Seven years tales from.., p.2
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       Seven Years - Tales from the Backwoods, Story #1, p.2

           Backwoods
 
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Part Two

  The lightning crashed outside, flickering light against the walls of the cell, each time highlighting the outline of the figure that accompanied him in his cell. He was scared and alone, much as he had been each night since his arrival. He was paralyzed with fear, balled up on the corner of his bed as the ghost, or demon, or whatever it was, paced back and forth only feet away. He no longer screamed. His screams had done more harm than good anyhow. The guards simply ignored them and the other inmates joked and laughed out ridicules each day.

  The taunts from the inmates had bothered him. The day before at chow, he had considered lashing out after one in particular, when a large tattoo-covered inmate flung a spoonful of mashed potatoes in his face and asked if it would make him scream, mocking the sound with an ‘AHH!’ of his own. He no longer feared fighting, no longer feared the reprimands of the guards or a stint in a solitary confinement cell. The brutality of a dozen inmates, even death, would certainly be no worse than the torture he endured each night in his cell. He feared only this thing, this unexplained figure that paced back and forth, back and forth.

  He tried talking to it once, however that attempt quickly turned bad when it stopped, slowly turned, then quickly lunged toward him. It had stopped mere inches from his face and peered at him through its deep, dark, non-existent eyes. He had never known fear, not this fear, a true and total fear. He sat trembling for hours, as it paced back and forth, back and forth.

  He thought of his daughter, Dani, and the predicament in which he had left her. She was a tough kid, but now alone, and likely with no choice but to move in with his kooky bat of a mother. He hoped she was doing well and grateful that she did not know more of his situation. He could not bear the thought of her seeing him like this, seeing his fear, his cowardice, as he sat like a child after their first nightmare, trembling in the dark. He had prepared himself for the solitude and the inmates, but he had not anticipated this. How could he have? He did not sleep. He could not sleep. He could only watch, as it paced back and forth, back and forth.

  The morning came and it was once again gone. He slept only when he could hold his eyes open no longer, terrified of what he would find when he opened them again. Seven years once seemed unbearable, now it mattered not if it were seven, seventeen, or seventy. He could not endure seven days. He would challenge the next man who laughed or mocked him, he decided. He would take his chances with death or solitude, knowing that either would allow him a break from this brutality.

  He followed the other inmates as they gathered in the cafeteria. Again, the tattoo-covered man mocked as he passed. He waited until he acquired his food then walked up behind the man, hitting him hard over the back of his head with the tray. A fight broke out almost instantly as the man turned and dove. They rolled around on the floor, crashing into chairs and sending the other inmates into an uproar. He rolled over atop him and swung wildly, striking hard into his face as the backside of his head bounced off the floor. He had easily beaten the much larger man and continued to swing until the guards entered and hauled him away.

  A feeling of delightfulness fell over him as they carried him passed his cell and down a long dark corridor to the solitary confinement chambers. Free at last, he thought, when they stuck him in the small dark box and slammed the door behind him. He sat back in the corner, finally at ease as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He watched the small opening in the door as his eyes grew heavy. He had nearly fallen asleep when the motion caught his eye. The hole in the door then turned to blackness. He could feel its presence as it stood over him, hovering with intensity and anger. It no longer paced back and forth; instead, it just stood, peering down through its deep, dark, non-existent eyes.

  ~The End~

  Thank you for reading the first story of the ‘Tales from the Backwoods’

  More will be available soon.

  Try these other titles from the Backwoods:

  Unremembered, by Backwoods

  After a fatal crash, Ethan Wolfe must survive the wilderness to evade capture. He flees to Colorado to seek asylum with friends, only to find them facing an evil beyond imagination. A twisted dream and a shocking premonition leave him wondering if they face the evil or are the cause of it.

  Off Grid, by Backwoods

  Johnny & Rae Lynn Tapper find safety in solitude, hidden deep within the shelter of the Rocky Mountains. Terrorists have taken away the country they once knew and they survive, secluded and alone, by living off the land. They live wild new lives in a wild new world, living among the wild animals of the vast Colorado wilderness. There are no phones. There is no power. There are few people. They are completely 'Off Grid'.

  Stronghold, by Backwoods

  Book #2 of the Off Grid Series

  A year and a half after terrorist attacks decimate the country, a small group of survivors live ‘Off Grid’, secluded in the vast Colorado wilderness. Troubled by news of hostile militias and chaos beyond the mountains, they begin to build and fortify a new town as they prepare for eminent danger. The deadliest threat they face however, looms within, as they are unaware of the sadistic serial killer that is living among them, within their town, within their ‘Stronghold’.

  Coming Soon!!!

  ~Backwoods~

 
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