Chapter 7 #2
While Travis saw to the business of running the shelter, Brent made a fresh pot of coffee and settled in to scour what he thought of as the advance warning system.
In reality, it was the tabloids dedicated to news of the weird, online sites for amateur monster trackers, and sensational chat boards for people who watched far too much Scooby-Doo as children.
Most of the discussion was utter dreck, with young men trying to top each other’s made-up stories or attention-seekers giving their imaginations free rein. But now and then, tucked in among the ridiculousness, people actually had real run-ins with the supernatural.
He skimmed past the “Sasquatch ate my dog” reports, glossed over the vanishing hitchhiker stories, and ignored the UFO sightings.
Many of the stories repeated familiar tales, one write-up barely different from another. Brent suspected the posters had fun spinning their stories and reacting to the comments. Then one of the items caught his eye.
“That’s different,” he murmured. He chugged some coffee and settled in to read. When Travis returned an hour later, Brent was ready. “I’ve found us a new case that might be related.”
Travis looked curious and slightly amused. “Hit me with the details,” He poured a cup of coffee and sat across from Brent.
“Ever hear of the town of Livermore?” Brent asked.
Travis shook his head. “Nope.”
“How about the Conemaugh River Lake?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“Livermore was razed and flooded as part of the project to make the dam,” Brent said. “There are a surprising number of old coal, timber, and railroad towns that got knocked down and covered with water when all the dams were built. Livermore just comes with more lore than most.”
“Yeah?” Travis took a long gulp of hot coffee and savored the moment. Brent knew that while Travis tried hard to show his support and concern for St. Dismas’s residents, the sheer volume of need often left him exhausted.
“The official record says that the town was badly damaged after several floods, which is part of why the dam was built there,” Brent told him.
“There were other factors as well—I’ll spare you those details—but the dam seemed like the best alternative at the time.
By the time they cleared the land, not many people were left to relocate.
That’s where the stories get interesting. ”
Brent warmed to the subject. “Some of them say that the town was flooded intact, but the buildings were actually torn down first. The cemetery, which isn’t underwater, is said to be very haunted.”
“That’s interesting, but where’s the case?” Travis asked. The back-and-forth was a familiar pattern, banter that both of them enjoyed.
“They say the lake is haunted by the ghost of a witch who lures people to their death,” Brent replied.
“Supposedly, she was a stubborn old lady who told fortunes and refused to leave when they cleared everyone else out, or she snuck back in afterward, the stories differ. Point being, she didn’t leave when the waters rose and drowned.
She cursed the builders of the dam and vowed that she would stay forever. ”
“Did she? Haunt the lake?” Travis took another gulp, and Brent could see how tired his friend was in the set of his shoulders.
“According to the urban legends, yes,” Brent said.
“There have been a series of unfortunate accidents since the lake was created. Boats capsized and the pilots drowned, that sort of thing. Probably happens at every lake, but the stories people told said that the ghostly form of a woman was seen nearby right before the tragedy, and that she could be heard wailing.”
“Creepy. And probably mostly made up,” Travis replied.
“Except that there have been three fatalities and two near-tragedies over the last couple of months,” Brent pointed out.
“And the last hunters who went to dispel her ended up dead. The official report says ‘animal attack’ but didn’t specify what kind of animal, and the area isn’t known for anything larger than deer. No bears, mountain lions, or wolves.”
“And the cemetery?”
“People have claimed to see ghosts there since the dam was built. They also say they feel watched or just get a creepy feeling.” Brent glanced at his notes. “No reported deaths or injuries. But there are other stories about a monster in the woods that sound more dangerous.”
“Monster?” Travis finished his coffee, stood, and poured himself another cup.
“Ol’ Red Eyes. He shows up to warn of looming catastrophe. Covered with dark fur, has bat wings, and red eyes,” Brent said. “Sort of like the Mothman in West Virginia lore, but the stories don’t say that he attacks anyone, just appears before something bad happens.”
“Yet another omen,” Travis said with a sigh.
“There’s a lot of woods out there,” Brent remarked, toying with his empty cup. “I know people go hunting and tramp around, but some of the territory is pretty rugged. It’s not impossible that there are creatures who hide, especially if they have supernatural abilities.”
“So do you want to go after the witch, or Ol’ Red Eyes?” Travis asked.
Brent glanced at his partner to make sure he wasn’t kidding, but Travis looked quite serious. “Let’s deal with the witch, since her appearances are tied to recent fatal accidents and two dead hunters. We can check for Ol’ Red Eyes afterward.”
“What about the vampires?” Travis’s fingers drummed on the lip of his mug.
“The dam is close enough we can go out and come back in daylight. Should keep the vamps off our tail while we wait to hear from Sorren and do a little more digging.”
“Okay. Beats sitting around waiting for something to get the jump on us,” Travis said. “Any reason we can’t go tomorrow?”
Brent shook his head. “I’ve got a couple of new detective cases coming up, but not until next week. Gotta pay the rent. But tomorrow’s open.”