Turnbull Canyon was a 7-mile winding road 20 miles east of downtown Los Angeles. Disturbing stories about unsolved murders, mystery plane crashes, bodies hanging from trees, to Satanic Cults that were rumored to have abducted young children for ritual sacrifices.
Locals perpetuated the tales to fuel the urban legends and as the sunlight quickly diminished, we frantically sped through each turn to reach the outer gates. A downed tree in the roadway suddenly brought our efforts to a screeching halt, as we witnessed an elderly lady approaching the vehicle with a bloody baby in her arms.
About the Creator
The Dangling Bead
My life is splashing before my eyes, as I precariously suspend and prepare for the end, the consumption of my Self and identity. I know that gravity will be the victor in this struggle. Like a pendant, slipping from the chain, the tension has caught me in this moment, bestowing one last gift of reflection. I cling desperately, questioning my purpose. Searching for comfort. And I remember…
By Leslie Staven4 days ago in Fiction
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