Archive for August 9, 2025
UNHOLY GROUND, A HORROR SHORT STORY, CHAPTER IX
UNHOLY GROUND
THE BARN
Moonlight illuminated the night. A full moon hovered over the rolling Pennsylvania hills as Chris and Junior snuck out of their houses to carry out Chris’ artistic callings. As Chris made his way down the road, he could see Junior up ahead. Finding the barn by daylight was difficult enough, at night, if Chris was alone, it would be impossible.
“How’s it going, Junior? Ready to do a little painting?”
“I’m telling you, Chris, this is not a good idea.”
Junior could see the determination in his friend’s eyes. Armed with five cans of spray paint and flashlights, they made their way down the dirt road toward the barn.
Initially, the boys let the moonlight guide them. Crickets filled the night with their song, joined by the occasional frog. When they were farther along, they illuminated the forest to their right with their flashlights. Chris knew it would be difficult to find where the path branched off the road. Junior told him, “There are two tall maple trees, one on either side of the path. Keep a lookout for those trees.”
The walk seemed longer than the last time to Chris. Maybe it was the night or maybe it was doing something that Junior and old-man Alexander warned him against.
Junior found the two maples. Now their flashlights have become a necessity. The dense forest blocked the moonlight just as it did the sun. The nighttime forest had an intensified air of mystery, more sinister than during the day. The soft rustlings on either side of the path only served to increase the sense of dread. More than once, Chris considered turning back. But he could not, would not give in to the seeds of fear planted by the locals. As he walked next to Junior, he sensed a tension in the forest, something he had not felt during his daytime visit. He also knew Junior was terrified. At one point his friend was actually whimpering. Then the boys thought they heard distant voices.
“You hear that, Chris? Let’s turn back.”
Chris shoved him in the back. “Keep going,” he said.
Up ahead, Chris saw a moonlit area through the trees. He knew he was approaching the clearing and the barn. The boys stepped out of the forest.
Chris walked up to the barn. Junior hung behind shaking with fear. From his backpack, Chris produced cans of spray paint and began to deface one side of the wooden structure. He laughed as he painted his name in outlandish letters and added a multitude of designs. The painting went on until the cans ran dry.
He turned to Junior. “Now that is what I call art.”
Junior’s response was, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
* * *
For the next week all Chris could think about was how great it felt to spread his graffiti over the white walls of the barn. With the image of the three remaining virgin walls in his mind, he decided to purchase more paint and complete the project. He approached Junior and asked, “What do you say we decorate the barn a little more? I’ll let you share bragging rights when we go back to school. I’ll meet you tonight.” Chris turned, not giving Junior a chance to reply.
The boys met on the road. This time the moon was only a sliver, and they had to use their flashlights much earlier.
“This will be awesome,” Chris told Junior. He could see his friend shaking with fear while he experienced an adrenaline rush.
The boys made it to the clearing and the barn. Junior elected to remain amongst the trees while Chris approached the barn. “Shit, what the hell?” Chris said. He looked in disbelief. There wasn’t a sign of the painting he had done. The wall of the barn glowed a pristine white.
Then he heard voices coming from within. He could see blood-red light through the joints in the wall. He wanted to confront whoever spoiled his artwork. Something was taking place in the lower confines of the building. Suddenly, the place just didn’t feel right. Chris’ courage dissolved in a need for flight. That’s when his eye caught a figure standing before him where none had been a moment ago.
It was a boy dressed in an odd costume – old fashioned. Even more peculiar was that the boy glowed from within.
“My name is Thomas Young. My family and I have been waiting for a visitor, someone to help us protect this ground”
Junior shouted, “Chris, run!” But Chris was frozen to the spot.
The boy continued, “I welcome you to the land of the Ancients. You have angered them, and it is with them that you will dwell forever.”
The glowing youth stepped closer. Soon the boys stood face to face. As Chris stood stark still, the boy took another step and went through Chris. He suddenly felt cold; falling to the ground he underwent the conversion to a sentry of the Ancients.
“You are one of us now. You will dwell in this barn and guard the land. To leave this clearing is to enter oblivion.” Thomas turned and walked through the barn wall.
Chris stood alone in the moonlight, unable to comprehend what had happened. He looked toward the welcoming forest, and in an instant, felt the loss of his life and his future, feared the existence that awaited him.
Junior ran back into the forest, never to enter the territory of the Ancients again.
* * *
Junior never told anyone about the incident at the barn, even when the police questioned him about his friend’s disappearance. Never said a word until one day his grandson asked, “Gramps, do you know about the haunted barn?
THE END
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