Haunted Historic 5k in partnership with Osceola/Kissimmee Chamber of Commerce and Osceola Arts
September 23, 2017
4PM - 8PM
Pioneer Village at Shingle Creek
To register click here: http://www.hauntedhistoric5k.com/
Haunted Historic 5k Narrative - The Beginning
It’s almost morning. Not another soul in sight. I pull my hands through the tangled locks of my hair. Deep breath. My heart is racing and my breath feels ragged. My hand holds me firm against the Blacksmith’s shop. The sign swings above, creaking eerily in the dead silence. Papa told me to stay away from the Indian chickies, but my curiosity always gets the better of me. The palmettos stir in the breeze. I take one staggering step forward, lose my balance and hit the dirt hard. My thoughts swirl like the billowing cloud of dust that surrounds me. Almost there.
The Tyson house is a few paces away, if I can just get to the door…. they will help me. I manage to drag myself to my feet and stagger to the old cracker house. I tap on the door. The slow drip of my blood thuds against the wooden porch. Inside, no one stirs. “Help” I whisper. No answer. “Help!” I plea, louder. No answer.
Frantically, I stumble down the stairs, my hand still applying pressure to the wound paining my gut. I see the Cadman boy’s quarters in the distance. Those three always stay up late. I make it to the dwelling but this time, I don’t knock, I fling open the door, and the boys jump to their feet. “Help me” I manage before I pass out.
When I come to, I am in the Cadman family kitchen. William, the oldest Cadman boy, who is about my age, looks over his shoulder to the closed door. The knife he holds so desperately in his hand makes me feel uneasy. I shift to touch my stomach, it still hurts, but the wound is dressed and I immediately feel a tinge of panic.
His eyes seem bewildered, like they have seen something horrible. As I came to my senses, I heard the screams filling the air. Occasional gun shots ring out through the screams, inducing a spine tingling fear. I break out in a cold sweat when William asks, “can you run?”
“I’m not sure…what is happening? Where is your…”
“We are under attack! Something is out there. Something not human…”
My heartbeat quickens, “What do you mean?”
“We have to run! Mother took Margery and the boys already, and Father is out with Mr. Tyson and the other men trying to fight off the monsters. I wanted to help, but Father said I couldn’t leave you. What happened?” he asks. His eyes flashing back to the door.
I furrow my brow and try to think back, grasping at any wisp of a memory I might have.
“I couldn’t sleep, so, I decided to go for a walk. I heard a commotion coming from the chickies. It was so dark I thought no one would see me. They were under attack! It was horrible…” a flash of remembered faces crying and screaming causes my mouth to go dry. I swallow hard and continue. Someone saw me, and started to come my way. There was blood and I thought he was hurt, but as he got closer to me, my lantern shined full on his face. I could see the blood wasn’t his, it was dripping from his mouth. His eyes looked so empty, his skin a pale grey, and he creeped like carelessly – as if in a trace. .”
At this, fear flashed in William’s eyes.
“I couldn’t move. The man was on the ground before I felt the bullet pass me. It went straight through the man in front of me and grazed my side. He slowed down but did not stop. It was then I saw that he was missing an arm but no blood was falling from the open wound. I was terrified and ran. I thought I was having a nightmare”
At this he swallowed, and said “It wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t a man, he was a monster. They don’t bleed if you stab them, bullets don’t kill them, and you can cut a limb right off but they don’t slow down and that is not even the worst part, they’re outside right now.”
My pulse is so fast; I feel the blood racing through my veins.
“They got the Blacksmith. I couldn’t stop them. He fell, and I saw them start to eat him, like hungry dogs attacking their prey.”
I gasped. “So, what do we do?”
He stood up straight. I could see the goosebumps on his arms, hear the scream still echoing around us. The smell of gunpowder and cooper tinged the air. We had to survive.
I stood up, completely numb. The pain and ache from a moment ago gone, replaced by adrenaline.
“We have to run.” he whispered. I nodded in agreement. He grabbed my hand, and threw open the door to the horror neither of us was prepared to meet.