Sloss

One

The darkness of the night sky surrounded me like a blanket.  On a cold night in October, my group of friends and I were setting up camp in my backyard. Jake pitched the tents, Jane brought the lanterns, and I attempted to light the fire. The others in attendance brought some food and drinks. After several attempts to set the logs ablaze, the wood finally caught fire and scattered embers throughout the air like fireflies. The orange and yellow pillars of heat illuminated the surrounding area in a bright, warm light.  As we huddled together to gain warmth, topics of every day life, the people we had crushes on, the teachers we liked (and the ones we hated), different classes, and the stupid chores our parents made us do floated throughout the crisp, thin air like the smoke from the flames. After a few minutes of silence, Jake, the kid that pitched the tents, spoke up.

"Hey, do you guys want to tell ghost stories?"

"I'd love to!" Jane replied.

Jane was my girlfriend. We've been together since the second day of freshman year. Now, we're seniors. Since the first day I saw her, I had a feeling that she was the girl I was going to be with for the rest of my life. We've always been told that high school sweethearts never last. We intend to prove them wrong.

"Well, does anyone have any stories?" I asked. No one replied. After a couple more minutes of silence, I answered my own question. "Fine, I have one from when I was little that my dad used to tell me."

As everyone settled down, I began my story.

"The year, 1907. There was a man, a terrible man. A man who was responsible for the deaths of over 50 men. Some of these men, kids really, never even breached manhood. Kids our age. This man's name was James 'Slag' Wormwood. Some people believe this story to be fake, but it's all too real. This is the story of Sloss Furnace. Slag was the foreman of the graveyard shift. He hired young, disrespected workers to do the dirty work like shoveling coal, keeping the furnace fed, burying the bodies. During work, you had no food, no water, and no breaks. You were called in any time he needed you. If you didn't come, it didn't end well. There were no holidays on the graveyard shift. No days off. Temperatures in the furnace rooms reached well over 120°. For over twelve hours every day, you were put through a living hell."

I took a second to gather the expressions of my friends. Some looks of fear, others of disbelief.

"One day, Slag left his office to inspect some of his workers. The temperature in the furnace room on that day, 200°. Infuriated, Slag ran throughout each furnace room, trying to figure out who, or what, was making the furnaces so hot that day. Finally, he ran upon the last room. A man, body burned and melted, lie dead on the floor. Slag ran to turn off the furnace, but when he flipped the switch, the room erupted into a giant ball of flame. Not only did the blast rip the life from this evil man, it turned his body to ash, leaving no remains of the devil on earth. Some say that his soul still roams throughout the factory, taking any life that enters. Some even say that he has escaped his eternal hell on earth and now ventures throughout the city of Birmingham, feeding on fear and anger. He hasn't fed in a long time, but little did anyone know that his next victim was-"

I stopped just short of the ending to see everyone on the edge of their seats, so I let my final words hover in the cold air for a moment before finishing the tale.

"You!" I screamed, with the intent of scaring all of my friends.

"Jesus Christ, Alec!" Jake exclaimed. "You almost gave me a heart attack."

"Douche," Thomas said. "You know that story isn't true."

"Yes it is, Tom," I replied, "My Dad told me that story when I was a kid."

"Well, if it's true, then why don't we all go to the factory?" Thomas asked. "Tonight."

"Well, um."

"What's the matter Alec, you scared?"

"No way!" I looked at Jane, knowing that I couldn't back down in front of her. "How about we go right now?"

"Alec, I don't know-" Jane said, but was cut off by Jake.

"Hold up a second, what if that story is true? I'm too young to die," Jake added, jokingly.

"I don't care, I ain't scared," I said as I glanced back at Tom.

"Then let's go." Thomas replied.

After all the camping supplies were piled into the trunk, we were on our way. As the group climbed into Thomas' car, I began to regret the decision. I got in the passenger seat. Jake, Jane, and Stephanie all piled into the back. Thomas was the driver. I hooked up the GPS and set the route for Sloss Furnace. Thomas was grinning celebratorily in the front seat, thinking that he was right about the situation. The entire trip, I was thinking about how I had gotten myself into this mess. Considering that I was the only one who knew, and believed, what Slag was capable of. I was utterly consumed with terror. Yet, I knew I couldn't show fear, especially with Jane by my side.

"Do you think Slag is real?" Stephanie asked Jane.

"I don't know," Jane replied,"I'm just scared."

"Me too."