Chapter 14: The Boogeyman

The Spirit Creek Massacre.

An infamous event that would later be passed down through generations.

An attack that was led by a young man carrying a simple knife and some torches along with a group of slaves, all seeking vengeance, or so the stories say.

But before the horrible events occurred, it had all been planned beforehand.

All of it was planned by someone once known as The Gentle Shadow, a revered mercenary in Iowa.

The plan was simple but would take days to execute. It followed a simple structure, one where with each and every day that passed, the young man would continue to add to his list of actions.

He knew how capable he had once been and what he had done before leading up to his plan, so to him, this wasn't something impossible.

After all, he needed to get his family out of their predicament and find a way to make the town regret ever messing with them.

He would plan not to tell any of his family members about his upcoming actions in an effort to protect them for the first few days. He couldn't get them involved just yet, so for the first day, he went and did what he sought to do alone.

The first step was simple. He needed to grab some things, a bunch of things, from a building in the nearby town that was being laxly guarded.

He was to stock up on as many torches as he could gather and neatly store them inside a hidden wooden cabinet the shape and size of a coffin that no one else could find.

He needed to be sneaky about this, but that wasn't an issue, as his past experiences working as a mercenary proved to be instrumental.

No one saw him, no one heard him, and he alerted no one in particular, not even his family.

The second part of the plan would have his family work and harvest the many crops, as well as plant new ones for the entire day. That was arguably the most simple part of the process, as the only thing he needed to do would be to watch how the guards worked, as well as where every individual was going and what they were doing.

He had plenty of time to do this, as his family was usually forced to harvest the crops ever since their enslavement, and they had been in the town for over a year, so he was already familiar with the layout of the place, but it was never a bad idea to remember exactly what the people were doing and what they were going to do for the day.

It was a potentially necessary procedure to ensure that his plan would work without many difficulties.

But he had snooped around a little too far, and was whipped when he returned to the fields.

His so-called master was too preoccupied to realize what he had done, but this did not stop him from punishing him even more harshly than before.

He had worried his family over an unfortunate mistake, but he nevertheless reassured them and quickly began contemplating over his next actions.

Finally, a couple days passed and he would tell his family after meeting each other in the slave house, the house they had once occupied.

His family had made up a group of six individuals, and amongst them were eight other slaves.

A total of fourteen slaves including his family as well as himself were to follow his next set of actions.

One of those slaves would come to later revise his plan.

And so for the next week, they spent most of their efforts working on the scheme.

***

"Pretty boring to be honest," I said to the old man.

I was very interested in his storytelling, up until now. It almost seemed as though the old man lost most of his energy from earlier.

It made sense though. Telling a backstory inside of another backstory must've taken its toll. He even said it was a bad decision in hindsight.

'Maybe he's finally becoming senile or something?'

I then checked the time on my phone, and it was from there did the young boy to my right finally woke up from his slumber from earlier.

[7:02 P.M.]

He didn't say a word though and even in spite of waking up, he kept his head down on the wooden table, blankly staring at what I assumed was the counter.

As I moved my head to stare at his eyes, the old man suddenly responded.

"Well, you wanted everything, I'll tell ya everything. We're getting closer to the ending so keep paying attention."

"Okay, sure. All stories need to be told with some sort of closure, anyways. Imagine telling a story without an ending. You know how weird that would be?"

"Hehehehe. I can tell where yer coming from, young man."

As I looked at the store around me, I noticed that it was still filled with a good number of people. Some were now somehow sitting next to where we were sitting, in fact.

'Is it just me or were they always there the whole time?'

I was momentarily confused, as I only just realized their presence but I nevertheless continued to stare at the old man before me.

"You seem confused, hehe. Don't worry. You were just very interested in my story."

"And as for you young man," he turned his head to look at the boy to my right.

"It seems like you've just woken up after a while. Remember what I told ya about the Silent Train?"

"Yeah. I don't like it," the boy responded lazily, not even turning to look away.

"Hahahaha. Ya might just be the first."

"Can you uhh... get on with the story now? I really, really wanna know how this ends."

"Fine, boy. But... don't you want some water?" The old man asked me.

"Come to think of it, I am pretty thirsty. Thanks for reminding me."

"Only after I finish my story," the old man said with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Ugh. Fine."

"Then ya better listen and not interrupt again, okay?"

"Sure."

***

A man with a sizable build was busy tending to his boys. It was almost nighttime, and they were just about to go to bed.

When suddenly, one of his boys mouthed.

"Pa, when are the slaves gonna finish their jobs? I really want some corn again!"

"Me too, papa. It's been too long."

Their father, who towered over his boys like a giant suddenly spoke in a hushed tone.

"I'll just whip them even harder to make sure they get the job done faster. But for now, I want ya kids to go to sleep."

"Pa, I don't think it works like that," one of his boys said. It was the eldest boy.

He was smart for his age. Maybe a little too sharp for his own father, who seemed to share none of his son's intelligence. Nonetheless, he loved him with all his being, treating him as if he were extremely precious to him alongside his other son, who was rather normal in comparison to his eldest.

"Don't ask me too much questions. Just go to sleep now, will ya? Mama's gon' get mad if ya don't sleep," their father murmured.

"Mama? But what about the boogeyman?" The younger boy said, slightly shaking.

"The boogeyman or mama. Which do you think is scarier, boy?" Their father asked him.

"Y-you, papa?"

"Hahahaha. Then maybe I should--"

Bang!

A loud banging sound resounded in the room. It was the sound of a door hitting a wall. It'd been open abruptly.

"Richard! Richard!"

A voice belonging to that of a female adult could be heard in the short distance.

"Mama?" The boys said in unison.

"Marissa? What's wrong? Why are you panicking?" The father said with worry filling his voice. He could tell that something bad was happening or was about to happen.

"A fire's about to break out! You gotta come with me outside and take the boys with us. I think we're all in danger!" She yelled.

"Now why in the hell would a fire be enough to--"

"Ya don't understand. They said they did it! They said they was gon' spread throughout the whole town and burn all our houses!"

"Burn our houses? Who in the world?"

"There's no time. We gotta go."

Richard stared at his wife for a split second before she shouted once again.

"NOW!"

"Fine. Come with me, boys" Richard said after his wife ran downstairs. He then stared at his children and noticed how tense they were over the matter.

They were now afraid. Very afraid. They had lived most of their lives sheltered under a roof and believed that nothing would come to harm them, especially not when their father was there to protect them.

He was a big, strong man. Harsh but supportive. They both knew how reliable he was, so even if they were afraid that a fire was coming for them, they had reassurance in a tough man like their father.

"Listen here, the both of ya. Your mother wants us all to leave. Don't worry about nothing, ya hear? I'm here to protect you both."

They silently nodded their heads at their father.

He helped pick the boys off their beds, and they both followed him.

As they arrived downstairs, the man's wife, who was waiting for them, said something to her husband near the front of the door.

"We have to go to where the barn is, where all the horses are stashed. We'll bring in as many as we can. There's something we need to do when we get there, and I want you all to prepare," she said seriously. She wasn't playing around in the slightest.

"But why not try to bring out the fire first? Isn't there something we can do to stop it?" the man asked.

"I don't think this is something that can be stopped completely. They already said it was gon' spread everywhere, and no amount of water we have will stop it."

"That don't sound very good at all. Does everyone know about this already?" Marissa's husband asked again.

"Not everyone. Only a few others including myself. We were all there to see it. As far as I know, one of the slaves did it. That bastard was the one who threatened all of us!"

"What!? A FUCKIN' slave!? I knew it. I fuckin' knew it I should've whipped them hard enough to have killed them! Those motherfuckers!" Richard said as he moved closer to his wife and away from his boys.

He didn't want to scare his own children, but he was simply too enraged to hold himself back.

"Who is it, Marissa? Tell me! Why is our whole town in danger cause of one person?"

"He was the one behind it all. It looked like he planned the whole thing out. But before we could capture him, he locked himself inside, and no one's seen him leave. I'm telling ya now, that man is dangerous. We'll have to band together and stop him before he can do anything serious!"

"Then what the hell are we waiting for? Take me to him!"

"I have to let everyone know."

"Hurry up and do it then! Come here, boys. And remember what I said about protecting the both of ya."

Before the man left, he grabbed a weapon he hadn't used in years inside of a closet that he hadn't. It was a spear that looked rather worned, as if had already been tested against many adversaries over time but was still nevertheless ready to be used. It stood only just a few inches taller the man himself.

The family quickly moved out of their house and ran towards where the barn was situated. As that was happening, no fire could yet be seen coming from the distance.

The burly man's wife had gone to warn every one of the townsfolk about a possible fire, as well as meeting up with a few of the other people who had all seen what she saw.

As more and more panicked townsfolk started gathering towards the front of the barn, it eventually became crowded with over dozens of men and women of all ages, most of whom were still in their pajamas while only a few were dressed somewhat appropriately by coincidence. No one was left out, and for that reason, it took Marissa close to an hour to evacuate every single one of them.

They were each in a state of confusion, and some of them were even denying what the worried 'witnesses' were saying.

After all, minutes already passed and the barn door could not be open. But rather than continuing to panic over a supposed fire, the crowd that had formed around the barn slowly started losing their patience when they saw nothing happening.

One of them decided to speak up. It was the voice of a middle aged man.

"A fire, they say? I don't see no fire around us. Is this a joke? If it is, then it ain't a very good one!"

One of the witnesses who had seen the slave spoke after him, attempting to dispel his claim.

"This isn't a joke. I saw it with my own eyes. The man inside that barn told us this whole town was gonna burn any minute now."

"That why the barn is locked, then? And it's all cause of a man? Don't tell me you actually believe in the words of one man? How cowardly have you all become!?"

A different voice answered in the middle aged man's stead. It was the voice of a similarly aged man.

"You don't understand. I've never seen a slave beat the guards like--"

"A slave!? Are you fuckin' kidding me?"

As soon as they heard his words, more and more people started protesting, unhappy with the fact that they were being lied to. They did not take lies about fires lightly, especially in the times of war, where people were far more on edge with anything that could happen.

Just when all the angry mutters reached its peak, a woman shouted over their voices, interrupting them and demanding their attention.

"Shut it, all of you! He's right. I've seen it too. There might not be a fire, but he's right about the slave. He's inside that barn, and he's the one who threatened us all. But that's why we have weapons, ready to strike him down!"

"H-how do you know he hasn't already left the barn?"

"I can attest to that," a man in his 30s spoke. It was one of the witnesses.

"We've had a few men watch the place with crossbows on both ends. They haven't seen anyone enter or leave the barn the whole time we've been here."

Several bags were suddenly placed into the ground by one of the witnesses who had decided to run to the weapon storage.

The opened bags revealed pitchforks and swords of medium and small sizes, all made with iron, as well as a few remaining crossbows. They'd been made in times of war, and because multitudes of crossbows were cripplingly expensive, they could own only a small number of them.

Almost all of the gathered people stared at the weapons before quietly forming to pick them up. There were more than enough weapons for the lot of them. The only one who hadn't picked anything was the man holding on to a spear, who towered over the other townsfolk.

The two boys were each given a weapon from their father. They were both gentle and non-confrontational and weren't excited about the idea of holding on to real weapons, to which they realized quickly how sharp and heavy they were from their usual toys, but their father didn't teach them to show weakness in front of anybody.

The lady from before spoke again, her voice remaining just as loud but clearer than before.

"Now that you have weapons, it's time we enter the barn from both the front and the back. Half of you will position yourselves from the other side, the back, and the other half will attempt to open it from here. As for the children, they are to be protected but armed. Just don't have them do anything that will put them at too much risk."

"Y-yes ma'am," said someone from the crowd.

Like a commander, her words enjoined the many townsfolk, who did as she said without any hesitation or complaints, almost like trained soldiers at war. However, this was mostly because the woman had more power and control than all of them combined. She was the wife of a famous war hero, after all.

With the people making preparations, she was now the one in charge, leading the ones from the back of the barn to see if anyone would leave through those doors, while the other half, the one her husband was in charge of, led the front.

However, before the townsfolk could get into position, a bright and glowing gas a similar color to the sun was promptly seen showering an imposing building in the distance.

It was the biggest building in town, and the town's most important one, for it was built by another famous war hero that constructed most of Spirit Creek and made it his temporary home.

But it was too late for them to do anything. They could only watch in vain as the flame engulfed the entire building, which consisted of timber, and just as the townsfolk were starting to panic once more, they quickly dropped what they were about to do, along with their weapons.

Many of them ran away from the barn. The ones who did could not stand to just watch as their condominium had been left to burn, and they hadn't stopped to even consider bringing their most prized valuables and artifacts with them.

Some did stay behind but only because they had nothing to lose and a duty to maintain. But things quickly changed as another fire broke out, in a different building made of timber as well.

A series of buildings burned along with it, all of them built with mostly the same materials and in danger of burning everything inside to rubbles. Minutes passed, and the townsfolk could see their own town burning before them. Not all the buildings were, but the damage had already been done.

The roaring and the crackling of the burning town drowned out the many terrified screams of the people who thought they had already lost everything. It was hard to focus when many of them were panicking.

And it didn't take long before the barn doors burst wide open and a dozen unnamed individuals, all hooded and masked, shot out with horses from both sides.

It was as the town had feared. The slave would do something he threatened to do.

They weren't just empty words.

They were a promise.

The boys from earlier saw the leader of the group of bad and terrible people escaping with the horses that were inside the barn. As the slaves exited, one of the witnesses exclaimed, "I think that was him! The one who threatened to burn the town! Someone go after him! He can't escape!"

This did not fall on deaf ears, as a horse disappeared into the distance within a moment's notice. The horse was rode by none other than the tall and burly man from earlier, who reacted almost immediately, managing to kill one of the slaves riding a horse after he lunged his spear at his chest. Before he left, he would say something to his children, who looked at him with fright and worry in their eyes.

"Stay here, boys. I'm gon' be going after the boogeyman. And don't you worry about me. I ain't losing to no goddamn slave."

He took off without giving them much of a chance. He already knew who had escaped from the front in spite of their idenity being hidden, and he also knew about the other people who escaped with the person leading them.

They were his family members, and he knew how much he loved them. He knew this all because he had been the one who tormented him and his family for every second of his time working as their master. Their distinctive smells were embedded deep into his memory, and he was already eager to take them out as soon as he noticed their presence.

He could not let any of them get away with such an act.

As the two young boys stared after their father with weapons drawn, one of them voiced out loud.

"Papa... He's... gonna be okay, right?" The younger brother asked.

"Yeah, he said so... He's... gonna be all right," the eldest brother said in response.

They had never wanted their father to win so badly.