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Rate This Contest Entry: Contest: June 30th, 2005 Author: Pamela Dutka Waynesville is a small historical town in southeast Georgia. Home of the Confederate Soldier and where the smell of jasmines fills the air and honeysuckles grow wild. The sounds of children's laughter are often the melody that is heard. Most people would assume that a place like this could only exist in storybooks, but what they don't know is that small towns have secrets, and secrets keep well in small towns. Some secrets shouldn't be told, but this one tore out town apart, of course some just say it didn't happen at all. One thing is certain blindness makes us vurnerable. I guess I should start from the beginning.It was about five years ago when a local man was found dead out by the railroad tracks. His body was mangled like maybe some wild dogs had attacked him, but the the look of horror was frozen on his face. Most still thought it was an accident, because things such as murders just don't happen here. The place was always know to be evil; only everyone truly thought the stories to be local legends. When the town's historian went missing is when the town folk started talking. As a group of volunteers gathered, they begin the search that would forever change their lives. He was last seen at the old railroad track also know known to the locals here as Bladen. In the early 1800's its known to have been a railroad town, and mysteriouly the local town people were all killed. They were found several weeks later when the train had stopped in to drop off supplies. It is belived that it was never discovered what actually happened to the people. One thing is for certain, is that graveyards tell no lies, and in that old graveyard lies over a hundred bodies. On each and every headstone reads the date of death 1836. The volunteersare put into groups to cover more ground at once walking in single line formation all starting in different area only to end up at he smae place the graveyard. Amoung the first group of volunteers was Richard Shakleford, the Pastor of The People's Babtist Church. Zachry Deen, the town Mayor, and Eddie Middleton, the Fire Chief. As they sweep across the area finding nothing, the sun begins to set. Richard, Zachry and Eddie find themselves located in the old town of Bladen. The ruins of the old buildings are still standing, thinking that Mr. Mitchell the town historian, must have visted this area to gather more information and take some photograhs. They begin to search the area, finding the well that was centrally located for the town's people. Engraved on it's side was, The Devil's Well. "Now that's a name to make you want to get a drink of water isn't it?" Zachry remarked in a chuckling tone. Just as the men begin to walk way to search around the ruins, a peculiar smell of burnt flesh engulf the men. Turning to look as if looking for someone, "Can you smell that?" Eddie asked, unsure of where the odor was coming from. "Yea, I do," Richard replied, looking around. When he catches a glimpse of what looked like steam rising from the well. He points over and asks, "What is that?" in a tone of uncertainty. Zachry and Eddie turn to look when a figure was rising from the well. "May God have mercy on our souls," Zachry replied with fear in his voice. The figure seemed to be floating towards them, as he became closer, the men were Froze and unable to move. He spoke his words, harsh and bone chilling. "I am he. he who Knows all. He who ends all." He floated around the men in a distance, his eyes fiery red. The horns that emerged form atop his round head were those that looked as if they were from some sort of mid-evil story. A Black cloak was draped around his body. The men were able to feel the heat from his breath, and the smell resembled a rotting animal lying in the hot summer sun. "Who are you?" Richard asked, unsure if what he was talking to wasn't just a figment of the imagination. "You know who I am. YOur God teaches you against evil, only everyone has evil in his or her souls. I am with you everyday, you know who I am." "No, I don't." Richard replied, with a sickening feeling deep inside. "Oh...but you do. I know you Mr. Preacher Man; I know your every thought, your actions and your words that you speak. For I am the Dark Angel. You have come to my world and you will not leave." Richard begin prayer, "As I walk through the shadow of death I will fear no evil..." " I spit on your call to your God, he cannot save you." Eddie begins to scream in agonizing pain, his flesh was disintegrating from his body as he loses consciousness. Lying on the ground, the sudden movement of maggots, flies and ants swarm his lifeless body eating away as if it were their last meal. With a chuckle the Dark Angel spoke, " He lived by fire and he died by fire" A slew of diamond back rattlesnakes slither in around Zachry, and begin striking him repeatedly. In horror, he falls to the ground trying to fight the snakes only causing the venom to move more quickly through his veins, his begin to twitch uncontrooably. The sounds of gurgling emerged from his throat, as he struggled to take his last breath. Once again the Dark Angel spoke, " I am he. He who knows all. He who ends all." "What do you want?" Richard asks, desperately. "Follow me. Do you want to live? That is a question only you can answer. Did your God save these men? You did call for him, where is he? Only I have the power to save you." He spoke. "I will, I will... Please just let me live." Hanging his down in shame, knowing the words he spoke will never be able to be taken back. He had begged for his mortal life, but now has lost his eternal life for damnation. The Bladen graveyard sets nestled inside some wild myrtles shrubs and wisteria vines. Three new graves were added to the graveyard, Mr. Mitchell, Eddie Middleton and Zachry Deen. All three graves read the same on each, date of death 2000. Our little town is a historical town with a lott of history. We know what lives amoung us, and yet we continue to live everyday. Pastor Richard closed the church down, not long after the search for Mr. Mitchell and some teenagers set fire to it. The only thing left is part of the cross that held the sign that read People's Babtist Church. Which is our daily reminder, of how much our life here on earth really means to us, and how we all fear death. Sometimes...legends can be true. 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