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What the Dead Crave...

David Thomas

By David ThomasPublished 2 years ago 14 min read
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What the Dead Crave…

Hank Jerrod was the worst Serial Killer never convicted.

You’ve probably never heard of him unless you lived in Louisiana in the mid-80s, and then only in the Bayous where families and clans enforced out their own kind of justice in lieu of the law.

Over the course of nearly three years nearly a hundred young girls, aged ten to sixteen had simply disappeared among the swampyd bayous. Their families had no clues to their whereabouts and had finally petitioned the Parish police for help.

The bayous are a murky and mysterious mixture of rivers, swamps and islands: full of legends, black magic and voodoo curses. Snakes, crocodiles and other creatures reside in these areas along side families who made their money fishing and working off-shore in the oil fields and living in trailers or run-down shanty homes that back up to the water.

This is where I grew up, listening to the tales of voodoo and black magic, warned not to go walking in the bayous at night for fear of disappearing. This was reinforced the night that Hank Jerrod was trapped by the Parish Police in Black bayou.

After nine months of investigating they’d linked him to the disappearances and had been closing in on him. Hank had lived on an aging, barely floating houseboat that had probably been decent at one time. It had been spotted in the same areas girls had disappeared, confirming their suspicions.

They found and searched the boat that fateful day and had made a gruesome discovery that was both sickening and terrifying: a collection of severed, rotting hands wrapped in plastic wrap and dumped in sealed coolers

They’d waited for him to return and had trapped him on his boat later that night. In a brief shootout with police and he’d been shot and had fallen into the black waters. Dive teams had been summoned but his body was never recovered.

Since that night that area of the bayou had been named “Dead Hand” by the locals and was less than a mile from where I’d lived. That was one more tale used to terrify children into staying away only it was something we knew too well was real.

Who knew what really happened to Jerrod’s body? Whatever happened to the bodies of his victims?

It was nearly five years since I’d left the bayou, deciding to go to Louisiana State University to become a doctor rather than go to work off-shore like many of my friends. It was the invitation to become best man at my friends wedding that finally brought me back.

The Bayou felt different now: more humid and murky than I remembered and I could feel the familiar fear creep into the back of my brain as I stepped out of my car onto the squishy grass in front of my old home.

Gnarled trees rose from brown, brackish water and reeds poked up around them, swaying gently in the barely flowing current. The smell of rotting wood and plants invaded my senses and I wrinkled my nose. I walked to the water’s edge and looked out past the clusters of Cypress trees and brush covered islands to the waters of the Atchafalaya River as it wound its meandering way nearly sixty miles to the Gulf.

Lots of memories, more bad than good, came flooding back and I shook my head as I sorted through them before setting them aside and decided to go inside the aging single story home.

It was as I had left it years ago, paintings hung on faded wood paneled walls, aged carpets that badly needed replacing covered floors, and the familiar smell of Moms cooking coming from the kitchen. I wandered silently through to the kitchen and greeted her with a smile.

“You’re early!” Her brown eyes lit up when she saw me and we embraced. “I’m so glad you came back! I wasn’t sure you would.”

I shrugged.

“The past is the past, besides, I was a kid back then…those murders and the threats: they’re history now.”

“People around here never forget or forgive the past. They won’t let you forget that Hank Jerrod was your Uncle.” Her voice took an ominous tone. “Kids have started disappearing again: boys and girls this time.”

I stiffened and pulled back to look at her.

“Who do they think did it?”

She shrugged.

“Everything points to our family. No traces again and there’s been no sign of your Uncle’s houseboat in months.”

A chill ran down my spine and a cold fear engulfed my heart.

“I thought you’d had it destroyed after the police released it?”

She shook her head sadly.

“We never got around to it. Figured people would end their fascination with it and forget about it.”

“How many kids?”

“Six in the last two months.”

“So what, they think the ghost of Hank Jerrod is behind it?”

“They never found his body, and a ghost can’t pilot a houseboat.”

That night, as I started at the ceiling of my room thoughts and questions filled my mind. Where was Hank’s houseboat? Was he still alive? If not, who was kidnapping these kids?

A soft wind blew outside my window, a moaning sound chilling me to the core and I climbed out of bed to shut the window. As I glanced outside something peculiar caught my attention and I looked down.

A patch of black, swirling water was emitting a faint bluish glow that shimmered. As much as I tried I couldn’t tear my eyes from it. At first, I thought it was a reflection of some kind until it began to move slowly against the current towards the shore.

My heart pounded in my chest as I raced out of the room and out the back door, skidding to a halt at the edge of the water. The strange, faint glow had stopped a foot or so from the shore.

I stared at it, trying to find its source in the murky waters. I inched closer to get a better look and felt my foot slip a little, or was it pulled? Before I could react I fell feet first into the water.

Something powerful slid up and wrapped itself around my legs!

I tried to roll onto my side but I was pinned knee deep in the muck. I screamed and reached back for a root, a tree, anything to pull myself free but my hands simply flailed uselessly in the air. Something pulled me further into the water and wrapped around my thighs as I struggled to stand up. I looked into the glow that had suddenly grown more intense and screamed in terror.

A distorted shape that reminded me of some misshapen head seemed to look up at me. There was a maw that was crooked and slanted upward on one side and two jagged holes at odd angles that might have been eye sockets. Weird shaped flaps hung from the object that I couldn’t guess at but the entire affect was gruesome and terrifying and I kept screaming and struggled to free myself.

I reached into the water, trying to find what was holding me and felt something slick and knobby wrapped around my thigh. I tried to pry it away but it held firm. I beat it with a fist to no avail.

“Leave him!”

A thin, raspy voice shrieked above me and I turned my head wildly from side to side trying to find its source.

“Leave him now!”

The mysterious force pulling me further into the water suddenly halted, relaxing its grip on me. Taking advantage of the pause I kicked away from whatever it was and freed myself. I rolled onto my stomach and clawed my way out of the water and kept crawling until I was well away from the shore and whatever the hell it was that had grabbed me!

I rolled onto my back, panting hard and trying to steady the jack hammering of my heart. My eyes were wide with terror and panic as I searched everywhere for the source of the voice.

It took me a few minutes before discovering an emaciated, stooped figure in a ripped, grey cape and stained linen trousers. It stood in the shadow of a tree and I could barely tell one from the other until it turned to face me.

I steadied my breath and struggled to my still quivering knees.

“Who are you? What was that?”

I pointed at the water, noticing for the first time that the strange glow had disappeared.

“I have no name: I simply am.”

“What does that mean? Everyone has a name.”

I climbed onto unsteady feet as the figure moved away from the tree towards me. The figure I saw was shriveled with leathery, spotted dark skin and had no hair. Its head and chest were a disgusting mass of scabs, burns and scars that reminded me more of bark than skin.

I stumbled backwards a step, not wanting to be anywhere near it. I turned my head, revulsion overtaking me and retched onto the ground. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and pointed a trembling finger at the water.

“What the hell was that?”

“Not what, who.” The raspy voice whispered harshly.

“What do you mean, who? That thing wasn’t any person or animal I’ve ever seen! And who are you? You must have a name.”

The figure shook its head.

“I am of someone's conjuring. You need not know any more.”

I shook my head.

“That makes no sense.”

“And yet here I am talking to you.” The thing turned and pointed towards the water. “Those spirits, they are drawn to you.”

“What are they? Who are they?”

“The Dead.”

A spotlight bathed the lawn where I lay in a harsh bright light.

The thing disappeared into the shadows with an angry hiss. I stared into the darkness searching for it but to no avail, it was gone.

“Thomas?”

My Mom emerged from the front door, a double-barreled shotgun held in her arms as she walked around, spotted me and hurried over. I was soaked in muddy water almost to my waist and I noticed for the first time red scrapes from whatever had grabbed me around the legs.

“What happened? What are you doing out here? You know better than to come out here after dark!”

I nodded but avoided mentioning the figure.

“I saw something in the water and I fell in, that’s all. I was just clumsy.”

“Come inside and tell me about it.”

“Really, it was just something glow…”

“Tsst!”

The sudden hiss shocked me into silence and she held a finger against my lips.

“Do not speak of it out here! We must go inside right now!”

Curious, I followed her into the house: an odd feeling I’d stumbled onto some secret my Mom already knew about. She led me inside, then stopped and removed a large mirror from a wall and placed it outside beside the door.

I knew well the Cajun superstition of placing the mirror against the front door to ward off the Devil and his evil spirits and seeing her doing it right now made me shudder.

What the hell was going on?

We sat opposite each other at the kitchen table and I waited for her to start. When she made no effort I explained what had happened, including the conversation with that thing in the cape. She was silent for a moment, deep in thought and I saw a tear forming in the corner of one eye.

“Mother, what aren’t you telling me? Something is going on and you know what it is.” She shook her head, too upset to speak and I pressed the issue. “Is this something to do with Uncle Hank? The new disappearances? What is it you’re not telling me?”

She stood up, not able to take anymore.

“We’re cursed, Thomas!” she pounded her fists onto the table with a sharp CRACK! “Someone has put a curse on our family! I don’t know who did it.”

“What about you?”

“You are Hank Jerrod’s only living blood relative. I married into the family. His son died last year and his grandson a few months later. You are all that’s left.”

My mind whirled at a dizzying rate and I held on to the table to steady myself.

This was too much to understand.

“How…how did you find out?”

“The Swamp Spirit told me.”

“The Swamp Spirit? You mean that thing speaking to me?”

She nodded.

“It controls the curse.”

“So why did it stop?”

“Maybe it is too soon for you, maybe it wants you to suffer first.” She shook her head and sighed. “When they are trapped in the spirit world the Dead crave things. They crave to move on to the afterlife, whether it is Heaven or Hell, in which case they need to be discovered and given a proper farewell. The alternative is to be stuck where they are, in the Bayous and swamps until they are released.”

I thought about that for a moment.

“So maybe this…this Swamp Spirit wants me to find the bodies instead. Will that lift this curse or whatever it is instead?”

She shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

Something nagged at me.

“How did you know about this Spirit thing?” She shrugged, averted her eyes, and declined to answer. “I need to know!”

There was a sharp double-click and a cold realization hit me as she leveled the shotgun at my chest.

“What you need to know is this! My youngest sister was one of your Uncles victims! I’ve lived every day since he was shot under the veil of threats because of you and the others of his blood! It is time to end it once and for all!”

I stood up and took a step back around my seat and held my hands up in surrender.

“What are you talking about? How is that my fault?”

“I will never know peace unless you die. That is my curse.”

“Mother, wait…”

“No, the time for waiting is finally over. Now, walk out the front door and back to the water.”

“Back to the…no!”

The blast from the shotgun deafened me as it blew apart a cabinet to my left and I yelled and started to walk. She followed me out of the house and down to the edge of the water.

I looked out at the water and shuddered as I noticed the faint glow headed my way. I backed away from the edge but felt the barrel of the shotgun prod me forward again.

The familiar raspy hiss sent shivers up my spine.

“So, he knows?”

“He does.”

“Are you ready?”

“I am.”

I looked to see the creature standing a few feet away but now its eyes glowed red and it seemed taller than before. In one hand it held a cane, which was pointed at me.

It flicked towards the water and I felt my feet jerked out from under me and I fell onto my back with a thud. The air whooshed from my lungs and I felt something wrap around an ankle and begin to pull me across the grass. I looked up helplessly at my mother, who now stood next to the creature, her face so full of hate it terrified me even more than whatever I was in for.

I looked forward as I struggled to catch my breath and a glowing tower of water rose above me. I saw skulls inside it staring at me, mouths open. A blistering scream tore from them that threatened my sanity and I covered my ears and screwed my eyes shut.

Something splashed my face and I screamed in agony as my left hand was ripped away and landed with a spray on my chest! I grasped the stump with my other hand as my ears were assaulted by the cries and I felt my feet sink into the murky water.

More towers rose beside the first, glowing brilliantly as they drew closer. These contained faces that stared out at me, their wicked laughter added to the madness that surrounded me and filled my mind. As I watched, the original faces morphed into others then again in a horrific litany of death. Some faces had eyeballs hanging from their sockets, others had skin ripped away revealing the bone underneath

I screamed in terror as the final face revealed itself...Hank Jerrod, stared at me in a tooth, wicked grin before it was blown apart.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?”

Voices hisses back, their answers overlapping each other.

“Everything…”

“I DIDN’T DO THIS TO YOU!”

“…he did…”

The water now rose to my knees and I could feel the same something wrapping around my legs and give a great yank. Suddenly I was up to my waist and I half turned to find something to grab on to but there was nothing but the mysterious creature and my mother looking on with grim satisfaction.

“You told me the Dead just wanted to be released into the afterlife!”

“Yes, they do.” The creature laughed at me as it nodded. “But what the Dead crave above all other things is vengeance…”

I screamed as the watery much rose to my shoulders and neck I fought with my arms until they too were pinned tight to my sides. I blinked as I strained my neck back and held my breath.

Water blurred my vision.

Water filled my nose and I coughed.

The creature faded from view and my mother bent down to pick up my severed hand, then turned away.

Water filled my lungs as I closed my eyes…

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About the Creator

David Thomas

My name is David Thomas and I live in Upstate New York on a small micro farm. I retired from the US Army as a Staff Sergeant after 26 years of service as both an Infantryman and a Chaplain Assistant. It has always been my dream to write.

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