The Winter Falls Occurrence

The winter of 1986 was one of the cruelest ones in a long time, and it changed my life forever. The residents of Winter Falls were used to this kind of weather, as the town is close to the Canadian border. There were heavy snowfalls for a few days. The ground froze up; it became harder than concrete. I’m sure the kids loved it… hell, I loved the snow too when I was a kid. But the situation was not so shiny for us security guards. Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself… I’m still so badly shaken by the events which happened on the night of the 17th of December.

My name is Casey Rogers, and I worked at Cold Hill Cemetery along with my partner, ‘Big’ Jim Anderson, a war veteran. The pay was decent, and it wasn’t a hard job. We did a few tours of the cemetery per night, and the rest of the time, we watched movies and drank beer or whiskey. I kept thinking why somebody needed two guards per night at a cemetery. Then I figured that the true reason for us being there was to guard the funeral home that was next to the cemetery. Richard Blackburn, the owner of the Blackburn Funeral Home, was a rich man, so he needed us. Even though he had an alarm system installed, he insisted we check the building periodically in his absence.

The night of the 17th, which was a Wednesday, was freezing and windy. We went to work at 8:00 p.m. Our shift would have been over at 8:00 in the morning. Unfortunately, it was over much too soon. We had a little cabin where we stayed when we were not searching the graveyard or the house. It had all the basics: electricity, running water, television and toilet. Mr. Blackburn trusted us very much, especially me. He was one of my father’s friends, and he gave me a set of keys to the funeral home.

The cabin was on the cemetery grounds, so we usually entered through the front gate. As we entered, in front of us was the little building. On the right was the funeral home and on the left was the cemetery. There was a chapel too, but it was at the other end. As usual, we expected nothing to happen, but we still checked our service pistols. Better safe than sorry. We put some food in the fridge and left the bottle of Jack on the table.

‘Let’s make our tours,’ said Jim as he turned the heater on. ‘Later we can watch some movies. Here, catch!’ He threw me my flashlight, then grabbed his.

‘All right, let’s do it,’ I said, then reluctantly stepped out.

The chill cut to the bone. I’ve never experienced a cold that harsh before. We sure needed that bottle of whiskey. Even Jim was wearing several layers of thick clothing, even though he was usually unfazed by the winters. He was as big as an ox, and as resilient as a Russian.

The snow was falling constantly, covering the ground in a thick blanket. It was already ankle-deep, and the caretaker had cleared the main paths in the cemetery grounds. We were happy we didn’t have to do it.

The cemetery was at least two hundred years old, and it was under the administration of the Blackburn family, along with the funeral home. A thick stone wall with beautiful decorations surrounded it. Now, worn by time and the elements, it proved to be a haunting sight; as if separating the realm of the living from the realm of the dead.

‘Let’s get this done quickly,’ said Jim. ‘I don’t want to be out here for too long.’

‘Me neither,’ I told him.

‘I don’t know, but for some goddamn reason, this place gives me the creeps.’

‘What? How come? You’ve been working here for some time.’

‘I know, but tonight it’s different. I feel weird.’

I don’t like to admit it, but I felt chills on my back when he said this.

‘Well, I guess it’s just the cold,’ I tried to shrug it off.

‘Maybe,’ he replied, then stopped.

‘What?’ I asked and saw him point his flashlight toward the northern wall.

‘What the hell was that?!’

Jim stepped back, and I saw it for a fraction of a second. A pair of glowing yellow eyes on top of the stone wall, which disappeared as soon as the light fell upon them.

‘I don’t know, I replied hesitantly. Maybe... maybe it was only a cat or some wild animal.’

‘It probably was, but it creeped me out. Never mind. Let’s finish the rounds and open that bottle of Jack.’

I agreed, so we picked up the pace. When we reached the guard’s quarters, the light inside went out. We looked at each other, and I noticed in Jim’s eyes more worry than usual.

‘Now, what?’ I asked.

‘Nothing. We wait. It’s probably caused by the weather,’ he replied. Oh, how wrong he was...

Then we heard the sound of breaking glass. It came from the funeral home.

‘Shit,’ Jim said, ‘someone’s breaking in.’

He began hurrying toward the funeral home. I followed. My heart was racing. The alarms were not working, since there was no electricity. We had to do something quickly. After reaching the main entrance, I used my keys to unlock the door. We were listening carefully all this time. No sounds came from inside, then suddenly the crack of rupturing wood, and a bang.

We stopped after opening the door. I saw on Jim’s face the same bewilderment which I was feeling. Jim switched off his flashlight, so did I. He drew his weapon. His moves were careful, but definite. My heart beat like crazy. I thought about drawing my gun. I hesitated, then finally drew it.

He took the lead, going toward the funeral parlor with careful steps. The sloppy sounds of ravenous chewing replaced the sounds of breaking wood. All kinds of scenarios were racing through my mind, but none of them were comparable to what I was about to see.

Before turning into the parlor, the smell of decay and embalming fluids hit our nose. It was horrible, and I was struggling to keep down my stomach’s contents. Seemingly, Jim was more resistant to the stomach churning stench of death than me.

When we stepped into the hall, we shone our lights toward the dais, where a coffin had been placed. Mr. Blackburn had to prepare one of the recently deceased for a funeral before leaving with his family. The funeral was scheduled to take place in two days, when Mr. Blackburn was supposed to come back. There, in front of the platform, lay the pieces of a coffin, pieces of a corpse, and a gray humanoid shape, which was crouching down. It seemed to be eating from the remnants. It was thin, and parts of sinew and flesh were visible on its body where no skin was present.

When the lights hit it, the creature looked at us and shrieked in frustration. It had the same yellow eyes, which we had seen before. Its mouth was full of thin, sharp teeth. Both Jim and I recoiled from the thing. Even though we had drawn our weapons, we forgot we had them in the first place.

‘What the hell?’

This was all Jim uttered. He just stared blankly at the thing, which then jumped like a cat toward the staircase to our right. The stairs were leading to the Blackburn family’s living quarters.

‘What now? Should we call the cops?’ I asked.

‘And tell them what? That a corpse-eating monster broke into the Blackburn funeral home?’

‘Well...’ I tried to reply, but I had no idea what to say.

‘Let’s try to scare it away, see at least. Whatever it is.’

To tell you the truth, I was hoping he would say we should run the hell away and never come back, but I knew him. Jim didn’t want to give up without a fight. He also did not want to leave his post. He used to be a soldier, after all. So, up onto the steps we went. Fortunately for us, these parts of the funeral home had been renovated recently, so the steps were not creaking. It seemed that putting people six feet underground was a profitable business. Until we find a way to stop dying, that is.

The stairs were leading to a hallway. We took careful steps and kept listening. No sound came from upstairs. There were no windows breaking nor doors creaking. When we turned into the hallway and shone our light into it, we saw the creature. It was facing the wall, staring at a picture.

Jim did not hesitate this time. He began firing his sidearm. The first few bullets hit their target. The creature screamed and jumped away with catlike agility, so the last few shots went into the wall. We ran to the spot where it was standing and noticed the black blood splatters on the floor and wall. It did not smell like human blood; it had a rancid, sulfurous stench.

The creature was gone, but it left a visible blood trail behind it. I looked at the picture on the wall, the one the creature was staring at. It was an old photograph, showing Richard Blackburn’s grandfather, Aaron Blackburn. He was the one who had first established the funeral home.

Aaron had been a man obsessed with death, after he had lost his wife and daughter to a deadly illness. They say he had succumbed to madness and meddled with the occult. Then he disappeared without a trace. His son inherited his business, then his grandson, Richard. I looked closely at the picture. There stood Mr. Aaron Blackburn, wearing his family’s signet ring. It must have been a few years before his disappearance.

‘Come on! What the hell are you staring at?’

Jim woke me up from my dreaming.

‘Nothing, I was just wondering why it was staring at the picture.’

‘Does it matter? Let’s kill it,’ he said while pointing to the blood, clearly implying that it can be killed.

I nodded, then we continued to search for it. The blood trail was leading into the dining room. And from there, toward the fireplace. We knew right away that it tried to escape through the chimney. Jim and I looked at each other, and we knew what we had to do. This time, I rushed to the fireplace with gun drawn. Jim came with the light.

Rustling sounds came from the chimney. It was clear to both of us what was happening. So, Jim shone the light inside the chimney, and I leaned in to shoot. It was too late, however. When I began shooting, it was already at the top, so it managed to escape.

‘All right,’ Jim said,’ now it’s time to call the cops.’

We went to the phone, which was in the same room. I picked up the receiver, but it was dead. I still tried to dial 911, but nothing happened. The wire had most likely been cut.

‘We have to go to the police,’ I said to Jim. He just nodded.

‘Let’s get out of here,’ he replied.

We went down the stairs, but then we heard sounds from the back door. We shone our lights there and saw as the creature was dragging a piece of the body from the coffin outside.

‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ I said and readied my weapon.

‘Let’s get it,’ said Jim, and headed straight for the back.

I followed him, and we had to go past the destroyed coffin. Pieces of a dead body lay everywhere. It was the body of a man who had hanged himself, and they had found his remains after two weeks. The sight and the stench were unbearable. No wonder it should have been a closed casket funeral.

We went outside through the back door. A trail of blood, guts, and rotten remains lay on the floor. It was easy to follow. But when we reached the backyard, then we did not see the monster. Only a piece of the dead man lay on the ground, left there in a hurry.

We immediately started looking around. The creature abandoned the prey, and we did not think it had just left. Jim saw something in the darkness and began shooting. Then we heard the clicking sound of an empty gun. I too pointed my pistol toward the darkness, but saw nothing. Jim threw his pistol away, then headed to the tool shed, which was nearby. He ran back out with an axe.

It was the right time, as I got knocked on the ground face down with great force. For a second, everything went black. Then I heard the screech of the creature which was on top of me. I felt sharp nails dig into my back, then Jim came to the rescue.

He swung the axe with such force that it cut the creature’s hand clean off. It screamed in pain, then jumped on Jim. It began clawing with one hand at Jim’s face and neck. Jim fought back and punched the thing several times, but it was enraged. I stood up and tried to shoot it, but the creature was clinging to Jim. I did not want to shoot my colleague.

In a few seconds, Jim collapsed to the ground, as the creature was tearing at him. Blood was gushing from Jim’s neck. I shot the creature several times. It recoiled, then stood back up. The shots had hurt it, but they were not enough. I don’t know what it was. No living thing should have survived so many shots.

I emptied the gun, then stood there with no clue what to do. The creature was clearly not dead, but it was weaker. Its movements were slowing down. I turned to run, but it still grabbed me. I turned to fight it off, but it hit me so hard, I lost consciousness.

I woke up in the hospital after the doctors patched me up. After I woke up, they checked on me, asked if I was all right. I said I was, but my head hurt. Of course, it hurt. The doctor told me I had a skull fracture. The creature hit me with such a force that it cracked my skull. Apparently, it was a miracle that I survived.

Then a police detective came into my room. He was a nice old fellow. A typical police officer, with the compulsory mustache and tobacco voice. He asked me questions, lots of them. He also told me that Jim was dead. His face and neck were mangled. Then, he showed me a photograph of the hand, which Jim had cut off. It was rotten, like it had been dug up from a grave. Then I saw the signet ring of the Blackburn family on the ring finger. That was when I knew what had happened to Aaron Blackburn.