Evil in the Canyon

Evil In the Canyon

It was one of those mornings only a few people are privileged to witness. Hunters, and some hikers are counted among the privileged few. Hunters because they rise early to be in their blinds before dawn make an appearance. Day hikers starting their hike before dawn in order to complete their hike before sundown. The morning air was cool, stars still shown bright in the sky, and the only discernable sound was the sound my boots made against the hard ground.

This particular morning, I was ahead of my scheduled time to make the upper end of the dry canyon before the sun made an appearance, so I allowed myself a couple of stops to enjoy the serenity of my surroundings. As I mentioned, few people are afforded the opportunity to witness the dimming of the stars making way for the first rays of light to appear on the eastern horizon and this lucky man was going to grab the mornings opportunity.

I had stopped and leaned my frame against a large boulder at the entrance to the canyon. I have always loved the silence one can only experience in some remote location, far removed from the sounds of civilization. I listened, trying hard to detect the slightest sound, but the morning offered nothing.

My mornings destination was about a half mile up the canyon to a small grove of aspen trees. I had hunted elk there a few years back with much success and I was hoping for the same today. The canyon was situated on public hunting land bordered on the south side by a very large private ranch. The canyon being at the farthest end of the public hunting tract certainly discouraged most hunters from hunting the canyon. Reaching the canyon required an hour’s hike from the nearest road. It would be necessary to hike in the dark in order to reach the canyon before dawn and not many hunters were willing to take that walk in the dark. Myself, I never minded walking in the dark. I actually enjoy a good walk in the dark. I grew up in the mountains of Southwestern Virginia and as a boy, I would often go for night hikes with my brothers in the fall.

I noticed a few more rays of light had appeared on the eastern horizon although the brightest of the stars were still visible in the sky.

I took one last drink of water from my canteen and returned it to my backpack. I picked up my rifle and took one last look around when suddenly I heard a sound that can only be described as unworldly. The sound or scream reverberated down the canyon from the direction of the aspen grove. The scream could not be identified as either human or beast. I found myself on full alert, my body gripped with tension. I found myself unconsciously holding my rifle in the ready position with the safety off. The morning was beginning to reclaim its’ stillness when a large group of blackbirds soared over my head at blinding speed, no doubt spooked by the eerie sound that had echoed from the canyon.

As the blackbirds disappeared across the valley, an eerie silence reclaimed the morning. The silence that now enveloped the canyon was worlds apart from the silence just a mere two minutes ago. What started out as a beautiful serene morning was now a morning filled with apprehension and, yes, a little bit of fear.

The scream or whatever the hell it was, put me in a place I could not recall ever being in before. I had hunted for over twenty years and never feared anything in the night. The way I figured it I

had never encountered anything at night that was not there in the daylight. But this scream was

different...it was the scream of terror, of fear, and maybe even the scream of death.

I leaned back against the boulder and tried to slow my breathing. While leaning on the boulder, my rifle remained ready just in case whatever made that horrific sound made a sudden appearance.

As the minutes passed by, I began to relax a little and as my breathing slowed my thinking became clearer. Was I overreacting, maybe the scream was a sound that had come from a wild animal in the canyon and the canyon itself had amplified or modified the original sound. That had to be the answer. Maybe the sound came from a coyote or an elk. As the tension left my body and my breathing became normal, I convinced myself that there was nothing to fear and decided to proceed to my hunting destination. As I took my first steps something in the back of my mind reminded me to remain alert. I would remain alert, but I cam here to hunt elk and a strange scream was not going to prevent me from doing that. Besides I had a .270 rifle that was loaded and ready to use, if necessary.

I took slow careful steps as I traversed the canyon. I did not want to spook any elk that I came across and the other thing that raced across my mind was to not spook whatever made that death scream. About halfway to the aspen grove a sudden feeling of terror descended over my body. My body was suddenly chilled and the hair on my neck and arms stood up. I stopped to look around and tried to calm my body. As I scanned the area in half light, I saw the movement of a dark shadow about twenty- five yards away. I strained to identify the movement but it disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. The morning that had started out so full of promise had taken a sharp turn and was now becoming a morning filled with tension and confusion. I started to ask myself the question, should I continue up the canyon or backtrack and abandon the hunt totally. The one thing I never wanted to think of myself as, is a coward in the woods.

I took in a few deep breaths and decided, there was nothing to fear and if I was going to hunt today, I needed to get going. More rays of light penetrated the sky from the east, not enough light to brighten the morning yet, but enough to send me on my way up the canyon toward the aspen grove. No strange sound or imagined shadow was going to interrupt what promised to be a beautiful morning to hunt elk.

I could now see a silhouette of the aspen trees up ahead. I also noticed that the air temperature had dropped more than a few degrees and a light fog was forming in the upper portion of the canyon.

The fog seemed to be moving slowly down the canyon and would soon obstruct my view of the aspen grove. I had stopped to get a good fix on the aspen grove before it was obscured by the fog when I noticed a shadow moving slightly ahead and to my right.

My body reacted again to a feeling I can only describe as part tension and part terror. Goose bumps made a sudden appearance on my arms, the hair on my neck and arms stood up, and my body stiffened. My heart rate became elevated and again my breathing became rapid and shallow. I stared in the direction in the direction of the shadowy movement but it again disappeared.

I decided to take a seat on a large boulder, trying to calm my nerves. After all, if there was something out there, I had my trusty .270 loaded and ready. I clutched the rifle in my hands like a baby clutches a security blanket. After a few moments sitting on the rock my breathing and heart rate was slowly being restored to normal but my nerves were another matter. I sat on the rock and tried to rationalize the morning events. Did I really see a shadow moving or had the eerie scream earlier in the morning unnerved me to the point of seeing things. What could possibly be in the canyon that would

want to harm me. I quickly came to the conclusion that the scream, which I could not identify with any certainty, had caused me to become a little unnerved.

As I sat on the rock, I noticed the fog was now moving rapidly down the canyon and, in fact, was now enclosing me and my rock in a blanket so thick that my visibility was limited to about three feet.

I smiled a little when I thought about me recounting this story to my hunting buddies. We would be drinking beer around a camp fire on one of our hunting trips exchanging hunting stories trying to tell one better than the last guy told. I would recount in great detail this mornings’ events and how one scream in the early morning darkness had caused me to become so unnerved that I decided to abandon the hunt. My buddies would laugh and make fun of me but I would not care.

I had decided to abandon the hunt strictly because the morning had been ruined early and it was not getting better. I was going to walk back down the canyon, hike the hour to my truck and get the hell out of here.

The problem now was the damn fog. The fog was so thick I could not follow the trail I used to get to this point. I viewed this as a minor problem because the way I figured it, the fog had not moved too far down the canyon and I would certainly clear the fog in a few hundred yards or so. The other advantage I had was my return out of the canyon was all downhill. Even if I could not see more than three feet, all I needed to do was walk downhill. Eventually, I would walk out of the fog and then I could easily find my way out of the canyon. I retrieved my canteen from my backpack and took a long drink, returned the canteen and stood up to start my long hike to the truck.

I remember taking a few steps forward, and then my world went dark. The next thing I recall is opening my eyes to see a bright sun and feeling its’ warm rays on my body. I was not sure where I was or how long I had been here. I tried to shade my eyes from the sun to get a sense of where I was but something besides the rays from the sun prevented me from seeing clearly. I touched my face and realized my face was covered with a dried substance. My head ached with a pain like no other I had ever felt. I gently touched my forehead and found a swollen lump as large as a baseball. I tried sitting up but the pain in my head was too much. I was extremely thirsty…I needed my water from the backpack. I managed to roll over and remove my backpack. I retrieved the canteen and drank most of the contents. I used the remaining water to clean what I now knew was blood from my eyes.

I struggled to understand what had happened in the fog. I am as sure footed as a mountain goat, so I know I did not fall. I would have remembered if I had tripped, so what happened? I remember taking only a few steps when I saw what I remember as a flash of light, then nothing until now.

I looked at my watch and saw that it was 11:19. If this was Wednesday, the day I went hunting, then I had been out for over five hours. My watch did not give me the date or the day, so this could be Thursday or Friday. Most hunts I carry my cell phone but today, if it is today, I knew there would be no cell service, so I left it in the truck.

I finally managed to set upright although the intense pain in my head brought on extreme nausea. I resisted the urge to lie back down. I was trying to revive the mornings events in my mind but clarity avoided me.

I remember leaving my truck and arriving at the entrance to the canyon about an hour later. I recall the morning being so beautiful and quiet. It seemed the harder I tried to remember the more my head hurt.

I decided at this point it did not matter that my recall abilities were impaired. All that did matter was to obtain medical treatment as quick as possible. I tried to stand and quickly gave up on my first attempt. The severe pain in my head had distracted me from realizing that I had also incurred a substantial shoulder injury. With great effort, I was able to stand on my second attempt. I was finally standing, sort of. I was on my feet but I was bent over at the waist. I found it necessary to remain in this position for the next 3-4 minutes due to extreme nausea. When I finally managed to stand completely upright, I nearly lost my balance. I quickly leaned against a large boulder for support.

The vision in my left eye was very limited due to the swelling of the baseball size lump on my forehead. The longer I remained standing the better my balance became but the excruciating pain in my head was relentless. I suddenly remembered I always carried a small first aid kit in my backpack, and among the items in the kit was a few packets of pain medication. I quickly bent down the retrieve my backpack and realized that moving quickly, to do anything, was not going to be an option. I nearly toppled head first onto the rocky ground. I regained my balance and slowly bent down on my knees and removed the first aid kit from my backpack. I opened two of the pain relief packets and swallowed them without water. The first aid kit also contained a small roll of gauze which I wrapped around my forehead. Although the bleeding had stopped for now, I figured the gauze was a good insurance policy in case the bleeding started again. I remained sitting on the ground resting my good shoulder on my backpack and formulating a plan that would get me back to civilization. I considered leaving my backpack but reason and my survival skills told me that I might need some of the things inside the backpack. If I didn’t make it out before dark, I would need my Fire starter, maybe my thermal blanket and definitely my water filter. I decided I could carry the backpack over my one good shoulder. At that moment I thought about my

.270. I quickly surveyed the area around me and did not see my rifle.

Throughout the time after waking up, I had no inclination to panic or feel desperate but realizing my rifle was no where to be seen sent me soaring towards the edge of panic. Where was my rifle, my protector, my peace of mind. I took another look around with the same result. If whatever happened to me, happened to be on this spot, then how could my rifle be missing. There was only one

explanation…someone or something took it.

I was now in full desperation mode. I had to exit this canyon quickly. As I stood with my backpack on my one good shoulder, I realized how close to the aspen grove I was. I thought back to the early morning in the half light and surmised there was no way I was this close to the aspen grove, or was I? At this point all I was sure of was that I wanted to leave this canyon far behind.

I started off slowly making my way downhill being very careful with each step. I had traveled about a hundred yards when I saw something lying on the ground ahead. I stared at the object for a moment before realizing that lying in front of me was my .270 rifle. A feeling of relief and security rushed over me. I hurried as best I could, and picked up my trusted friend. I examined the rifle closely and declared it was in perfect working order. A question quickly popped into my head. What was my rifle doing one hundred yards from where I had been out for five hours? I took a closer look around the area where I had picked up the rifle and noticed fairly large spots of dried blood. Why was there dried blood here when I was one hundred yards up the canyon. Had my accident happened here and I crawled up the canyon? That made no sense. The pain medication I had taken was not working, and trying to make sense of something I did not understand was making the pain worse.

I decided the only concentrating I would do on this day was to concentrate on my footing in order to extract myself from this canyon.

The trip back to my truck went smoothly enough. I was forced to travel slowly carrying my backpack and rifle over my good shoulder. I was fortunate to cross a small trickle of water on my way back. I stopped for a good hour to filter some water and let my body rest. I arrived back at my truck just as the sun was setting in the west. The nearest hospital was about 45 miles away. I immediately headed that way.

I walked through the emergency room doors and was immediately taken to an examining room. I must have looked a fright because I was descended upon by two nurses and the emergency room doctor. While the doctor examined my head wound the nurses were asking how I had sustained such wounds. I replied that it was some type of hunting injury. I had refused to use the word accident because I was not sure that it was an accident.

About a half hour after entering the emergency room, a county deputy sheriff entered my room but was promptly asked to save any questions he had until I had been x-rayed and my head had been stitched. One of the nurses would let him know when I would be available for questions. Emergency rooms are notorious for the slow pace at which they operate. This one was no exception. I was taken for x-rays, then back to the room where I lay for what seemed like hours, but in reality, was only 30 min or so. Next, I was wheeled to another room for more waiting. Finally, the doctor came in with a nurse and explained that he would be stitching the large gash on my forehead. The cleaning process was more painful than the actual stitching. The doctor finished and said he would return in a few minutes after washing up. Here, I was again stuck in a room waiting.

All the waiting had the beneficial effect of allowing me time to better recall the morning’s events. I was starting to remember some of the morning’s events. I was starting to remember details. The first major detail I remembered was the horrible scream. This detail brought on two emotions, dread and fear. The latter accompanied by chills and goose bumps. I started to recall the moving shadows and the thick fog. But no matter how hard the effort, I could not recall the details of my head wound.

The doctor re-entered the room and explained that whatever caused the large bump on my head had also brought with it a major concussion. He explained that I was going to need at least two weeks of no activity in order for my brain to heal. I could return in about ten days and he would remove the stitches or my personal physician could remove them. The doctor indicated that deputy Pearson would be in momentarily to ask me some questions. I thanked the doctor and he exited the room.

Deputy Pearson entered the room and introduced himself. He indicated he was here to take a statement, and I could tell he was not overjoyed to be here. Deputy Pearson asked a few routine questions, and then asked me to relay how I had injured myself. I went through the entire morning’s events but told him I could not recall how I had sustained the head injury. I told him I had decided to abandon the hunt when I had taken a few steps back down the canyon everything suddenly went black and the next thing I remember was waking up five hours later laying on the ground.

So, do you think you fell, he asked with a slight smirk. After all, you said you were a little unnerved, again the smirk. I told him there was no way I fell. If I had I would have remembered. But you can’t remember, he said. Maybe you are a little embarrassed to admit that you might have panicked and stumbled. I was ready to leave this place, so I just said I didn’t remember.

Deputy Pearson was finishing up his report when I suddenly remembered the rifle incident. I explained how I had found my rifle a good hundred yards down the canyon from where I had awakened. He simply said, “Things roll downhill”, and the smirk reappeared. If we need any further information, I will contact you and with that that deputy Pearson left the room.

The doctor re-entered the room, handed me a couple of hand-written prescriptions for a muscle relaxer and a pain medication, and told me I was discharged

As part of my treatment at the hospital, I had received a couple of pain pills which had reduced my head pain to a bearable throbbing. On the twenty-five-mile drive home, I went over the events of the day trying to dissect and rationalize everything that had occurred, but I could not rationalize everything. The thought that maybe deputy Pearson was correct, started to infiltrate my mind. Maybe I actually had panicked and stumbled.

As I lay asleep in my bed that first night back home, I started having strange dreams about the canyon. My dreams were so vivid that when I awakened, I had a sense that I had actually been to the canyon again. The next morning, I attributed the night’s strange dreams to a combination of the pain meds and the concussion I had sustained. In the following weeks, I experienced more canyon dreams, dark vivid dreams, dreams that I wanted to dispense from my head. The newest dreams were now accompanied by the scream, yes, the same scream I had heard in the canyon that morning. Each of these strange dreams would only end when the scream occurred. The scream always had the same effect on me, I would bolt upright in bed and although I would be sweating, I always felt a freezing chill throughout my body.

Two weeks had passed since my injury and still the dreams persisted, every one more vivid and more real than the last one. I was no longer taking any medications and my physician determined I had recovered fully from my concussion, but the dreams continued. My physician prescribed a sleep medication in the hope that a deep sleep would stop the canyon dreams. That hope was quickly dashed over the following weeks, more dreams, more screams, each night they continued.

As my memory of the canyon events became clearer and more focused, I started to evaluate my actions in the canyon that fateful morning. Never in my life had I doubted my courage, but I was starting to come to the conclusion that I acted in a less than brave manner in the canyon. For me, and, in fact most men, that realization is something that we must keep in secret. There can be only one cure, return to the scene and face your fears head on.

Sometimes the burden of memory destroys the rational thinking of all men. I had my memories of what transpired that morning in the canyon, and although they are sometimes confusing one fact remained dear, I had run away from the unknown. I should have had the courage to dispel my fears. I must now return to the canyon.

Over the next months, the dreams continued. Some of the dreams were of a dark shadowy figure moving silently through the canyon, others were of the aspen grove turning black for no known reason, other dreams were of a scent so putrid that it sent blackbirds, in great numbers, tumbling from the sky. The most terrifying of all the dreams were the ones where I found myself floating in the canyon and no matter the extent of my effort, I could never find my way out of the canyon. Each dream unto itself was unnerving and terrifying, but the conclusion of the dreams was what would stab one’s soul and carry it away, the scream.

With each successive nights passing, the urgency to return to the canyon became greater. I realized I must return in order to stop the dreams. Something akin to gravity was pulling me back to the canyon. A man’s fears, if not confronted, will destroy his mind and soul.

I had determined that returning to the canyon before spring was impractical, so I set my sights on April. I knew that by April, the snows will have melted, making travel to the canyon an easy endeavor. As each month dragged on, I became obsessed with my plan to revisit the canyon. In order to vanquish my fears, I must enter the canyon before sunrise, same as before. I would traverse the same route as before. I planned to hike to the aspen grove, explore the area for a couple of hours after sunup and then exit the canyon and return to my truck. If I encountered anything unusual along the way, my plan would be to confront it head on, no doubts, no speculation, no fears. I knew in my heart I had the courage, all I needed now was to prove it.

A necessary part of my plan was to notify my brother of my plan. A few days after my injury I had visited my brother Rick, and recited in great detail the events of my canyon trip. In typical brother fashion Rick teased me about falling and injuring myself and then making up a good story to impress my hunting buddies. After a few moments of good natured ribbing, Rick realized I was serious and his face showed concern. Now months later as I laid out my plans to return to the canyon, Rick insisted that he should accompany me on my return to the canyon for safety’s sake. My plan was to regain my courage and stop those damn dreams, Rick tagging along would not allow me to do that.

I gave Rick the details for my planned trip, which included, a map showing the location of the canyon, the date and time I would be leaving and the time I could be expected back. If I had not returned by nightfall Rick was instructed to call the county sheriffs office and notify them. Although a little unsettled, Rick agreed to do as instructed and wished me luck.

The night before my return to the canyon, I packed everything I thought I would need into my day pack. I would carry, a little snack food, enough water for the journey, a knife, a compass, and the most important item, my 9 mm handgun and two clips. If I did indeed encounter trouble, I wanted to be ready.

I fell asleep on that last night and the dreams arrived right on schedule. This night’s dream was different in a way that is hard to describe. In place of the usual chaos, this night’s dream offered a more serene setting. I saw the shadowy figure sitting on a rock above the canyon wall. He or she was staring intently into the canyon as if trying to discern some sort of movement. I watched as the sitting figure rose from the rock as if preparing for an event unfolding in the canyon, as suddenly as the dream appeared it ended. While this dream had a totally different feel than the others, the real difference came at the end of the dream, there was no scream. All of my other dreams had ended with that

terrifying scream. Even without the scream, when the dream ended, I once again sat bolt upright in bed although I was neither cold nor sweating.

The next morning as I walked the hour to the entrance of the canyon, I revisited last night’s

dream and tried to make some rational sense of it’s meaning. Why was last night’s dream so different? Why had the scream not come at the end? Why was the shadowy figure sitting above the canyon? The more I tried to make sense of the dream the more confused I became. I was now approaching the canyon entrance and decided to give up on the dream and concentrate on the task ahead.

I took a break at the entrance to the canyon in order to collect my thoughts and do a mental check of today’s plans. My objective would be the aspen grove at the upper end of the canyon. As I recited today’s plan in my mind, I came to the realization, that the aspen grove was my physical

objective. My real objective was of the mental kind. I was here to regain my mental balance which the canyon had extracted from me six months prior.

This morning was very similar weather wise to my last trip to the canyon. The air was cool but not cold, the sky was possessed by a few clouds but was mostly dominated by a million brilliant stars. It was a great morning for a hike up the canyon and back. I was feeling confident, strong, and ready to face the challenges of the canyon. If I had known what was in store for me today, I would have abandoned my quest, returned home and confronted my fear and those awful dreams in the friendly confines of home. No one ever knows what lays ahead on any given day and today J J Stanwick was about to discover that fears are sometimes all to real.

The trip up the canyon was without incident, no shadowy figure, no fog, and best of all no scream. I was feeling more relaxed with each step. I let my mind drift to different places and different times. Most of my thoughts were of the pleasant type, I thought of family and friends, of trips I had taken, of different people I had encountered in my 43 years on planet earth. I thought about, the age old question of fate. How much does fate factor in on one’s journey through life. Is fate really a factor at all or are our lives somehow predetermined. How does meeting certain people along life’s journey factor in. Are we supposed to meet these people or is it just random? I had always believed our fate was somehow chosen for us and we just needed to follow the script. I was not sure what fate had in store for me on this day, but I felt sure I was where fate wanted me to be.

The morning light had now vanquished the stars. The aspen grove was now in full view, a mere two hundred yards ahead. I stopped a moment to assess my surroundings. With each passing moment, more light penetrated the canyon. I could now clearly see to the opposite wall of the canyon. I took a couple of swallows of water and moved toward the aspen grove.

The aspen grove was on the small size, maybe a total of about 90-100 trees, but it was the distinguishing feature of the canyon. I had decided to skirt around the grove and enter from the back side due to the act that the front entrance was guarded by a sizeable ravine.

I was approaching the western edge of the grove when I heard, in the distance, the sound of a motorized vehicle. I stopped and listened as the sound steadily increased. The vehicle was heading in the direction of the canyon. I now recognized the sound as that coming from some type of ATV. I was not alarmed by the sound of the ATV since the canyon was bordered by the large ranch. I figured the ATV probably belonged to the ranch driven by one of the ranch hands on fence patrol duty. The ATV stopped out of site somewhere near the rim of the canyon. Knowing that the ATV was close somehow gave me peace of mind.

I had decided earlier that if I encountered no trouble up the canyon, then I would spend the two hours I had allotted myself exploring around the aspen grove. I moved slowly around the aspen grove

while scanning the ground for signs of wildlife. I was now back in my old form as a hunter, looking for wildlife patterns, enjoying the fresh morning air, doing the things that men who hunt, enjoy the most. How did I ever let myself think, even for a moment, that there was anything in the canyon that meant me harm. I was now ready to join the majority, I must had fallen that morning in the canyon, and hit my head. I now realized that the dreams and my fuzzy recall were the result of the severe concussion.

I had made my way to the back side of the aspen grove when a strange feeling took over my conscience. I suddenly felt that I was being watched. Goose bumps appeared on my arms my body became chilled. I stopped to survey my surroundings but saw nothing but aspen trees and rocks. The strange feeling persisted as I entered the aspen grove. A few feet into the aspen grove, what I saw roped onto one of the trees, brought my body to an abrupt halt and sent my mind into overdrive.

There before me was what appeared to be an animal, or what was left of an animal, tied to a tree. Why would someone tie an animal to a tree in this remote canyon? I inched forward a few feet in order to get a closer look although my mind said get the hell out of here. My mind raced, was this where I was going to revive my courage? I took in a couple of deep breaths and tried to think clearly. Maybe the animal was just a deer or elk someone had field dressed, that made complete sense. I myself had done that more than a few times.

I was about thirty feet away when my eyes brought the hammer of reality to my brain. What was tied to the tree I now recognized as a human form. I had been concentrating solely on the one tree and did not realize that not more than twenty feet away, to my left, was a second human form also tied to a tree. Real fear now gripped my body. I wanted to run but my legs resisted. My mind was racing, what had I stumbled upon?

Instinct dictated that I pull my 9 mm and release the safety. I needed to get out of this place and fast. I decided to skirt around the right side in order to avoid the bodies and make my way to the front of the grove. This would also be the shortest route to the mouth of the canyon. I tried not looking at the deformed figures but my eyes wondered that way in protest to my mind. The beings themselves were not something a man could ever forget. The bodies were badly decomposed but what was left of their faces had a haunting look of terror. Panic and fear are two things a man should avoid in life but at this moment my body reeked of both.

In my haste to remove myself from this canyon, I abandoned all caution. I ran, stumbled, and even crawled a couple of times before reaching the edge of the aspen grove. I stepped out into the sunlight and instantly felt a wave of relief flood over my body. I wasn’t sure that I was entirely safe but at least I no longer had the bodies staring at me. I scoured the terrain for the shortest way around the deep ravine that I stood above. As my eyes veered to the right side of the canyon, I saw a figure sitting on a large rock holding something in his hand. My mind instantly recognized the figure from last nights dream. The figure was staring intently in my direction. There comes a time in most everyone’s life when confusion is the only occupant of your mind. J.J. was now in the clutches of confusion, was the figure on the rock good or evil?

J.J. Stanwick never heard the sound or saw the vessel that delivered his fate that day. There was a flash of light, then intense pain for the briefest amount of measurable time. Then there was darkness.

Rescue crews entered the canyon early the following morning and found the body of J.J. Stanwick at the bottom of the steep ravine. The rescue crews also found the bodies of seven young women, some of which had been in the aspen grove for more than two years. It would take months to identify all of the young victims. The incident was echoed around the nation on national news programs.

J.J. Stanwick got his 15 minutes of fame for bringing to a close the killing streak of two of the most

prolific serial killers in the USA.

After months of investigation, the complete story of the canyon killings was revealed. Two ranch hands from the nearby ranch would kidnap young women, bring them to the canyon and make sure they never left. The youngest of the two confessed and gave details of all the killings, including J.J. Stanwick’s. He related how on J.J.’s first trip to the canyon the pair were able to slip through the fog and deliver, what they thought was a fatal blow to J.J.’s head. They had planned to carry J.J. up to the aspen grove for disposal but stopped along the way when the fog suddenly lifted. The plan was to return after nightfall and resume their task but when the two returned they were astonished to find J.J. missing. The scream J.J. heard that morning was indeed the death scream of their last victim. After the close call with

J.J., the pair decided to stop their activities in the canyon and lay low.

The reality is J.J. in an unknowing way did stop the killings. How did the pair know that J.J. had returned to the canyon that fateful morning? It was just J.J.’s pure bad luck or maybe it was J.J.’s fate. The pair often patrolled above the canyon and on that fateful morning they spotted a movement in the canyon and J.J. Stanwick came face to face with the, evil in the canyon.