The Binding mist

Light filtered in through tattered slats, many of which hung loosely on the large old door. Sara looked longingly, wanting desperately to get a glimpse of what lay beyond, but the tether prevented it. How long had she been confined here? It was a question that grated every morning when the darkness gave way to a new day. Suddenly she realized her hand was outstretched toward the rays piercing the dimness of the old barn. With a jerk she drew it back and retreated to the slightly comforting shroud of hay that had become her home.

Sometime later a familiar noise broke the silence and Sara peered out from the dry straw watching a hand appear, set an object down, then vanish. With a dull clunk the barn door closed once again leaving the interior cloaked in shadow. Sara slipped out from the tangle of hay and moved toward the newly arrived object. A bowl filled with soup sat on the hard packed dirt, tendrils of steam rising from its surface. Frustration surged as the binding that kept her prisoner also prevented her from reaching the bowl. It was just out of reach. With a shrug of resignation Sara again sought the safety of her burrow.

Sara roused hearing another familiar sound and looked toward the front of the structure. A cat sat hunched over the bowl hungrily lapping the fluid within. It was a feral creature, unaccustomed to the company of humans and reacted badly anytime Sara had tried to get near. She stayed put, watching, wanting to avoid the hissing and snarling it demonstrated when confronted. It finished, looked around then disappeared through a broken slat.

Hours later light began to dwindle and Sara sat cross legged beside the ceiling support that lay next to the straw. As usual, just before the last trace of day dwindled into darkness the old door creaked open and a shadowed hand retrieved the bowl. It was at this time each day that a deeper sadness rose and though knowing it was futile Sara cried out, “Help Me.” She repeated it several times but the only answer she received in return was the plaintive whistling of the wind. She had done so many times before.

Hunger surged yet Sara had become used to not eating. She regarded her arm and grimaced. It was bony, thin and pale. How much longer would this nightmare endure? She had no idea how long it had been since she had seen the green of the forest and the blue of the sky. All she wanted to do was go home.

Startled, Sara sat bolt upright as a groan from the door filled the barn and she peered out from her bed, wide eyed. A shadowy form peered around the door, back lit by a faint light from outside. “Hello.” a voice said timidly.

Sara, mouth agape shivered in confusion.

“Is there anyone here?” The voice asked.

“Yes,” Sara replied, voice trembling.

The figure entered cautiously, “Where are you?”

Sara stepped from her hiding place and moved into a shaft of dim moonlight. “Here.” Her eyes studied the individual. It was a young boy not much older than herself. For a moment the lad looked as if he might bolt. His eyes were wide in disbelief and shock. After a minute or so his face calmed and he stepped closer. His eyes moved from her head to her feet then his gaze followed the line that trailed behind her to the spot where it was anchored to the floor. “You’re a prisoner.” He said, stunned.

Without warning the doors of the barn flew open, one hitting the boy from behind knocking him to the ground. Sara looked at the newcomer with horror. The boy quickly rolled over and gaped at the sight standing over him. It was an old woman. Her face twisted in a horrible expression of mixed rage and fear, In her hands an axe. She paused only a moment before raising the tool and lunging. A bellowing snarl filled the enclosure as the axe fell, sinking deep in the soil, just missing as he rolled out of the way. With a grunt the boy rose and faced the old woman. Sara looked on from behind him, terrified.

The old woman advanced menacingly, backlit, her face lost in shadow. A second lunge missed the boy by a good margin and this seemed to infuriate the woman even more. “You’ll not undo my family.” the old woman screamed. The boy backed deeper into the dark recess of the old building, putting a support post between himself and the woman. Slowly the crone advanced and with great effort let the axe fly. The boy fell backward, the axe slashing the air barely missing his head. The wild arc of the tool unbalanced the woman and she toppled left. A sickening snap sounded as she fell through the rotting timbers of one of the stalls.

Silence. For several minutes the boy looked at the old woman, eyes wary. Sara stood still, waiting. The woman’s face, revealed in a shaft of moonlight, was very familiar. Sara began to cry, though no tears would come. Movement to her right drew her attention and she watched the boy rise to his feet. “Can you see me?” Sara asked.

“I can,” The boy said, his demeanor still one of disbelief. “Who are you?”

“My name is Sara,” She said, then looked at the body lying nearby. “At least that’s what she called me.”

“I’m Jordan,” the boy offered with a smile.

“Hello Jordan,” Sara said, giving the boy a sad smile.

Jordan regarded her for a moment then cast his gaze on the thin tendril of ethereal mist that trailed away from her toward a spot on the floor, “What’s this?”

“I don’t know,'' she replied.

He walked to the spot where the shimmering thread terminated. “I wonder.”

“How is it you can see and hear me?” Sara asked, “Others have been here and could not.”

“I...,” Jordan said haltingly, ''Um, I don’t really know. My family moved here from the city. I kept having nightmares about bad things.” Jordan paused and inhaled deeply looking around the dark interior. “It was like the dead were seeking me out. I tried to tell my folks about it, but they didn’t believe it was real. It got so bad I had a breakdown, so here we are.” Finding a small rusty trowel Jordan returned to the spot and began to dig. After several minutes the boy stopped and set the tool aside. At the bottom of the hole lay a spot of dull white.

He stood and turned to look at Sara, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Morning light filtered through the old door when Sara rose from her bed. She looked toward the crumbling portal and for a time was confused why the door didn’t open. Why didn't the hand place the steaming bowl in its spot? Moments later the fog of her unworldly slumber dissipated and she remembered.

Well past midday the sound of a motor car roused Sara and she moved up to the hay loft. It had been a long while since any living thing other than mice had ventured there. Sitting on the edge Sara waited. She could hear a voice calling out in the distance then silence. A short time later the barn door swung inward.

“Haven’t seen that before.” A woman in a tan uniform said, looking oddly at the doors.

Sara couldn’t make out what they said but her face brightened as Jordan entered, “ Hello Jordan,” she said cheerfully.

“What the hell was that?” The man snapped looking around frantically.

The woman momentarily held her breath before letting it out slowly, “I can see why some have claimed this barn’s haunted.”

Jordan looked up to where Sara sat and gave her a half hearted grin. He pointed to the body lying partially hidden in one of the stalls. “She’s there.”

The two officers walked to where the old woman lay. For a time they studied her and talked in hushed tones. About ten minutes passed before the man stood and motioned Jordan to him. “Is this the other curiosity you mentioned?” the officer asked, pointing.

“Yes.” Jordan replied.

The officer picked up the little trowel Jordan had used and set to clearing more dirt.

Jordan could still see the faintly glowing thread emanating from the spot leading up to Sara. Her expression was hopeful, but laced with uncertainty.. Jordan gave her a reassuring smile.

“What are you smiling at boy?” The female officer asked.

Jordan lowered his eyes, “Just marveling that this barn is still standing.” He said.

Oh my God, Jess. the male officer exclaimed. The woman moved to his side. The crown of a human skull peered out from the depression. Jordan looked down and a tear came to his eye. He knew he was looking at Sara.

“How did you know where to find this?”

“I heard the same sound you heard last night.” Jordan stated then took a deep breath. “I was curious and came to look. After I came in here is when the old lady attacked me.”

“You were attacked by old Mrs. Whorton.”

“Yeah, she handled that axe pretty well.”

The male officer looked at Jordan skeptically, “That still doesn’t explain how…”

I haven’t got to that part yet.” Jordan stated.

“Get on with it then.”

Jordan hesitated a moment, collecting his thoughts then spoke, “When she attacked she went out of her way to avoid that spot,” he fabricated. She swung the axe and the weight of it made her fall where you see her. After she didn’t move for a while I checked and she was dead I guess. A snapping sound and that was it. I was curious why she avoided it,” Jordan said, letting out a nervous breath, “The ground was different from what was around it.”

“We have a junior detective here.” The woman officer stated with feigned deference.

With a grunt the male officer rose, withdrew his phone from his pocket and walked out. Sara watched it all from her perch with mixed emotions as flashes of memory surged through her. Some were instantly recognizable while others were strange and fleeting. Time passed and the silence was frustrating. Jordan had looked toward her several times, but no words were exchanged. Sara began to cry and the woman officer suddenly became agitated before exiting in a rush.

“Why did she act like that?” Sara asked.

“All they hear is a shrill moaning.” Jordan explained.

Sara’s face fell, “Oh, that’s why no one came before.”

Jordan nodded, “Yeah, you kinda scared people away.

Another vehicle arrived and Jordan moved to where he could see out. The SUV had the word Coroner stenciled on the door. A woman in a suit and a young man in white scrubs got out. They and the two officers headed toward the barn. Once inside, the two coroners were shown the small depression and they knelt down over it. The woman opened a small leather case. A while later the young coroner hurried out and the woman tucked her tools away and came over to where Jordan and the officers waited.

“Is this the young man who found the body?”

“Yes,” one officer replied.

“I’m sure there will be time to explore that later,” she said, giving Jordan an almost motherly smile then turned to the two police. “I estimate the bones have been there at least thirty-five years."

“That old,” the male officer said falteringly as he regarded Jordan.

The coroner looked from Jordan to the officer and smirked at the latter. “Carl, was this boy your suspect.” she chuckled. I know that kind of thing’s not unheard of, but you could at least wait until the evidence is in...”