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Hell’s Half Acre

11 Oct

Hell's Half Acre - Wyoming

Hello! I had said in my last post that for the rest of the month of October my posts will be of the spooky variety. I believe I am definitely delivering on that today. The following story is based on true facts as witnessed by a friend of mine that prefers to remain anonymous. Now I have to warn you, this true story is not for the faint of heart. My friend claims this story is true and since the incident occurred he and his friends had not spoken of it…until now.

^CLICK PLAY

 

 

 

Here is his story…

Between the scraggly Florida bushes and the misting rain, Kit could barely make out the two small tire tracks where the remains of a road used to be. She was sitting in the backseat of the pickup truck, behind the guy she was trying so hard to be brave for and his best friend beside him. She chose the backseat because she felt that if she were behind him, he wouldn’t let anything get her. Kit’s best friend was sitting beside her as the four of them slowly made their way down the winding path, farther and farther into the woods.
In a voice as brave as she could muster, trying to hide the trembling from the shivers running up and down her spine, she said, “Why do they call this place Hell’s Half Acre?”

creepy woods

Johnny looked at her in the rearview mirror. The lights from the dashboard reflected ever so elegantly in her already bright green baby doll eyes. He could see she had her light brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, exposing the soft curves of her face.
With a smile he replied, “The story goes that in the 1930’s, a schoolteacher took her class out to the old sawmill on a field trip. That sawmill is where her husband had worked. One day while she was teaching at school, he disappeared, along with their three children. She didn’t know what had happened to them, and the unknowing was said to have driven her insane. That day at the mill, she killed all the children in her class before committing suicide. They say sometimes at night, you can still hear the old mill running, even though it was completely abandoned in the 60’s. There hasn’t been any power out here since it closed. They also say she has been seen walking down the road at night in a white dress stained with the blood of the children she murdered.”

Old, abandoned haunted Mill

Old, abandoned haunted Mill

Even though Kit usually found Johnny’s voice soft and soothing, the longer he talked, the more his words swept through her like a cold winter wind, chilling her to the bone. She had been raised in a church that believed in heaven and hell, demons and angels. Maybe that was one of the reasons she decided to come out here tonight—to see if everything she had been taught was true. Maybe she could bring some reality to match the faith she was told was so necessary.
Now Johnny was talking with Cody. Kit couldn’t really hear what they were saying, nor did she care. She focused on the schoolteacher’s story and on the old Live Oak trees that reached out above the grass-covered road as though they were trying to suck all the light out of the world.

Old live oak trees
“Kit, you gonna make it girl?” Shelley was leaning across the seat looking at her.
Her real name was Kathleen, but her friends called her Kit, short for Kit Kat. She turned from the window and looked at Shelley, who was such a great friend. When Kit first moved to town, Shelley was the first person she met, and for some reason, they just clicked.
“Yeah, I’m good.” That was the best lie she could come up with at the moment.
As the last of the light faded from the day, the rain started to fall more vigorously. Lightning lit up the sky, which only made the Live Oaks’ reaching arms seem that much creepier.
Johnny looked back over his shoulder. “Around this next corner, there should be a sign that says ‘Entering Hell’s Half Acre.’ Help me look for it, alright? They say not to drive your truck past the sign. Said it pisses the woman off!”
As they rounded the corner, Cody hollered. Johnny, who was still looking over his shoulder, spun back around and hit the brakes all in one motion. With no warning, the engine died. Without its constant hum, there was nothing to hide the thumping of Kit’s heart.

 
A loud clap of thunder shook the truck. The four friends stared out the front windshield. Kit’s fingers gripped the door handle of the truck so hard, she could no longer feel her fingers. At the right front quarter panel of the truck, covered in small green and brown vines, was the old sign: ‘Entering Hell’s Half Acre’.
A woman stood in front of the truck, peering back at them through long, wet, pitch-black hair and with eyes red from the tears of blood she had been crying.

Ghost of crazy teacher that murdered the children

Ghost of crazy teacher that murdered the children

Another flash of lightning and a loud clap of thunder. Kit’s heart raced faster and faster. She was frozen. Everything in her wanted to scream, but her chest was so tight that she couldn’t even make herself breathe.

Kit staring at the unbelievable!

Kit staring at the unbelievable!

Underneath the wind-driven raindrops that crashed against the windows of the truck floated the whir of large saws starting up and the screams of horrified children. Kit could see Johnny desperately trying to restart the truck. The engine was dead!

 
The wind blew harder, as though this hell storm was solely concentrated on that one horrid half acre of the world forgotten by God. Another loud scream from a child—so much pain and fear in the sound that it penetrated Kit’s soul. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had been totally isolated from God. All she wanted to do was leave, but fear ripped through her body, leaving her paralyzed.

Terrified child
The next bolt of lightning was so bright that Kit was sure it hit the truck. For a moment she lost focus, like someone had just taken her picture with an oversized flash from a camera in a pitch-black room. The truck rocked back and forth as thunder bellowed its way through the four corners of hell.

Scary ghost
When the roar of thunder subsided, Kit’s eyes focused once again beyond the windshield—but the woman was gone. Soft raindrops tapping on the window and the comforting purr of the engine were the only noises she could hear.
Johnny instinctively slammed the truck in reverse. As they made their way back down that long, dark, empty road from the place nobody should ever go, not one of them spoke a word. The absolute truth of the children’s cries on the wind and the woman, cold as the grave, standing in the road just past the sign were evidence enough for Kit that if there was a devil that could hold such a place on this Earth, then there must be a God to protect us from him.

 
What the four of them had seen and heard was never spoken of that night — or any other time since. But if you ever find yourself in need of evidence of what lies beyond, there is a small grass road out in the country that will take you under the old Live Oak trees to the end of the vision of God, and you will find what is truly unholy….

19 Responses to “Hell’s Half Acre”

  1. rcprice October 11, 2013 at 8:31 pm #

    Very good, Vashti. Nice build up. Personally, I wouldn’t even want to see it.

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega October 12, 2013 at 2:58 am #

      Thank you Robert! I’m with you on that one. I wouldn’t want to see it either. :O

      Like

  2. Ben Roach October 11, 2013 at 8:58 pm #

    Really great, vashti. You set the scene well, told it perfectly and if that wasn’t enough you gave us a soundtrack and some pics too. You are a great showman (or woman lol) as well as a great writer. Loved it! 😀

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega October 12, 2013 at 2:57 am #

      Ha,ha! I’m so happy you enjoyed it Ben. Isn’t that track creepy? Phew! Thank you so much! 😀

      Like

  3. kelly Bermudez October 12, 2013 at 3:04 am #

    You really have a gift for writing:)

    Like

  4. Rosey October 12, 2013 at 6:57 pm #

    I went to the Ohio Reformatory once (where Shawshank was filmed), before it was turned into a museum. My husband thought it would be cool to take a look, no idea why he thought that. My sister-in-law and I both felt such a strong bad presence that we left the building. I’ve never felt anything like it before or after, nor do I care to. I believe there are things we don’t understand. I would NOT want to go to that mill.

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega October 12, 2013 at 7:48 pm #

      Ooh Rosey! You’re a brave woman to have gone there in the first place. I’m sure horrible things must have gone on in that place. It’s no wonder you felt a strong bad presence there. I agree, there are things we don’t understand.

      Like

  5. Julia October 12, 2013 at 9:07 pm #

    thank you for visiting my blog! following you via Bloglovin & twitter!

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega October 19, 2013 at 8:18 pm #

      Hi Julia! I’m sorry for the delayed response. For some reason wordpress put you in my spam folder. It was my pleasure visiting your blog. Thank you so much for following me. 😀

      Like

  6. Yolanda Isabel Regueira Marin October 12, 2013 at 10:39 pm #

    Oooooh … spooky. Getting in the mood 🙂

    Like

  7. glenperk October 13, 2013 at 10:36 pm #

    Loved the gloomy scene. Poe set the scenes like that and it helped with the emotional impact. BTW, the real Hell’s Half Acre is in Wyoming. It was a hideout for bandits in the old west.

    Glen

    Like

    • Vashti Quiroz-Vega October 14, 2013 at 2:19 pm #

      Thank you Glen! Yes! When I was researching “Hell’s Half Acre” I came across pictures of the the real one in Wyoming. Made me think of you. The guy that told me this story said they nicknamed the are “Hell’s Half Acre” because of what happened there. Poe’s awesomely creepy! 😀

      Like

  8. J.S. Rogers October 14, 2013 at 3:57 pm #

    OK pretty creepy!

    Like

  9. JESS44903 October 15, 2013 at 7:45 pm #

    Haha…very creepy! 🙂

    Thanks again for joining the Link Up this week?

    Like

  10. Vashti Quiroz-Vega October 27, 2013 at 3:52 am #

    Hi Lorraine! I haven’t forgotten about it. Remember I asked you for a little time. I’m in the middle of something now, but I promise I won’t be too long.

    Like

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