both men crashed to the dirt. Mark climbed atop of Alex and pinned him down. Alex bellowed and snarled like a mad man, fighting with every fiber of his being. Snot and spittle flew from his nose and mouth as he swung his arms in wide arcs striking Mark on the chest and shoulders.
While Mark was busy holding down Alex, one of the security team’s members slogged past them. Circling around her, I dove at her ankles and wrapped my arms around them like a football player. Bridgette, whose name would also learn later, squirmed and kicked, struggling against my restraining grasp. Once she noticed she wasn’t going anywhere, she rained down a flurry of hammerfist blows upon my head. My teeth clattered together with every thud against my cranium. I could do nothing except take the abuse in an effort to save her life.
“Let her go!” someone barked from above me. It was Resin. Obeying his instruction, I let her loose and rolled away from the enraged woman. Resin kicked her on the rump and knocked her back to the ground. He pulled a Taser from his belt and placed it on her back. The soldier shrieked in agony at the electrical currents involuntarily contracting and locking her muscles into a full body Charlie horse. She stopped all resistance going limp face down in the grass.
“Catch!” Resin called out and tossed me a zip tie. I grabbed her legs again, this time without any resistance, pulled them together, and bound them with the zip tie. Resin yanked her hands behind her back and signaled for me to bind them too. She groaned and seethed under her breath while the zip tie clicked around her hands.
“You only have three!” he shouted shoving another Taser into my hand and a bundle of zip ties into the other. Without another word, Resin advanced upon the next person and jolted him down. In the blink of an eye, the man was hogtied and Resin sprinted off towards the sound of gunfire erupting near the edge of the fences.
Following Resin’s example, I freed Mark from the struggle with Alex. Mark released the solider allowing me to place the contacts of the Taser on his forearm and stun him into compliance. Alex squealed, babbling incoherently, while convulsing. He settled down allowing us to hogtie him too. With the remaining two charges, Mark and I managed to save two more people before we realized the madness had stopped.
The people that remained standing weren’t heading towards the water. The melee had finished with countless injured, many unaccounted and missing, and gone forever. The entranced suffered the brunt of those injuries. Everyone walked away with at least a bloody nose, a black eye or two, and a few bumps and bruises. Once order was restored, Resin called for everyone to assist with transporting the incapacitated and gravely injured back to the trailers. Everyone else was to abandon the area near the Pond, report anyone missing, and await further instructions.
Mark and I assisted with transport duties. Alex and Bridgette fussed and fought as we readied them to be carried back to the Suburban. With their hands and feet bound, the most they could do was spit and growl and snap with their teeth at our fingers. They writhed and thrashed until we had them secured in the trunk. Neither tried to hurt the other as both were focused on cursing Mark and I.
The more distance we put between the Pond and them, the more they seemed to regain a semblance of their senses. Once they were able to form sentences again, they were less inclined to spit and snarl, opting instead to beg us to put them out of their misery. Both complained of excruciating migraine like symptoms. Once we arrived at the medical trailer, we came to learn all of the others under the Pond’s influence were afflicted too.
The medical trailer was overcapacity with the injured and afflicted. Priority was given to those who had suffered the greatest injuries and the rest were left to their devices with supplies from the medical kits in their trailers and other items scrounged up. Mark and I carried Alex and Bridgette into the medical trailer with the assistance of personnel who arrived earlier and stayed behind to help.
Once they were attended to, I sent Mark back to check in on Daphne. It was almost three in the morning and the young woman would be worried. Mark would stay with her through the night. There was no telling what could happen if one of the afflicted managed to escape.
I stayed behind attending to minor injuries and bringing spiritual comfort to those in need of it. With my hand forced now, I understood I needed to fill Daphne and everyone else in on the situation. There was no hiding the truth anymore. The commotion was too great and there was no way to keep a lid on it with everyone running around bruised, beaten, and shell shocked.
Too many had been lost under the depths of the crystal oblivion.
There would be more to follow…
Submitted August 20, 2015 at 05:46PM by Human_Gravy http://ift.tt/1Jl3Nj6 DarkTales
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