Z2012SITEBMACHINESHOP

Everyone in the base has heard the rumor. Pete, one of my co-workers at the shop, had told me the story, and being the loud mouth he is, he spread the story throughout the bases putting extra twists just to make it sound more terrifying. The younger workers faces turned white as they listened closely to Pete's every word. The story was based around the rickety old shack that stands just next to the shop where satan worshippers used to flock to perform suspicious rituals in the late 1940s. Back, the church and the police had made an effort to eliminate Satanism in the Charleston area. The worshippers believed that they could fly under their radar at the shack because it was in the middle of no where (at that time, the naval bases hadn't been built). Every third Wednesday, they came from their hididng places to the shack where they would perform their ceremonies. At each gathering, the group used forbidden black magic to place curses on the people they hated. With each curse, they became more advanced in their spells and magic ; they started thinking of greater things to conjure. One day, they sacrificed an enormous amount of lambs, doe, and even humans. They used their blood to paint pentagrams and other symobls on the floors of the shack to summon some terrible being, but they never finished. The Event caused the Satan worshippers to scatter never to return to the shack, but one decided to stay. He finished the symbols, but he was never seen again. Some say that he brought forth a creatrue from hell to spread chaos to the world, and others say that the whole satanic group was insane. Pete was the gossip of the base, so no one knew if this story was true. He loved to spread thing rumors and blow them out of porportion. He also loved to pull pranks on the younger workers which I secretly found hilarious. I didn't have any interest in it, so i just kept to my work. The next day Pete told me of his great prank to stage the events of the story while the young workers had to repair ther outside of the workshop. Even though I took a secret joy to the cruel pranks, I didn't think that it was right, but I knew that Pete would do it with or without me. I knew he would do something stupid if I didn't go with him, so I told him that I would. We met at markers across the street to gather our supplies, and we started to walk to the shack. I noticed that the moon wasn't out that night, and that gave me an eerie feeling. Pete didn't notice, and he kept walking with a beam of confidence in his prank. We put our bags of supplies at the front of the shack, and we split up to search the shack for anyone who decided to stay after work and roam the place. The place was clear and we met back up at the front. Pete pulled out two large black hooded robes from his bag. He said he got them from a friend. Then, a sound came from the back corner of the shack. It sounded like a piece of wood hitting the floor. Both of us froze. Our eyes were pinned to the back corner of the building. Pete slowly started to stand up to investigate, but he was shoved to the side by an invisible force. He landed a few feet away from me. Everyting was quiet. We didn't say a word; we just stared at each other in shock. "I must have just lost my balance," Pete mumbled coming back to his senses while i just sat in front of him still in a daze. He got up again and patted me on the back to snap me out of my trance, and we started again to pull out the supplies. With our arms full with materials, we hesistantly stepped into the shack. Nothing happened. A sigh of relief washed over me, and i thought to myself "Its all in my imagination." I was wrong. The door to the shack slammed shut behind us, and we were trapped. the worn away symbols on the floor started to glow. Hairline scratches marked up our bodies and blood began to pour. We were being sacrificed! Quickly, I grabbed Pete's arm and ran. The next three months were a disaster. For weeks, Pete rambled on and on about the events, but no one believed him. Eventually, he was sent to an institution where they could "help him sort out his problems." The events that night did not have the same effect on me. I felt obligated to continue working at the shop to ensure that no one ever goes into that shack because I am certain they would not return.





Anne Padgett