Randy Lamb took a drag of his Carlton, leaned back against the sofa and exhaled, examining the meager progress of the construction job at hand. He had 1,600 square feet of tongue and groove pine boards, stained and ready to nail up to the ceiling of his 30 X 40 great room. To this end, he had summoned two friends, Barney Peterson, his boyhood friend from Barrington, Rhode Island, and Donnie DiPietro, a neighbor, to help. They had come to his mountaintop cabin in Red Feather Lakes, Colorado, eager to help him.
As he finished his smoke, he considered the fact that a good portion of the first day had been spent on prep work – moving furniture, measuring, cutting and re-cutting boards before finally getting around to the arduous task of nailing the boards to the bare rafters above their heads. And now as Donnie lay asleep in the loft bedroom, and Barney lay snoring like a contented polar bear on the inflatable mattress nearby, Randy told himself that tomorrow they would kick ass and finish at least half of the ceiling. As he turned out the light and headed to his own bed, the thought never entered his mind that by this time tomorrow, one of them would be dead and the remaining two would be fighting for their lives.
They awoke the next morning, or rather; Barney woke them, at 9:45.
“Randy, Hey Randy!” Barney called to his sleeping work boss. “Man, you better get up here. There’s something weird going on outside.”
“Wait…Whattya mean?” Randy said groggily, “Something strange? Strange like what?”
“It’s real dark out there.” Barney answered, concern evident in his voice.
“It’s just some thunderstorms that rolled in over night.” Randy rationalized. “It can make it pretty dark outside, almost like night sometimes.”
“No, you don’t understand.” Barney said. “It’s not just dark, It’s nighttime! It’s so dark out there, I can’t even see your truck.”
This got Randy’s full attention and he was fully awake an on his feet in an instant. The new Chevy Silverado was his pride and Joy. He had put that pup to good use in the two years since he had been building and working on the house. It had earned it’s keep and then some. Nobody was gonna touch that truck and live to tell about it.
“What? My truck’s gone?” Randy said incredulously, as he bounded toward the door. “That can’t be. No one does stuff like that out here.” He yanked open the front door and stood there dumfounded. Barn was right. It was dark out there but it was not like night. It seemed to be some all-encompassing black. It was as if he was staring into the blackness of space, without the stars. He couldn’t see anything beyond the porch railing.
“What the…?” Donnie DiPietro’s voice came from behind them. There was a resounding thud as the piece of board he threw in the direction of Randy’s truck, bounced off the hood of the seemingly invisible truck.
“WHAT THE FUCK!” Randy yelled.
“The truck’s still there.” Donnie said matter-of-factly. It’s just so damn dark we can’t see where it is.”
“You hit my truck,” Randy said, plainly pissed. But he was right. Not more than 2 feet in front of them and to either side, was sheer and utter darkness. Randy went inside and grabbed a flashlight, and when he shone it into the darkness, they saw that the bright beam only went about 2 to 3 feet and stopped. It was almost as if the darkness had absorbed the light. He walked to the porch railing and shone it towards the truck. His truck was parked no more than five feet away and even that close, his light revealed nothing more than inky blackness. He bent down and picked up some wood scraps and tossed them out in the yard in various directions. Barn and Donnie followed suit, wanting to assure themselves that there was still a yard out there. What was even stranger was that they soon discovered that there were some areas that almost seemed to absorb sound, as they could near nothing when they threw things. It was as if there was some sort of black hole out there that prevented any sound from reaching their ears.
But the area was anything but devoid of sound as they soon noticed. They heard a terrible howling, extremely close by, that they recognized at once as the tortured cries of a cougar. Randy had never seen one up here but he knew they lived up in these parts somewhere, far away from people. They could tell that there were actually 2 of them and they were involved in a fierce fight, either with each other or with something unknown in the dark.
“Come on guys. We better get inside.” Randy said. “They sound pretty damn close. The last thing we want to mess with is a mountain lion. Never mind 2 of them.” As they turned toward the door, there was a tortured scream as one of the big cats was mortally injured. Things happened fast after that. Donnie had just gotten to the door when they saw a tan blur flying through the air. There was a horrific crash, as one of the mountain lions leaped through one of the front windows, and landed on the dinner table in a scattering of broken glass. It turned quickly and faced them, growling a low growl. It struck them all that he was growling out of pure terror, not aggression. They stopped dead in their tracks and were further amazed to see two coyotes push by them and run directly under the dinner table. And like terrified lemmings, the three 50 year old men scurried inside and slammed the door shut.
They were greeted with the sound of the two coyotes growling at the cougar that growled even louder. They were feeling each other out, trying to guess the other’s intentions. In Randy’s bedroom, his two dogs, 2 young Shiba Anu named Cash and Luna, were barking up a storm. Cash had a score to settle with any coyote he saw. Just a little over a year ago, Randy and Cash had been walking and Cash had been set upon by 3 coyotes. One got him on the ground and went at his stomach. One went at his throat and one was starting on his neck before Randy came up and chased them away with rocks. Cash was very eager to get after them and scratched furiously at the bedroom door.
Randy did what any good master would do. He scurried to the bedroom and released his pets from their confines. Two blurry shapes, one a creamy white, the other a mix of black and brown, shot passed him and confronted the wildlife inexplicably in their home. The two dogs worked in tandem, growling like two ferocious demon dogs, snapping at the three wild animals, corralling them into a corner. They didn’t let up until the cougar lay down with his head on the floor and the coyotes lay on their backs with their stomachs exposed in submission. Randy called to them and his two dogs came at once. When he was halfway there, Cash suddenly turned, and strutted back to the bigger, more dominant of the coyotes, who now lay whimpering at his feet. Cash lifted his leg and peed all over its head. He showed him who was boss and went obediently back to Randy who gave them both a piece of beef jerky.
“Dude, we need your guns” Donnie broke the silence.
“Uh, Yeah.” Randy said. “Yeah that would be good. That is DEFINITELY a good idea!”
“Awright, where are they?” Donnie demanded.
“Uh, they’re safe and secure in my gun rack.” Randy told him. And when he noticed Donnie and Barn scanning the room for the rack, added, “Out in my GOD DAMN TRUCK!”
“I ain’t goin’ out there.” Barn said dully. “No fuckin’ way.”
“OK, Listen,” Donnie announced. “I’ll go out and get ‘em, as long as you guys stand by the door and let me in when I come back. And DON’T shut the fuckin’ thing! Stand there and wait for me”
“Yeah OK Cool.” Randy said. Maybe we’ll sing a little song while you’re out there. Something to cheer you up. This is the end – Beautiful friend,” He began the old Doors classic.
“Why don’t YOU go get the guns an’ I’ll sing YOU a little freakin’ lullaby.” Donnie demanded, not amused by Randy’s nervous attempt at a joke. And then he was gone, darting out to the truck he knew was there but could not see, before he lost his nerve. Moments later Barn and Randy heard the door to the truck open and shut as he climbed in to retrieve the rifles. Randy had told him there were two deer rifles, a 30.06 and a 303 in the window rack behind the seat, and a 9mm Glock in the glove compartment. He hoped Donnie remembered to get that one, so at least they would all have guns. He had not even finished that thought when the truck’s horn began to blare loudly. At first this was just random honks, but then it became just one long honk, as Donnie apparently tried to scare something away. This was followed by 3 gunshots. The two friends noticed something odd then. For the briefest of moments, it was if something had covered the horn or actually absorbed its sound. They barely had time to consider this when they heard the driver’s side door open, and Donnie’s footsteps rapidly approaching.
Then a horrific, bone-chilling scream rent the night, followed instantly by several more gunshots. The two friends ducked down as a stray bullet slammed into the side of the house right next to them. They could see some of the muzzle flashes but they noticed others seemed to just disappear, as if the blackness or whatever seemed to be hidden in it actually ate the light. They heard Donnie’s footsteps falter, then stop before one more gunshot. They heard him scream again, from right in front of them, at the foot of the porch stairs. Nothing could have prepared them for the site that met their eyes when he emerged at last from the darkness.
Donnie lunged up the stairs clutching the two rifles to his chest with his right arm. His left arm and most of his shoulder was exposed skeletal system, with bits of tendon here and there, but otherwise devoid of flesh. In his bony hand, he still clutched the Glock, and they noticed in horror that it appeared to be melted. He made no sound as he stumbled on the stairs, thrusting the rifles out to his two friends as he fell. With horror, they saw that the entire left side of his face was gone. They could see the bare, bloody bone of his face and the completely exposed orb of his left eye. Where he still had flesh, it appeared to have been cauterized, for there was no blood flowing. He was trying to tell them something and they could hear his jawbone clacking as he moved his mouth. Barn handed his rifle off to randy and bent down next to his mouth. He only made out the words “Shoot me” before Donnie’s body was yanked violently away. This time there were no screams, only a wet sucking sound as he attempted to scream while his mouth and tongue were being devoured.
Without speaking a word to each other, Randy and Barn began firing their rifles in the direction that sound had come from, doubting they could kill what was out there, hoping only that they would hit their friend and end his agony. As they did this, they noticed that the sound of the gunshots seemed to be getting more and more muffled. When at last they stopped hearing any reports at all, they suddenly realized that whatever it was, was upon them. They backed quickly in through the front door of the cabin and slammed the door shut, just as something slammed hard against it. Then they heard a fearful sound – the squeaking of claws scratching down the outside of the door.
There was a loud explosion and Barn turned to see that Randy had dispatched the cougar with one shot to the head. As he went to pick it up by its feet, the two coyotes backed away from him, lest he set his sights on them.
“Awright Barn,” He told him, “when I say GO, you open the front door.” And with that, he picked up the dead mountain lion by his feet and began swinging it back and forth, getting momentum.
“NOW!” he yelled and Barney stood there.
“NOW GOD DAMNIT, NOW!” and still Barn stood there.
“You said open the door when you said GO, not NOW” Barn said.
“AWRIGHT GO! NOW! Randy screamed.
Barn yanked the door open and Randy flung the dead cougar out the door into the blackness. They couldn’t help but notice it disappeared not two feet from the front door. Whatever it was, was still lurking close by. As if to confirm this, mere seconds after they closed it, there was a powerful impact on the door. The two friends backed away, noticing that this had left a large bulge on the inside of the metal door. Without a word between them, the two of them grabbed power tools and nail guns, and began cutting half-inch plywood pieces and nailing them over the door and windows. Once the front was done they each took a side of the house and barricaded the windows, steadily working their way toward the back door.
Barn had just finished the left-hand side of the room and was heading toward the back bedroom when he stopped.
“Oh Damn. Dude, look” He said flatly.
Randy drove one last nail in the kitchen window and turned to follow Barn’s gaze. And there by the back door he saw a sight that chilled his nuts. Something was taking place by the door. It almost looked as if some flood of inky black crude oil was seeping profusely under the door. Almost, but not quite, for as far as he remembered, crude was not known to lift itself off the ground and form into shapes as this now did. The two of them watched transfixed, as the inky blackness formed into a vaguely humanoid shape and kept growing as more flowed under the door. Though ill defined, they could definitely make out the shape of a torso and blurry appendages. And then they watched in horror as a grotesque misshapen maw opened up where its face would have been. Whereas the creature or whatever it was had a dark black color to it, the mouth was pure unadulterated black. It was so black it hurt to look straight at it. They both felt that this gaping orifice sought to suck the very light from their eyes.
As if to confirm this, they now noticed the lights in the house dimming as the very photons, which normally emanated from the lamps into diffuse globes of brightness, were diverted and began streaming towards the gaping hole in the black being’s head. Then, with a crash, the glass door to the wood stove smashed as the flames inside sought their new master.
Seconds later, Randy was at the front door, hammer in hand as he furiously began ripping the plywood barricade from the door.
“What the HELL man?” Barn screamed.
“GASOLINE!” was all Randy had to say, and the two of them now worked in tandem.
Once the door was uncovered, randy practically flew out onto the farmers’ porch and retrieved a 5 gallon container of gas. By the time he got back inside, Barn had already begun dumping the trash out, looking for empty beer bottles. Randy took note of this and pulled his T-shirt off and began going at it with his knife, tearing it into strips while Barn began pouring gasoline into the bottles.
“C’mon! C’mon. GIMME!” he shouted out.
Barn handed him a couple of partially filled bottles and went back to filling more as randy stuffed some of his torn shirt into each one. Once Randy had 3 of them done he lit 1 and threw it toward the thing. It had no sooner smashed on the floor when an immense sheet of fire erupted and flowed straight up to the horrific fire-eating face. The flames were instantly snuffed as the hellish creature devoured them. Randy quickly lit 2 more and rapidly fired them off toward the beast. He turned to Barn for more and found him on the floor with a razor knife, cutting the top off the plastic gasoline container. Barn finished cutting and threw the top aside. Randy’s curious look prompted him to say, “Kent Street Cocktail! Get all the lighters and spray cans you can find!”
Randy knew just what he meant and did just as he was told. When they were young, semi-degenerate kids, they used to delight in getting a can of partially dried out oil paint or sometimes roofing patch, and starting the can on fire on the side of the road. Kent Street was a great location for this as there were only 3 houses and the rest of the road was wooded. The paint would burn slowly and consistently. Once the fire was going they would add the second ingredient, a can of hair spray or better yet, a can of butane cigarette lighter fuel. This done they would run for the woods and hide. Minutes later there would be a pretty good explosion as the spray can and its flammable contents went off, often as a car was passing by. No one got hurt, the cops and fire department came and more importantly, no one got caught.
As Randy went gathering household explosives, Barn ran out to the front porch. He rummaged around under the radial arm saw a bit until he found what he was looking for – a dolly with 4 wheels. He ran back inside and put it on the floor. Randy was holding armfuls of lighters and spray cans. He put these in the gasoline and then the two of them carefully lifted the gas container up onto the dolly. Randy grabbed an unused Molotov, and yanked the cloth wick from it. He knelt down and placed the bottle on its side, before giving it a shove. This had the desired effect and the bottle rolled in a straight line toward the monster, all the while sloshing gasoline on the floor as it went.
“SWEEEET” Barn said under his breath and then, “Good deal. C’mon help me with this fucker.” As he bent down to maneuver the gas can and dolly. He and Randy then rolled it back toward the front door, before stopping. They then began pushing it slowly toward the thing that sought to eat them. As the went, they built up momentum so that when they finally let go, the container easily sailed across the floor before coming to a stop on the shattered remains of one of the initial gasoline bombs. This had the desired effect of causing the slightest bit of gasoline to splash on the floor and on the midnight beast.
It looked in their direction and once again they could feel pressure on their eyes as it sought to suck the life from them. It seemed to both of them that it was daring them, taunting them to “Bring it on” so they did just that. The two of them got on the floor and, on the count of three, they both sparked disposable lighters near the small trail of gasoline they had made on the floor. There was a “WHOOSH” as the gas ignited and flames rushed toward the beast. Randy prepared himself, as well as possible under the circumstances, to see his house, his hard work, go up in flames. And then a most amazing thing happened.
The trail of burning gasoline made it to the gas can and ignited in a huge flash of light. No sooner had this taken place when the flames were sucked up in a steady stream into the shadow being’s horrific maw, leaving no trace behind. This happened just as they had hoped, with lighters, spray cans and other items sucked up along with the gasoline. Then there was a series of muffled reports as the flammable items exploded inside the beast. It looked up towards the ceiling as explosions now racked its form. With childish glee, Randy and Barn noticed that they could now see bits of light escaping here and there from the creature’s dark form. Soon a pattern emerged like that of a hundred lightning bolts, jagged sutures of light, which expanded as they watched. Then with a totally silent flash of brightness, the creature exploded, freeing the light it had devoured from the mountaintop. As quickly as it had exploded, the dark sectors of this enormous light-burst began condensing back down toward the floor. At the same time the two exhausted men noticed bright shafts of sunlight peeking through the edges of the boarded over windows. Barn went over to the windows in the dining area and began tearing the boards down, letting in the brightness once again, and Randy hesitantly made his way over to that spot where the creature had stood minutes before. Barn turned from the window to see him stooped over, examining some small dark object on the floor. He joined his friend and saw that he was eyeing a 1-inch cube of some dark material, darker than any rock or crystal he had ever seen. Apparently, this was all that was left of the dark warrior. They stood there staring at it, seemingly unable to look away. It was so black it almost hurt to look at it. Randy suspected this was because on some molecular level, it still sought out light. He wondered if it was trying to suck the very light out of their eyeballs. Then, to their horror, they watched as a ray of sunlight crossed the black cube, causing it to being to hum and vibrate.
“Oh no you don’t you little A-hole,” Randy said as he first threw a wash cloth over it and then ran over to his wood stove and grabbed his ash scoop. He returned and it took the two of them to lift this small but incredibly dense black cube off the floor. They made their way slowly over to the wood stove and tossed it into the fire. It flared up immediately and began to bun with an intensity rivaling coal. That was 5 years ago and it still burns to this day.
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