Virginia Creepers

Prologue – Virginia Creepers

We’ve sat on these walls for years, watching, waiting, observing. Rooted to this cabin. Embedded in the land. Our leaves stretch across stone walls creating a mosaic of greens and reds. We attach ourselves. Intertwine with the earth. Our reach extends for miles, though you would never know it. We’re not always easily seen. Tiny, red roots flowing for acres underground. Vines crawling up tree trunks, smothering smaller plants. Taking what is needed to survive, as we all do. Camouflaging with the foliage. Holding the ground in place, fighting the elements, controlling the erosion. An intricate survival system. 

We’ve seen many come and go. Some bad. Some good. We like the good ones. But try as we might, not all can be saved. Sometimes the bad ones win. It is just a fact in this life. Good does not always defeat evil, there are always grey areas. But, you humans seem to prefer things in black and white. Grey is overwhelming. It creates too many possibilities for the mind. So, you take things at face value, organized into little boxes…compartmentalized to ease your mental load. 

And we, we watch. Eyes on the wall. Ears in the trees. Implanted in the ground. Rooting for the good. Liberating when possible and acting as a cradle in death when things are too far gone…

The Blue Ridge Mountains

Sweat dripped down my forehead, down my temple, cascading down my cheek like a tear. I paused to pull my curly, blonde hair behind me, out of my face, into a ponytail. As I wrapped the thin hair tie three times around I could feel the warm breeze tickle the back of my neck almost like a whisper. It was a warm 85 degrees Farhenheit. The sky, a brilliant blue as if it had been hand painted. The sun blazed down through the trees lighting a fire on my back. In contrast to the sky, everything at ground level was a lush green. Plants and bushes created a cozy blanket on the forest floor. 

I had been planning my solo trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains for over a year. Saving whatever I could from my crappy waitressing job, researching the trails, investing in camping materials – it was like a full time job for the last 11.5 months. There were over a thousand miles of trails and I planned on doing as much as I could within my two week adventure. I loved hiking. Out in the elements, inhaling fresh oxygen, taking in the views was always when I felt most at peace. It calmed my soul in a way that nothing else ever could. Taking away life’s worries and replacing them with peaceful memories. And after my Dad passed away, it was something I required. My own kind of therapy to mend what was left of my heart. To hopefully reinvigorate my soul. My soul that as of late, seemed to drag behind me in the shadows. 

The solo part was a dare to myself. After Dad’s passing many friends had asked, begged even to come along. And I had refused. The trip had been planned as a solo trip from the beginning. Losing him was not going to change that I owed myself this. I owed myself a chance to do something on my own. To get out there and take a risk. And I refused not to follow through with it. I would not grow old and regretful one day. No, the goal was to grow old and content with life. To never look back with “what if’s” and “I should have’s”. That’s what this trip was- the start of me living for me. 

The last 6 days had been filled with beautiful sights, hours of walking trails and nights spent curled up in my tent with a cheesy romance novel. I had assumed I’d be more nervous alone. Especially at night time on the Appalchian trail; the trail and all of its superstitions that I had spent years reading about. But, I was curiously at peace. I felt as though I belonged in these woods. Almost as if they had been waiting for me. It was the first time in 10 years that I had truly felt like myself. So far, my twenties have been a whirlwind. 8 years filled with bad decisions, late nights, alcohol, lack of a plan, Dad’s sickness and ultimate demise. I shook away the memory of his frail body, emaciated in the hospital bed set up in our dark living room. His skin taut, stretching around his cheek bones, his eyes two sunken holes…This trip felt like a rejuvenation. I felt myself emerging from the thick shell that I had been trapped in. It was as if I was seeing the sun, the trees, the sky all for the first time. And maybe I was. Maybe it was the first time since I was a child that I was truly seeing. 

I continued down the path following the sound of rushing water. The sound numbed my brain, drowning out the tiny voices in my head, the memories that I wish I could pull like strings from my brain. The trees began to open up as I neared the large stream. I bent down allowing my fingertips to break the surface of the cool water before hauling off my hiking pack in search of my water bottle. I took the large, pink, metal bottle out of the side pocket of my pack. I raised the bottle covered in stickers of books, dogs, nature…all of my favorite things and then dipped it into the clear, flowing water. 

I looked around taking in the vastness of it all. The wide stream ran on either side for as far as my eyes could see. The glassy water flowed over a series of smooth rocks scattered across the stream bed. Not a soul in sight. In fact, I hadn’t seen any sign of other human life over the course of the last two days. The trails I was traveling were treacherous, requiring many nights of tent camping. I was much further into the trails than the typical tourist would choose to venture. I relished being alone. One with nature in this immense space. No distractions. No other humans to stir up the emotions that I was avidly hiking away from. 

A soft crunch from the woods behind me jumped me from my reverie. I spun around, eyes squinting trying to see beyond the thick leaves of the surrounding forest. The hairs on my sunkissed arms stood up. The feeling of being watched, of someone peering at me hidden in the bush sent a chill through my warm body causing a feeling of pins and needles in my veins. I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket- no service. Not surprising. I had read cell service was spotty on the trails. And boy was I out on the trails…almost a week’s hiking distance to any civilization. I turned my attention back to the treeline. I couldn’t make out anything. But that did not mean something wasn’t staring back. 

I froze for a moment unsure how to handle the situation. Another snap of underbrush sent my heart into sport mode, pounding like a bass drum in my chest. The sounds were too loud to be a squirrel or a rabbit- whatever was lurking had to be much bigger. I set down my now filled bottle and grabbed the small can of pepper spray from my other pocket prepared to pull the trigger if necessary. A low, sadistic laugh boomed from the trees. It had human characteristics but also reminded me of an animal. What kind of animal, I could not pinpoint. The cackle kicked my freeze response into flight. I looked around quickly trying to calculate a way out. My panic forced me across the stream, jumping from rock to rock wherever possible to avoid soaking my boots.  I moved quickly and carefully. The last thing I wanted to do was fall and become a sitting duck. Across the wide body of water there was a small embankment. I clambered up it, my pace quickening as water splashed behind me. I was in the thick of the woods- no trail in sight. The small logical part of my brain that remained intact sent a wave of anxiety through my body- off trail meant a huge possibility of getting lost. 

The warnings are everywhere. Stay on the trail. It is hiking 101. State park websites claim it is to prevent erosion which is just one of the many reasons it is preached to all who enter a trailhead. Getting lost out in the wilderness miles away from civilization is another reason – one not advertised as often. And here on the Appalachian trail there were many other reasons not to veer off course. An entire lore of them. I’d read enough to know better. But, at this point it was my only option…

Shit. 

The sound of my own heavy breath was distracting me from hearing my surroundings. I ducked behind a large stump pausing for a moment to try to slow my breathing.. All I could hear was the whooshes of air pushing through my lungs and out my mouth. As quickly as I could I slung the pack off my back and rummaged through it. Searching for the hunting knife my Dad had left me. I grasped it in my hand, feeling the divots and curves of the wide handle. Another crunch came from behind me. I took a deep breath in and held it, shrinking my back into the stump. 

I peeked around the tree coming face to face with a large man. His lips were pulled back over his pointy, uneven teeth creating a chilling, yellow smile. His long dark hair clung to his scalp in tufts leaving bald patches scattered around his head. It reminded me of a patchy lawn in need of treatment. His skin was tan and worn as if he had been out in the elements his entire life. His eyes were dark as if his pupils had conquered his irises. Definitely a human but with an uncanny look- almost creature-esque. The man flailed his large knife out at me, cutting through the air while laughing hysterically. I took off in a sprint forcing my tired legs to keep moving, pushing for longer strides away from the crazy thing behind me. 

Suddenly, mid stride I found myself tripping, plummeting to the ground connecting hard with the roots and rocks. I heard a loud hooting behind me mixed with more laughter. I scrambled to get back on my feet while trying to regain the breath that had been knocked out of me. My brain was screaming at me to move move MOVE but my body wasn’t cooperating as quickly as I needed it to. I felt a hand grab at my ankle pulling me back. I dug my nails into the ground trying to find leverage to keep myself put but the man was much stronger than my brittle fingernails. He pulled again dragging my body towards him, my nails breaking against the rocky ground and then quickly flipped me from my stomach so that I was now laying on my back. He placed a foot on either side of my body, keeping me pinned where I was. His mouth was open, breathing heavily. He cocked his head from side to side like a cat playing with their prey. 

“What do you want from me?” I squeaked as I carefully reached further back with my left hand feeling around on the forest floor for my knife that had gone flying from my grip during the fall. 

He cocked his head again staring. His dark eyes bore into me. The emotion in them was inhuman. His pupils were so dilated that I could barely see the irises of his eyes. It was like looking into two black holes. He lowered himself to his knees- still one leg on either side of my body. He raised the knife again looking from it and then to me, lips still curled into an elated smile. My breath was coming in sharp, painful bursts. My lungs felt like they were going to pop one by one. My heart beat hard in my chest, a rhythmic punching in my sternum. He lowered himself down from where he was perched over my stomach to my legs. As soon as his body was far enough down I once again tried to wiggle backwards. I moved a few inches before he flung himself back on top of me, placing the knife against the skin on my cheek. He dragged it slowly down my cheekbone, moving down my neck below my ear. I could feel the knife slicing my skin ever so slightly like a drawn out papercut. 

His message was clear – don’t move. 

I froze in place again staring above me. Watching the leaves on the trees sway against the bright sky. He moved down to my legs again, unceremoniously lifting up my right pant leg. I focused on my breathing. In through my nose, hold for 5 seconds and then let the air whoosh out my mouth. While he was distracted inspecting my leg I once again rummaged in the leaves and dirt with my left hand strewn out behind me. My pinky came in contact with hard plastic. I stretched my fingers further trying to grab the handle of the knife. 

Pain shot through my leg. I looked down to see the man carving a piece of flesh out of my lower calf. Like a butcher would carve a cow. The knife cut through my skin like butter. Blood bubbled up and flowed over like a small crimson waterfall. My eyes widened. Tears involuntarily streamed down my cheeks. The salt burning the paper cut that trailed from under my eye down my neck. I reached back further, one more long stretch of my left arm. Fingers wrapped around the knife handle. The man had finished cutting, now hanging a flap of my skin up in front of his face near his mouth hooting, howling, laughing like an animal, licking his lips. Drool pooled on one corner of his mouth threatening to spill over. 

In one swift motion I thrust my body up and forwards pushing the knife into his left shoulder. He let out a gurgled “aghhh” before dropping to the ground, grabbing at the embedded knife. I pushed myself to my feet ignoring the violent pain in my right leg and took off running. From behind me I could hear the man moaning on the ground. Moments later more howling and whooping carried across the forest like a series of battle cries. 

There were more of them. 

I gripped the knife tightly in my hand forcing my body forward as quickly as it could go keeping my head on a swivel trying to find any place to hide. The whooping behind me was louder with each step. It would only be a matter of time before the crunching pack of footsteps was on my tail. Off the path the brush was dense. My leg ached terribly. All my body wanted to do was lay down. The trees spun around me, blood loss starting to disorient my brain. 

Adrenaline kept my body moving -the will to survive ingrained in my brain.

Ahead an outline of a structure poked through the trees. I hurled my body towards it. A possible place to hide. The hollering behind me was getting louder. I could hear sticks and twigs being trampled in their wake as they…whoever or whatever they were closed in. As I approached the small, dingy cabin I kept my eyes out for any sign of life. Based on the cobwebs hanging from the door it didn’t look like it had been used in a very long time. I glanced behind me and once confirming the coast was clear, heaved open the thick, wooden door. 

The floors of the cabin were damp and slimy from years of laying dormant at the mercy of the elements. Boards were strewn across the windows, blocking out the sun. I fastened the deadbolt and pulled down a heavy wooden lever, locking the door tightly. I fell to the floor in an unceremonious heap, my body unable to continue forward. Pain from my leg reverberated through my entire body in pulsating blasts. My breathing hitched and my ears involuntarily swiveled to the door as footsteps crunched on the porch outside. I dragged my body across the floor further into the darkness of the cabin. The footsteps moved closer to the door. Sweat dripped down the crease of my back and pooled on my upper lip. I breathed in and out for a 10 count trying to slow my heart as it tried its best to burst through my chest cavity. I wasn’t supposed to be here. It wasn’t supposed to end…like this. 

I looked down at my leg. The skin around the front of my lower calf had been peeled back revealing the white of my bone. A pool of red streamed behind me – a blessed crimson trail for the ones following me. I peered around the ill lit cabin willing my eyes to come into focus. I needed something to stop the bleeding or there was no chance in hell I was getting out of this. I pulled myself to the kitchen in an army crawl using my one good leg to push my body weight forward. Above me a rag hung from the kitchen table. I grabbed it quickly trying to ignore the dirt and grime that had etched its way into the fibers. I wrapped it around my leg fashioning a makeshift tourniquet. I tightened the rag wincing as it squeezed at the gaping wound. It felt like a million knives stabbing at my leg at once. Tears pricked at my eyelids. I wanted to yell out but I clenched my teeth together keeping my mouth tightly shut.  

My eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness allowing me to take in more of the cabin. There was a room to the right side of the kitchen. I hauled myself towards it. The door opened to a set of stairs leading down a dark abyss into what I assumed to be the basement of the cabin. The stairs were slick in damp slime and I quickly realized it would be a miracle if I were able to get myself down them with just one good leg. A loud bang came from the cabin door. I didn’t have a choice- it was down or dead. I tried not to remind myself that one slip down could also mean dead but that still seemed like a better option than whatever these…things had in store for me. 

I felt around the wall for a railing- a bust. The banging on the cabin door became harder, more urgent. The hinges creaked and groaned threatening to give way to the force pushing from behind. The entities whooped and hollered their excitement growing with each heave against the door. As if they knew they would make it in. As if they knew they had me. 

I threw my legs out over the staircase and pulled myself forward so that my butt sat on the edge of the first stair. I paused, swinging around and carefully shutting the door behind me without a sound. I then felt the doorknob for a lock- success. And then slowly, I allowed myself to fall in a seated position from stair to stair. Edging closer to the bottom my heart rate quickened again. I could see nothing but blackness. If there was something already lurking down here I was a goner. Before reaching the last stair I paused looking up towards the ceiling. “Please let this be what keeps me safe. Please keep me safe” I plead to the abyss hoping that someone out there was listening. Praying that something would be there to protect me. I wasn’t ready to die. This trip was meant for life. 

I scooted down the last step, my bottom landing with a plop on the unfinished basement floor. I ran my hands on the floor on either side of me sifting dirt through my fingers. Around me the walls dripped- everything was slick with moisture. It reminded me of more of a cave than a basement. My eyes slowly adjusted to the windowless room so that I could see a few feet in front of me. I took out the small keychain light from my pocket – it illuminated enough that I could get a better overall picture of the basement. It was large – larger than I thought possible. 

Had the cabin been this large upstairs? It hadn’t looked like it. 

I continued forward- finally hitting the other end of the basement. The wall was covered in a layer of brown, mossy type material. Footsteps creaked the floors upstairs, walking back and forth above me a few times. I listened closely trying to determine how many of them were. Based on the direction of the noises there had to be at least three more upstairs. But, it was impossible to tell for sure. I spun around when the basement door began to jiggle. It was faint at first and then the pounding became louder and more ferocious…more urgent accompanied by the animalistic whooping of a pack that had cornered their prey. I took a deep breath allowing the dank air to fill my lungs and slow my heart rate. I continued down the wall feeling the damp moss with my hand and using the flashlight to skim around planning my escape plan. My eyes locked on a small wooden panel to the right of me. It was a little less than half the size of a normal sized door. It would be tight but I could fit if I crouched and contorted myself a bit…  I yanked at the handle. The door creaked stubbornly but would not open. The noises above me continued to get more aggressive. The basement door was not going to hold much longer. I could hear the hinges giving way to the beating it was taking from the other side. 

“Come on,” I whispered through gritted teeth as I hoisted my body back gripping and pulling on the door with all of my might. There was a small groan of defiance as the compact door finally began to budge. I pulled again and the door swung open letting out a cry of defeat. The passage was short and narrow. I positioned myself back into my army crawl and hoisted my body through. The small door clamped shut behind me. I laid on my stomach in the tunnel-like passage gripping my miniature flashlight for dear life. Slime clung to my clothes. The small illumination from the flashlight revealed moss covered stone walls layered with cobwebs and 8 legged creatures. The passageway stretched before me, low, dark and narrow. 

I heaved myself forward through the passage until I reached another miniature door. I pushed my body weight against it until it creaked open revealing yet another small room. I clambored inside, closing the door behind me. Once closed, I could no longer hear the voices in the basement. Almost as if this new room was soundproof.  I searched for a lock, successfully snapping it into place. I held up my small light. The room was a small square. A replica of the passageway I had just crawled through – just larger and taller allowing me to stand fully if I wanted to. The room was empty- four stone walls and a dirt floor. Green, pointy leaves clung to the walls vining their way across the entire room. I had never seen anything like it. 

How were they living down here with no sunlight? How had they ended up down here?

I slang my bag on the floor, my back aching from carrying it for so many miles without a break. I positioned myself so that I was sitting with my back against one of the vine covered walls. My body was covered in slime and sweat. I could smell the anxiety coming off me along with the mildewy scent of the decrepit basement. I leaned my head against the wall willing my eyes to stay open. I was so tired all of a sudden. I blinked rapidly trying to keep myself awake but the complete silence was like a lullaby. My body ached. My leg stung. I could feel the makeshift tourniquet wet, soaked with blood. Sleep sounded so good right now. 

I felt a tickle on my wrist. Like someone was touching me with a feather. I lifted my arm. One of the vines had looped its way around my wrist like a gentle boa constrictor. The vine slowly wrapped further encasing my entire right arm. The tips of the green leaves feeling their way up my bicep, lightly exploring my skin. I tried to rip my arm away. The vines grip became tighter. Like a lover unwilling to let go. The skin on my arm began to turn a reddish color. It itched and burned as if hot water was being poured on me. I again tried to jerk my arm but the vines clung steadily. My brain felt like it was sitting in a cloud of fog. I tried to think. Tried to make a plan. But, there was nothing. The harder I worked to get my brain to restart, the more my body pushed for quiet, for rest. The sleepiness held thick over me. There was no panic. There was no anxiety. My leg had stopped hurting as if the pain had jumped up and ran away. There was nothing…other than the need to rest for a while. My eyes rolled in the back of my head, lids fluttering trying to keep them open but my eyelids felt like anvils. The vines wrapped further around me, encasing my legs and slowly creeping their way up my torso. They felt like a warm blanket. It was like they were swaddling me. As if they were saying it was all okay, I was safe. I stopped fighting, relishing in the feeling of being wrapped up in this tight, warm hug. My eyelids finally clamped shut. My heart rate slowed, now just a whisper in my chest. I allowed myself to succumb to the darkness…

Epilogue: 6 weeks later

Police crews infiltrated the desolate cabin. It was the most human presence this area of the woods had seen in over 50 years. Not many folks travel out to these parts…the forgotten areas. But that does not mean no human presence at all. For some, that’s how they prefer to live- no technology, no closets full of materialistic items, no grocery stores, no human interaction, just living off the land…and whatever else that may make its way through these woods. A small community of forest dwellers doing whatever it takes to survive. 

“Her cell phone last pinged in this area” stated the police captain, “she has got to be close.” 

Police made their way through the cabin, following the trail of dried blood to the basement. They knocked down the small paneled door revealing the tight passageway. A group of detectives smallest in stature made their way through the dim tunnel breaking their way through the second door, lighting the small, square room with their flashlights. Taking in the vines that weaved their way through every stone crevice on every wall. Their lights fell on her orange hiking pack strewn on the ground next to it a heap of vines, their shape resembling a body. Tufts of blonde hair poking out from the leaves. 

“Oh my god,” one of the detectives gasped. 

Another moved slowly towards the vines, gripping them carefully in his hands in order to pull them apart. Under the thick leaves laid Ophelia, her blonde hair now one with the vines. Her face blue and pale, lips parted slightly as if asleep. Her blue eyes closed, her face a calm expression in death. The tiny flashlight still gripped tightly in her hand. The detectives stared for a moment trying to conceive how this could have happened. 

“What kind of plant is that?” one detective asked, her mouth turned into a mortified frown. 

“They’re Virginia Creepers,” another answered quietly. 

A gurney was ordered. Vines were removed and Ophelia was wrapped tightly in a black body bag, leaves and pieces of plant still clinging to her limbs for dear life. Refusing to fully let her go. The detectives lifted her body onto the gurney, carefully navigating it through the passage, up the basement stairs and out the front door of the cabin. As her body made its way through the frame of the door a loud chorus of whooping rang out across the woods. 

“What the fuck,” one of the detectives gasped. 

The older detective beside him looked around at the treeline. Hand gingerly placed on his holster. 

“I didn’t realize they were still here. After all of these years…” he muttered quietly almost to himself. 

“Who?” the younger detective turned to him, concern etched across his face. 

“The Gaudet’s…rumor has it they came out to these woods over a century ago after they were chased out of town for incestual relations. I never believed the story myself but, my Grandad swore he encountered them once as a boy. Said he was lucky to survive,” he calmly explained. 

“There is no way… how could they survive out here for all of these years?” the other detective countered. 

“The land, the animals and many say…” he paused for a moment still staring at the treeline as if he had locked eyes with someone, “their favorite meal has always been hikers. Many have gone missing in these woods. We chalk it up to the elements, bears, anything tangible but in reality we have no idea where those people have gone, what or who might have taken them…we think we know these woods. But, we don’t. Never as well as we think we do”. 

To be continued (most likely)

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