Witches in the Attic a chpt in the book i'm writing GRAPHIC

[adrian]

This is the skeleton for one of the chapters in my new book "Witches in the Attic" this is the first (and i mean FIRST) rough draft and i would just like to get some opinions...


Chapter 6:  Three Soldiers and a Woman
 

            Night had just set it only moments ago as the three troops began to return to the river.  They were exhausted from the days scouting and still had a couple of hours to march to the river.  The sun was down, but the humidity and the mosquitoes were making the end of their day extremely miserable.  The men were drenched in sweat and sore from patrolling the many acres that were assigned to them.  They had stopped all conversation because all three had become so irritable at one another that every conversation turned into bickering.  This duty of patrolling was not what either had expected it to be.

            John Greenwood was a simple dock hand in Charleston South Carolina before he met up with the confederate recruiters.  Being in his thirties and in great shape because of his job, the recruiters saw it best to have him join in with General Tyler’s forces where he would have the orders of scouting the lands in Georgia that the war hasn’t made its way to yet.  He stands six feet tall and looks like any typical pub junkie.  His chest and stomach are thick and his hair always matted.  Although he appears rough, but because of his dry humor and lack of complaining, he had become not only a favorite among his brigade, but a favorite of General Tyler’s as well.

            Terry Yarbrough, known as Red to his fellow soldiers for his bright red hair, walked along with the two of them as well.  Generally in a good mood all the time, Terry was actually not appearing fazed by the discomfort of the summer heat.  He is the shortest of the three and as white as a ghost.  Before this, he owned a small shop in Lagrange Georgia, just miles up the main road from where they are now.

            The third scouts name is Byron Smitty.  Byron’s baby face makes him a favorite among the women.  He is the most manicured of all the soldiers in Tyler’s unit.  He is constantly called on for punishment chores because of his practical jokes.  Byron loves to have fun and see people smile because of something he has done or said.  Being seventeen, he wasn’t working a steady job before the war.  He would help out on his grandfather’s cotton farm.  His responsibilities were simple; make sure the workers were doing what needed to be done.  He was left in charge of them when his grandfather had become ill with a flu that just wouldn’t leave the old man.

            Together the three made quite a patrolling unit; the kind, the happy, and the jokester.  General Tyler always thought hard about which soldiers would do best with the other, it kept harmony inside the camp.  He believed that harmony and unison in the camp, makes for great soldiers and brothers on the battle field.

            And together they walked, not silent, but very short.

            “This isn’t what I wanted,” said Byron sarcastically as he adjusted the rifle on his shoulder.  “Hell, I wouldn’t have signed up.” 

            Terry smiled trying to break the awkwardness of the past few moments of bickering.  John and Terry had gotten to be good friends during the early part of recruitment, so when Terry smiled, the mood became a little easier for John.

            “Hell,” Byron started to shout to trees, “Then I wouldn’t be walking in this damn heat!”

            John and Terry both started laughing.  The mood had just lifted thanks to Byron’s comedic cussing.  Terry was relieved.  He doesn’t handle awkward situations very well so thanks to Byron, maybe the journey back to base will not be so bad.

            Byron smiled and went back to his normal boyish tone and pitch.  “And I also wouldn’t have to be dealing with you two gay pieces of <deleted>,” he laughed.

            Terry burst into laughter at the jokingly accusation, “Hell naw,” he laughed.

            “You just wish you didn’t look so much like a girl,” John facetiously mumbled.

            The three laughed.  The thought of hours of marching through heat and summer bugs were forgotten about.  They were all now fifteen years old again and buddies in grade school it seemed.  The energy all together changed.  Now smiling and laughing, the three men cut up through the woods.  They cussed, they yelled, they joked, they poked fun at General Tyler, and even more, they made fun of the union.

            The confederate soldiers didn’t believe the union would try to make base at the southern grounds by the river.  It wasn’t good strategy since the banks on the other side were littered with confederate camps and a town of families.  It would take an insane, heartless Union general to try and take West Point.  Still though, just to be safe and keep the families protected, the higher ranked General Robert E. Lee demanded that a base be kept on the high grounds and river banks of West Point.  Also, he ordered to have a small brigade of troops to patrol the forest for any Union scouts, messengers, or even worse, an oncoming army. 

             Snap!  A large tree branch fell hard from a tree in the near distance.  It slammed to the ground like thunder.

            The three soldiers stopped all merry making and stood silent in the dark with their eyes and ears wide open, listening and watching closely.  All of sudden, as quickly as it was forgotten, the sounds of the dark forest came back.  The whippoorwills were in the distance.  The crickets screeched like nails on a chalk board.  And an incredible amount of heat hit the soldiers all at once.  They remember its late summer now.

            “What was that?” Terry whispered to break the silence.  He was the most scared of all of them.

            John then slowly moved to Terry’s side.  Byron did the same.

            “<deleted>, I don’t know,” whispered Byron.  His eyes were the widest.

            The last thing the soldiers expected to come across was the Union.  All three of them thinking the same thing; how many of them are there and have they seen us already?  It was the scariest thing they had ever experienced in their lives.  The thought of standing in the dark woods of West Point with each other, each just met only months ago, could possibly be standing in plain view of no telling how many armed Union soldiers.  The thought was over whelming.  It was their worst fear imaginable, until what happened next.

            Byron’s face tightened in fear as he pointed towards the tree limbs of a large oak in front of them.  His lips began quivering uncontrollably as he stuttered the words, “What… what the <I have a poor vocabulary> is that?”

            Terry and John both saw what Byron was pointing to.  The three stood still as it crawled into view on a branch not covered by leaves.

            It crawled on all fours.  Its long hair was strung wet on its face and around its shoulders.  It also wasn’t long before they noticed it wasn’t clothed, it was human, and it was a woman.  Her body contortedly slid its body down onto the branch.  She moved slowly.  Her eyes were wide open and could clearly be seen through her hair.  They stayed fixed on the soldiers like a wild dog who had gone mad.  The rest of her face was emotionless.  If it weren’t for her paleness and demon like posture, she could have been attractive.

            The men were not focused on her beauty though.  Their eyes were wide and their bodies were shaking.  John kept his hand gripped to his rifle.  This woman was not here for just any reason.

            After a few seconds that seemed like hours, the woman spoke.  Her face did not change expression and her eyes kept wide.  Her body sat completely still, crouched on the branch.

            “Only those who have Holy grows will catch this one,” she spoke.  Her voice was sinfully young.  It was cool against the summer heat and almost inviting.  But even worse it acted as a spell of its own.

Instantly the men began thinking of finding pleasures by raping young girls.  John thought of pinning a girl down to the floor of her school.  She would be screaming and flailing her arms.  The more she fought the more he wanted it.

Terry’s was similar but more violent.  He imagined a school room also, but while pinned down, every time she yelled he would slide a small blade into her side.  If she whined afterwards, he would turn the blade.

Byron thought of the witch in front of him.  She was young, thirteen maybe.  He wanted to snatch her down from the tree and destroy her insides.  

Not one of the soldiers has ever thought this way nor would they have ever.  There was something in the girl’s voice that was putting the thoughts there.  Byron’s was the one that she was looking for.  That was the thought she needed.

Out of the corner of Byron’s eye he saw something running insanely towards them.  It was moving fast and in a charging manor.

“Look!” he pointed.  This was the first time the men’s eyes left the woman.  “Something’s coming.”

The soldiers started backing up when they began to make out what it was, or wasn’t.

“This one,” the girl spoke again, “Is a special kind of demon.”

Terry stumbled over a branch but quickly regained his footing.

“He is my father and he protects me,” she continued.  “I put him down because of the things he thought about.  Now soldier, he’s going to put you down.”

The demon was closer now.  Only seconds away.  It was tearing through the forest madly and didn’t seem to feel the underbrush scratching and cutting its skin.  It made gargling yells that came from deep inside its throat and in between them, it would awkwardly yelp.  It had no eyes.  Covering the sockets was skin.  As the demon came closer they began to smell this rancid odor.  It was an odor they never had come across.  

            Terry turned in fear and started sprinting through the darkness, John and Byron turned and followed.  Their feet clumsily dug into the ground.

            Terry kept his eyes nearly closed.  He did not want to see what was happening.  When he gets back to camp, he would forget it.    John’s breaths were becoming short.  His asthma was getting the best of him and in this moment of heat and fear, he felt his lungs contracting quicker and quicker and beginning to stick together.  Byron was behind the three, he was least in shape.  He was the only one screaming for help.  No one would hear him.  But the screams gave him the opening in his mind that would allow his brain to tell his legs “Run you fools!  There’s a good chance you’ll going to die if you don’t!”

            To John, the thought of “It’s us three against that one thing, couldn’t we possibly take him down?” would cross his mind for a bit.  But hearing the fear from Byron and seeing Terry whimpering as he pushed himself as hard as he could to get away, the brave thoughts were replaced with the same fear.  If they do get way, there’s no way in hell they’ll forget the witch and the beast man.

            Then all of a sudden, Byron was hit by tremendous force on his back, knocking him forwards and slamming him into a tree.  Crack! His body wrapped around the trunk.  Byron heard multiple bones of his shatter beneath the skin.  He had been slammed into a large pine.  Instantly, excruciating pain took over his body as he slid onto the ground.  He had hit the tree on his left side. He couldn’t breathe.  He couldn’t call for help.  The baby faced soldier couldn’t even see.  All he could do was listen and feel the pain of the attack.  Byron’s forehead had been gashed by a low limb and blood was constantly covering his face.  As he opened his mouth in agony, his teeth were also being covered in blood.

            Byron was paralyzed at this point.  He could not feel his limbs any longer and was at the mercy of this eyeless demon.  He heard the demon breathing.  It was only a few inches way from his face now.  The rancid odor crept back into the soldier’s noses.  He was thankful he couldn’t see.  He did not want to see it.  The young soldier didn’t want to give the demon that respect.  There’s was nothing he could do now but wait for some sort of follow up attack.

            Terry and John had turned around at this point.  They were only a few yards ahead of them when the man demon had attacked.

            “Byron!” cried Terry as he cried.  “Get up!”     

            There was nothing Byron could do.

            “Terry, keep running,” ordered John, “Go get help!  Warn the others this thing is out here.”

            Byron let out a terrible scream!

            Both John and Terry turned around and gazed at what the demon was doing to their fellow soldier.  They could not believe what they were seeing.

            The demon placed its left hand on Byron’s shoulder and started digging its finer tips into the skin.  Byron moaned in torment as its fingertips broke the skin and sank deep into his flesh on into the muscles.

            Neither Terry nor John could move at this point.  They were shocked.

            After most of the demons hand was nearly completely submerged into the boy’s shoulder, it took a firm grip onto the muscle and began snatching brutally on it.  Bryon’s screams were now blood filled as he began to gargle on his own blood.  The demon kept snatching, ripping muscle, skin, veins, and what ever else it could tear away.

            The sound of flesh was grotesque.  Terry fell to his knees and started dry heaving while he hysterically cried.  John still stood silent and wide eyed in horror.  This demon that had come from no where was all of sudden killing a fellow soldier and friend who they had, less than ten minutes ago, been laughing with, and there was nothing he could do.

            Crack!  They heard Byron’s shoulder bone snap as the attacker gripped the bone and started twisting and snatching.  It’s trying to rip his arm off!

            “Terry run!” shouted John to his friend.  John grabbed Terry by the waist and snatched him to his feet.  “God dammit get the hell out of here!”

            Terry wiped his eyes and without question or looking back, he fled into the woods heading towards the river.

            John turned towards Byron and the demon.  “This is not happening,” he kept trying to tell himself.  No one should have to suffer like this, especially some one who has done nothing to deserve it. 

            Rip!  The demon snatched off the arm of the baby faced soldier.  Byron let out a week cry for help as pieces of bone, veins, and muscle dangled from his severed arm and wound.  Un godly amounts of blood was leaving his body now and besides the red liquid that painted his skin, Byron was turning extremely pail.

            The demon leaned back, and with its knees still on the soldier’s body, it placed its head onto the ground and through the arm behind him.  It was moving with extreme flexibility.  After it through the arm into the under brush it lifted back up and faced Byron again.

            Something inside of John snapped at this point.  The amount of fear and hate were over whelming now.  He knew Byron would die here and so would he.  The hate he had for this demon and for what was happening had gotten so strong that John no longer thought about the consequence.  It was almost like John’s conscience had been literally scared out of him.  He clenched his fist, and with a yell charged at the demon.

           

             His eyes were too dry now to cry and his throat hurt from heaving hysterically.  His legs tingled and his heart beat out of his chest.  He was covered in sweat and had taken off the heavy uniform coat and abandoned it along with his hat long ago in the forest.  His rifle was no longer with him.  That too had been dropped.  His legs were soaking wet from stumbling clumsily in the creeks he had tried to jump across.  All the red headed soldier could do was whimper and try to keep his eyes open.  He knew the moment he’d close them, surely he would faint and meet the same fate as the two friends he had left behind.

            Coming into base camp, Terry thought he would have been relieved.  But while fleeing for an hour full speed, he had time to gain his composure a little and think.  He had begun to think himself as a coward for not being able to control himself and worst of all, leaving as he did.  John had stayed to save their friend; Terry began to regret that he did not.  Still he told himself, “I have to tell the others.  What if this happens again?”

            Quickly, Terry fell into the entrance of General Tyler’s tent.

            “General,” he said gasping dryly for air.  He looked up for the officer, but General Tyler was not there.  Terry lowered his head onto the ground and laid there for a moment to catch his breath.  “Dammit!” he cried to himself.  He did feel horrible though.  He felt he had done the most dishonorable thing any soldier could have done.  He had watched one friend being attacked, and left two friends to be killed.  This was something he would never forgive himself for.

            Catching his breath as quickly as he could, Terry climbed to his feet.  His legs were throbbing in pain and exhaustion.  He could almost feel the blood and oxygen fighting its way through his body.  He turned quickly to look for his commander when he bumped right into General Tyler as he was coming into his tent.

            At the site of his scout’s ghastly and horrid appearance, General Tyler grabbed the soldier by his soldiers and brought him to the ground to sit.  Terry began stuttering out desperation to tell his story.

            “Gen… Gen… Gen…” he stuttered poorly.  Terry was shaking and as white as a ghost.

            “What happened solder?” General Tyler asked trying to calm to the boy down.  He had never seen Red like this before.  “Where are your scout partners?”  General Tyler noticed that the other two were not with him.

            “A m…m…m… m… man came f… fr…from the woods,” Terry informed as he continued to stutter. 

            General Tyler didn’t like it but knew he had to be patient.  He knew that when Red was excited or emotional, he would break into this terrible stutter that made him take forever to say what he wanted to say.

            “Was he a Union soldier?” asked the general as he took Terry by his face.

            Terry shook his head and began to cry.

            “Soldier, pull yourself together!” yelled General Tyler. “Were you on the Fuller property?”

            “No,” Terry whimpered.  His lips were now covered in spit and his nose was running.  His cheeks were red against his pale face and his eyes gleamed with tears.

            “Was it a Union soldier?” the general asked again growing impatient.

            “No… no sir,” Terry replied.

            “What the hell happened, private?”

            Terry began to try and control his breathing.  He knew that if he didn’t calm down he would never be able to tell him what happened.

            “Sir,” Terry began, “There w… wa… was a g… girl in a tree… tree.”

            “Where are your scout partners Terry?” the general asked again.

            “They’re dead, sir,” Terry began to cry again.

            General Tyler’s heart sank.  All he has gotten out of this was that Terry is alive, John and Byron are dead, and there was a woman in the tree.  This was really beginning to get aggravating.  After a moments thought, General Tyler knew that this conversation was going no where.

            “You’re safe now, private,” the general said kneeling down, placing his hand on Terry’s shoulder, “I need you to report to your bunk and calm down.  I will alert the camp at once and I’ll return to you shortly to figure this out.  In the mean time, you need to lie in bed and calm down.  Hell if you can then go to sleep.  I will have men armed and on the perimeter.  Trust me, you’re safe now.”

            Terry, for a moment, just stared at the general.  Was this real?  Did everything that just happened really happen?  The reality hadn’t truly set in until this moment.  Terry looked at General Tyler just thinking, “He really is here.  This is really happening.  John and Byron are really dead.  After those thoughts his mind went blank in exhaustion.  He simply nodded to his officer and left quickly to report to his bunk.

            General Tyler stood for a moment collecting his thoughts.  “This land will protect itself,” rang Jude’s words in his head.  There was no way that crazy old man was serious.  There was no way that there was any truth in the words he spoke.  It was impossible.  Was there really something in the woods that threatened his forces that much?

            Then he remembered York’s dream.  The young man also saw a woman in the woods.  Was this coincidence or were the soldier’s and villagers’ childish superstitions true?   The general had heard of this town’s story.  He had heard about the days the locals call ‘the Reformation.’  In matter of fact, all of the troops had heard about it.  They heard there was a lover’s quarrel.  They heard that a witch was murdered and her sister placed an extremely deadly curse on the land.  It was a curse that immediately put her to her grave.  They heard that there were wolves and demons and unbearable sicknesses.  It is said that in West Point Georgia, if it goes bump in the night, then odds are it’ll bump into you. 

General Tyler was a military man and never believed in ghost or witch stories.  But seeing the condition Red was in, he was now at least giving more thought to old man Fuller’s words.  The land will protect itself.  Damn him if he speaks the truth.  General Tyler decided that moment to first deal with the troops.  His plans were to, by early morning, send mass forces into the forest to look for their fellow soldier’s bodies and also for their killer.  After his troops return and it is sure that the confederates have regained control of the woodlands on the south side of the river, General Tyler would pay a personal visit back to the pumpkin farmer.  Tyler suspects the old man knows something about what happened.  The general wasn’t sure if the old man was responsible or not, but damned if he doesn’t try his best to dig it out of him.  So the plans were drawn out, secure the south land and return to the pumpkin farmer.

[MyersFan1]

I am truely impressed. Great use of imagery and i like how it's descriptive. Keep up the good work, for a skeleton of the chapter it is really good.

[adrian]

I am truely impressed. Great use of imagery and i like how it's descriptive. Keep up the good work, for a skeleton of the chapter it is really good.

thank you. yea its very tongue in cheek sort to say and will mature more when i finish the skeleton of the entire book. then i'll be able to back chapter by chapter and "work on" developing the story and its maturity