Chapter 493

The sun beat down on the parched earth of the South African veld. A lone figure, Thomas, started his hike.

He carried a backpack with minimal supplies. The trail was seldom used, a narrow path snaking its way through tall grass and rocky outcrops.

It was an ambitious solo hike but Thomas thought of it as meditation more than anything. He enjoyed the solitude, the way the world seemed to fade into the background as he walked.

His boots crunching on the dry soil. Hours moved forward, each step a reminder of his separation from civilization.

The vast openness did not deter Thomas. It, in fact, soothed him in a strange way.

He stopped to take a drink of water, checking the map to ascertain his place and his path. Everything seemed fine; his planned route was a clear shot.

He took one final gulp of water, closed the cap, tucked the bottle away, and looked ahead. He saw what appeared to be a clear path to the top of a small plateau.

The thought of seeing what was up there brought a slight grin to Thomas. With the bottle tucked away and the map rolled up he began to make his way up.

The map was stuffed into the side pocket of his bag. He began to make his way up to the plateau, but, before he could take another step, it happened.

One moment, Thomas was walking; the next, it was as though the earth opened up. He just was gone.

No struggle, no scream, just an empty path where a man once walked. The first few hours of his disappearance were unnoticed.

No one had anticipated him to check in with them or for him to appear at a given point. His hotel, growing concerned with his absence, reached out to authorities.

This prompted a search and rescue. The local police, unfamiliar with such activity at the location, assembled what resources they could.

They began combing the trails. The days passed, each sunrise brought renewed, though steadily decreasing hope.

Helicopters flew low over the area; volunteers marched in carefully planned lines across the rough land. Dogs, specially trained, sniffed through the brush.

All yielded nothing; no clothing, no gear, no trace of Thomas. It was as though he vanished completely from the planet.

They scoured every crevice and every hill in the region, they talked to everyone they could talk to. All was in vain, their work yielded nothing, absolutely nothing.

It was truly baffling. Search party efforts increased tenfold after the second week of nothing showing.

Local townspeople offered food and water to anyone searching, they were committed. The world seemingly forgot everything they had on their minds.

Everyone only worried about Thomas and his whereabouts, what happened? Did something evil happen to him?

Were there more unknown variables involved? Everyone was equally perplexed. Weeks continued to pass by; each morning the rescue teams made an active, determined search.

Yet, there was nothing but the wind. Not even the scent of a discarded water bottle.

It became like a macabre joke amongst those searching. Did he perhaps turn into some invisible being?

There were even some that suggested some spiritual activity at work, however, those thoughts were quickly dismissed by authorities in charge. With no substantial findings, each rescue team grew weary.

Morale dropped by tenfold, and yet the team did not stop, as their stubbornness gave a little bit of new fire within them. It simply didn't make any logical sense.

Even if some sort of predator got to Thomas, there still would be some sort of trace of his remains or blood or an empty bag. But no.

Nothing. There simply was no logic to be made from what happened, just this gaping void.

The weather in the area turned; rain beat down on the dry land, soaking it. It felt as if nature wept for Thomas.

Yet it yielded nothing in return but misery, muddy tracks and a lack of any findings whatsoever. Even the downpour itself did nothing.

Even with mud, no trail would indicate anything. They went everywhere, searched all through every nook and cranny but no.

Still no sign of Thomas. A month went by. The local town's initial hope began to fade into resignation.

This turned the overall somber and sad mood, much darker. Yet, search party after search party went at it every day.

Even volunteers continued, however, a fraction of the original size that went out the day of Thomas' disappearance. This did not change the sheer stubborn determination.

There was, however, still nothing. Then, two months turned into three.

The search scaled back considerably, as the last little of hope seemed to be snuffed out of existence. This was due to the reality that Thomas would probably be never be found.

This was true even after this incredible effort put forth by those who helped in this terrible period. The official line from authorities went from determined searches to active observation.

This was done only at the very few spots in the search zone that had some unique potential. Even at that point, their patrol never turned anything substantial.

The local newspaper called it, 'The Disappearing Man.' and there were numerous write ups over Thomas' disappearance. They seemed almost eerie when people realized that there was almost no detail.

There was no lead within the case to truly call an informative one. In all intents and purposes, it seemed that a man had vanished out of existence.

There were seemingly no leads of any kind whatsoever. But, the locals didn't forget; there was some weird energy there.

It almost felt that the very space, itself, where Thomas vanished from had its own secrets. Some claimed they could sense him in the land itself.

The way it seemingly swallowed him and digested him, it now felt 'off,' to put it lightly. Some would not venture within its radius even weeks after.

It was declared that the rescue attempts had concluded. It became like some forbidden and scary area of the zone.

This would instill discomfort at just the thought of entering that space where all of the strangeness occurred. Then came the anniversary of Thomas' disappearance.

An elderly woman from the town, a strange character to say the least, ventured to the exact spot of Thomas' last sighting. Her reasons, known only to her, made no sense.

Everyone was curious as she made the solo journey and they secretly tried to understand her logic. She seemed calm, strangely accepting, yet saddened all the same.

The people followed at a safe distance and waited anxiously as they could not just observe. They could also sense that something eerie and dark was about to come up.

They could almost see this darkness that she exuded just through her presence. The locals thought that she almost seemed to know everything there was about the place itself.

She knew its dark secret. Her gaze remained fixed as if her eye could discern a change in what is considered ordinary.

She had utmost seriousness as she went closer and closer. Then the old lady reached the spot, the same spot from where it is assumed Thomas vanished.

There was a quiet. The birds seemed silent; not a single creature was out.

It became strangely, still, to everyone who was watching from afar. She knelt to the ground, right where Thomas stood.

Then, with one very deliberate act, she placed her palm to the ground, then closed her eyes. What followed sent the observing locals in a terrifying fear.

For as she had placed her hand on the land, she began muttering things in an old, guttural dialect that they did not recognize. The sounds alone gave them chill.

They were raw, visceral and disturbing. But that was just the tip of the iceberg, it seemed as she kept uttering these things.

There was a dark, black tarry substance oozing out of the cracks and holes within the soil itself. It covered the woman's arm, all the while, the local folk simply looked.

They stood there, frozen. Then, the woman screamed.

She shrieked so hard; the locals heard a visceral howl that made their guts drop into the pit of their stomach. As they took a few steps closer; their breath escaped their lips.

They looked in sheer horror of what they had come to witness. The woman fell to the ground.

The black tar now enveloped most of her body. But it was her scream that sent shivers through every one who observed.

Her body then sunk in, slowly as the black matter absorbed her and took her. The dark abyss closed completely.

The ground seemed pristine again as if no horror took place. The observing locals could not utter anything for the next couple of days.

Then finally after composing themselves from shock, they shared their observations with authorities. They simply called it mass delusion from those that they trusted.

They were ridiculed and shut down on a formal record with no real action following up. Everything felt like a fabricated story with zero plausibility.

There was only one local that came to the area weeks later. After giving everything that he held most dear to his brother's family.

This person stood there for minutes and just shook his head. He closed his eyes as he knew the secrets and what dark places it had.

He said an almost inaudible thing and then just walked into the darkness himself. It seemed, that, sometimes; we are fated to be forgotten into places.

These are places that do not recognize humanity, and when it finally does get consumed; it all just becomes still and pristine once again. Everything can be forgotten.

It is just one of those strange cycles where something enters and gets taken. There was no way of ever making sense of it.

Thus everyone moves forward, only carrying that terrible thing that always will remain.