The Haunting of Harbinger Barn

“Elroy! Pick up the phone man! Where are you? You gotta help me bro. I don’t know what’s going on, but I need to get out of here. I need you to come get me.” A loud crash ignited in the background. The call began cutting off. “Please...get out...Harbinger Barn...help me...AHHH!”

That voicemail one week ago was the first Elroy had heard of his brother in three months, and the last since. Any attempts to call back were met with, “I’m sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service…”

Elroy’s shoulders trembled in the cold. “Come on,” he said. He’d been driving for what felt like hours. The rain was only getting heavier, the night sky couldn’t be darker, and his heater couldn’t be any more broken. It would take a miracle for him to find anything in this condition. But hey, that’s family for you. “Where is it?”

The only clue his brother had left was the name of a motel in some off-the-road town that no one ever visited. Any normal person would wonder what brought a man to such a place, but not Elroy. He was used to his brother’s odd hours in strange places. Don Carter was a traveler, religiously, and nothing stopped him from having a good adventure. Only one question now. Where was he?

A light began to show a little ways up the road getting bigger and bigger until he could make out what it was. The light was coming from a lamp post at the corner of an old fashioned gas station. Elroy’s tires screeched as he pulled in beside one of the gas pumps. “Hello?” He cried out hoping someone would counter with their own greeting. “I’m a little lost. Is anyone there?”

He ventured around further, turning the corner of the building until he spotted an old man working on an old red pick-up truck. Surely he must have heard Elroy asking for help, but he made no effort to break away from his work in the engine. Or the carburetor. Or whatever. Elroy wasn’t great with cars. Regardless of what the old man was in the middle of, Elroy just wanted to get his brother and go home.

“Excuse me, sir?” The old man looked at him sideways. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be a bother. I’m just looking for a motel called, eh,” he struggled with the chicken scratch on the parchment paper in his pocket. He tried to hurry himself along, afraid the old man would lose interest. “It’s called ‘Harbinger Barn?’”

“That there is Harbinger Barn.” The old man pointed a small ways up the road. His voice was scratchy, coming out forced. “It’s through that old forest.” Elroy looked over and up where a small structure waited at the top. “I wouldn’t go up there if I were you.”

“Afraid I have no choice,” he laughed trying to add some levity to the situation. Anyone could see how badly this town needed it. “I’m looking for my brother. Have you seen him? He’s a little taller than me, brown hair, probably driving a Toyota.”

“Yeah I’d seen him. He was here asking ‘bout that barn like you.” He whipped his greasy cloth on his overalls and turned to face Elroy. “When are you people gonna learn to take good advice when it smacks you right in the face? You got no business up there.”

He was becoming a little annoyed at the old man’s insistence. “Thanks for your ‘advice,’ but—”

“Don’t take my words so lightly boy!” The old man’s demeanor changed completely. He’d turned from calm and creepy to down right viscous. He walked over to Elroy, dragging his left leg and came to about an inch away from his face. “Whoever you’re looking for, they’re better left forgotten. Ain’t nobody got no business in that barn.” With that, the old man turned away, uninterested in any response Elroy had to offer. He slammed the hood of the truck and disappeared around the corner of the building.

Elroy figured that would be the last he ever saw of that man, and he wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it. “Good riddance,” he thought to himself.

***

His car made its way through the trees and up the dirt road to the barn, crashing into every pothole on the way there. His car tires screeched to a stop and Elroy opened the door to get out.

Just then, a black figure jumped out at him. “Ah!” He yelled, throwing his arms out in front of him for defense. He stepped backwards now pinned against his car door. He watched as the black figure separated into three parts, and flew away. Crows. Just crows. Elroy let out an exhausted sigh, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. Thankfully, no one was around to hear his girlish screams or that could have been utterly embarrassing. He did not do well with creepy or spooky situations.

“Odd,” he thought out loud. “Who would stay at a motel like this?” Not only was it creepy, but even from ten feet away, he could see the age of the structure. The once red paint had turned maroon and began peeling off in ragged stripes.

One of the barn doors had swung open and it crashed hard into the other with the wind, beckoning any visitors that crossed its path. It sent a chill to Elroy’s spine like a talon gently tracing the hollow of his back. With a deep breath he began to step towards the door. This, he thought, would be the part of the movie where everyone in the theater would tell him to turn back. “Here goes nothing.”

He placed a hand on the swinging door and steadied it to a stop when he heard a ‘woo’ coming from the distance. There under the moonlight he spotted an albino barn owl. It had turned its head all the way around to stare him down. Maybe it was just a statue.

As if reading his mind, the owl blinked three times as a signal to him. Okay not a statue. “Don’t mind me owly. I don’t mean any harm.” Wearily he continued into the abyss that was the inner barn.

There was a loud crack that echoed through the field. The crows took to the sky calling their brothers to follow. Within seconds, the entire farm was left deserted, save for the owl who remained still, now looking forward at the horizon, waiting for its next victim.