The Ghost Stalkers (Part two to"The Hermit's Ghostly Dilemma")
I stayed there that night, in Josh O’Hara’s hut, in the Minnesota wild (Hibbing), thinking perhaps I could come to some conclusion what took place, and I felt as the uncanny night went on, death stalked it, I mean the ghosts that he so readily feared stalked it, so, he had a good reason to fear, I was not believing in his story at first, I am no detective, nor need I be, but they were out there, in the darkness breeding as I was breathing, and pacing within his timber hut, such insights, come too late too often. And then I heard footsteps, especially with the light footsteps outside, my ears trained to hear such things from war, I could hear the grass being bent, as if trampled through, reminding me they were there, they the stalking ghosts, and maybe they were even dragging Josh’s residue spirit through it, for I heard his voice in agony, him being dead meant nothing at this moment to me, I was shivering in the over heated hut, my veins like ice, step by step, I heard the stalkers laughing, like spies, trapping a mouse, that is how I felt, I being the mouse, they heard my breathing it seemed, I walked to the right side of the hut, the footsteps outside the hut walked around the hut to my side, a vicious network of intrigue for them, for me a desperate, and dangerous game I wanted to get out of. Why they simply did not come into the hut, was beyond me, perhaps they were forbidden to desecrate, or violated with their malicious hearts, the place of the dead, code perhaps among them, because they didn’t want their death beds dishonored, like to like I always say.
The burring logs in the house the dead feet, I simply wanted it all to end this terror that came loose on this cabin, getting on out of it, out of this night, this never to be forgotten night, it all was trying on my system, it was as if my immune system could no longer hold itself in place, it was cascading from the inside out, my mind blank, then I passed out.
(Twenty-years later) Suddenly at 2:00 AM, it happened again, like it happens every night, has happened every night, since that long night in the cabin in the woods in Hibbing Minnesota, at different times of course, since I spent that evening in Josh O’Hara’s hut, those voices in the woods came back to me, come back to me, out like wild boors through my head, it was an eerie gripping horror again, I cannot tell you the full story of this supernatural happening, no more than what you already know, fantastic as it is, but I lost my hearing that night, I think the ghosts, slowly, very slowly during that evening murdered something inside of me. It is as I said, 2:00 AM, and I hear those eerie gripping voices, and that was twenty-years ago, I was in O’Hara’s hut, but I must stop writing down these notes, I’m tired, I need to sleep—; it’s 3:00 AM now… yes, it starts all over again!...
Part one of the two part story (The Hermit) was written 4-18-2007; part two, was written (The Ghost Stalkers) on August 8, 2008.
I stayed there that night, in Josh O’Hara’s hut, in the Minnesota wild (Hibbing), thinking perhaps I could come to some conclusion what took place, and I felt as the uncanny night went on, death stalked it, I mean the ghosts that he so readily feared stalked it, so, he had a good reason to fear, I was not believing in his story at first, I am no detective, nor need I be, but they were out there, in the darkness breeding as I was breathing, and pacing within his timber hut, such insights, come too late too often. And then I heard footsteps, especially with the light footsteps outside, my ears trained to hear such things from war, I could hear the grass being bent, as if trampled through, reminding me they were there, they the stalking ghosts, and maybe they were even dragging Josh’s residue spirit through it, for I heard his voice in agony, him being dead meant nothing at this moment to me, I was shivering in the over heated hut, my veins like ice, step by step, I heard the stalkers laughing, like spies, trapping a mouse, that is how I felt, I being the mouse, they heard my breathing it seemed, I walked to the right side of the hut, the footsteps outside the hut walked around the hut to my side, a vicious network of intrigue for them, for me a desperate, and dangerous game I wanted to get out of. Why they simply did not come into the hut, was beyond me, perhaps they were forbidden to desecrate, or violated with their malicious hearts, the place of the dead, code perhaps among them, because they didn’t want their death beds dishonored, like to like I always say.
The burring logs in the house the dead feet, I simply wanted it all to end this terror that came loose on this cabin, getting on out of it, out of this night, this never to be forgotten night, it all was trying on my system, it was as if my immune system could no longer hold itself in place, it was cascading from the inside out, my mind blank, then I passed out.
(Twenty-years later) Suddenly at 2:00 AM, it happened again, like it happens every night, has happened every night, since that long night in the cabin in the woods in Hibbing Minnesota, at different times of course, since I spent that evening in Josh O’Hara’s hut, those voices in the woods came back to me, come back to me, out like wild boors through my head, it was an eerie gripping horror again, I cannot tell you the full story of this supernatural happening, no more than what you already know, fantastic as it is, but I lost my hearing that night, I think the ghosts, slowly, very slowly during that evening murdered something inside of me. It is as I said, 2:00 AM, and I hear those eerie gripping voices, and that was twenty-years ago, I was in O’Hara’s hut, but I must stop writing down these notes, I’m tired, I need to sleep—; it’s 3:00 AM now… yes, it starts all over again!...
Part one of the two part story (The Hermit) was written 4-18-2007; part two, was written (The Ghost Stalkers) on August 8, 2008.
Labels: Dr. Dennis L. Siluk, Poeta Laureado
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 1:52 PM
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