Beemu's shorts

Sludge (Chapter 1)

(DISCLAIMER: the following story may have triggering and generally spooky subjects, if you aren't a fan of that kind of thing I advise you don't read this story)

I remember it perfectly. Smiths street, st. Leonard's church. The dusty gravel country road, with aromatic yellow dandelions springing at the side, separating the road from the endless seeming  field of pale green grass, with a small yet intricate church sitting in the middle. A tall beige building with faded stained glass windows. An old, slightly rusty silver metal cross at the top. It was the church my sweet old grandma had been going to for decades at this point. It was an old and dusty place, and the services went on for what seemed like forever. Though we always went with her, knowing that my grandma probably didn't have much time left. She didn't. Every Sunday my parents would drag me there with the rest of my family and sit me down on one of those old dusty spruce seats. The day it happened I remember leaving the church with my family, everyone loud and chattering. I remember exactly what my mother had dressed me in that day. A poofy yellow dress with purple dress shoes, and a matching purple bow in my hair. I looked like something the easter bunny had left. As we stepped out onto the cracked cement walkway back, the sun shining down on it. The blistering August heat became apparent as we went. As all this was occurring I happened to hear the rusty hinges on the church's heavy wooden door squeak, I felt myself jump then slowly turned around, All I could see at that point was a tall robed shadow as the door slammed shut. In my wisdom as an eight year old I assumed it was just a nun or something, and I chose not to speak to anyone about it. Looking back I badly wish I had said something. Anything. But I know I can't blame myself as much as I want to. I was eight years old and barely had common sense at that point. And as much as I wish there was there was absolutely nothing that could have prepared me for what happened there that night. Though I can barely remember what happened directly before the upcoming events, I can vaguely recount my normal nighttime routine. drinking a big glass of milk before bed, and my mom reading me a story, then kissing me on the forehead as she tucked me into bed. The thing I remember the most vividly was my mothers tired smile. She was a hardworking woman, yet she always took the time to make sure I  was content and on time when I went to bed for the night. 9 pm. 9 pm was my bedtime as a kid. I always wanted to stay up past then but my parents disapproved, they always said I could stay up as late as I wanted when I was a big girl. Honestly ironic considering the weeks following that night I would be awake for days at a time. I was snug in my bed, my mother had just put me to bed when suddenly, there was an almost ear deafening crashing noise. Followed by an almost, pained sounding howl. Not an animal howl. This howl sounded more human like, like a thousand damned souls were suddenly screeching. My ears started ringing painfully as I saw my mom rush back into my room and grab my hand. Quickly rushing me to my parents room where my siblings and father were already there. The ringing in my ears quieted down a bit as my fatherled us all quietly down to the basement. As we all tried our best to walk down the stairs as safely, and quickly as possible, loud, deafening, howls and shrieks. I remember getting down there and being hugged tightly by my mom. I heard my older siblings crying. That's when I knew it was bad. and I started to sob as well. We all sat down there for a few minutes, as the howling started to fade almost as quickly as it had come. Even after the howling had stopped, we were all still so terrified and in shock that we all just stood there for a few minutes, holding each other. After a long silence, that had only been interrupted by sobs and heavy breathing, my father finally went back up. My mom was so worried about him she practically begged him not to go, but my father was stubborn, and though he was terrified he was desperate to see what exactly was going on. My mother, after a few minutes of pleading and arguing with my father, finally let him go, realizing that there was no way she could stop him.