Legend of the Big Horn Phantom

[milktoaste]

Sort of a mix of Windigo and two or three ghost stories we've all already heard. I dreamed of this kid two weeks ago and felt compelled to write a story about him. Sorry Doctor F., but this one is sort of an 'around the campfire story', so it's full of your favorite 'E' word. It's only 833 words, still a far cry from 200 but I'm getting there, enjoy.

Legend of the Big Horn Phantom
Charles J. Hannah

There is a large section of the Big Horn mountain range in Wyoming that to this day remains off limits to recreational hikers, skiers and campers. There are an unusual number of deaths on this six square mile patch near the mountains peek. And the large predator population there makes retrieval of stranded and injured people a very hasty task. Legend has it; the first to fall victim to this cursed section of mountain was a father and his young son.

The search party members who found the boy could not explain how he was able to traverse the deep mountain snow at all, much less how he had survived for so many days all alone. When they did finally catch up to him they discovered the child’s arms, legs and face were covered in large purplish blood-filled blisters and a horrible infection had already begun to take hold. Each reported that despite the fact that the boy’s eyes had long been burned by the sheer winds, the boy carried on as if guided by an invisible hand.

When they arrived at the hospital at the bottom of the mountain, the search party told tales of ‘strange’ happenings during their return trip. They told of strange voices in the wind and shadowy figures darting between the trees and boulders.

Doctors were unable to stop the infection, and were forced to amputate the boy’s arms and legs at the elbows and knees. His ears, nose, and eyes were also burned beyond saving. When he woke from his surgery the boy experienced phantom pains where his limbs once were, they were so bad the child would continuously scream and soon was placed in a barbiturate-induced coma.

He lay motionless, all alone in a stark white room, on crisp white sheets. All parts of his body not covered by his hospital gown was wrapped in fresh white bandages, occasional deep red spots would continue to seep through. He was always alone, this boy whose father had gone up the mountain with him days before, this boy whose father was found less fortunate even than he, body scattered by local predators.

None of the other patients would share the room with the boy for long. Every morning they would claim to have seen objects around the boy move as if by his hand. ‘Get Well’ balloons would bob at the end of their strings above the sleeping boy and often the cards and flowers brought in by nurses would be found strewn across the room. The last patient to brave the room claimed to have been shook awake by a man’s hand, even though he was alone in the room with the sleeping child.

One day soon after a large blizzard blew in burying the entire area in feet of snow. During the commotion of the storm, the quiet young patient’s barbiturate feeding IV had somehow been removed, and slowly he began to wake.

It was not until the child’s frantic screams pierced the halls did the nurses run to his aid, only to find the door mysteriously held shut. Through the small window in the door the nurses saw the boy sitting up in bed, still screaming he hung his thighs over the edge of the bed and flung himself to the floor. Only he didn’t quite hit the floor, as if he landed on his hands and knees he hovered just above the bleached white tiles. His bandaged face turned up as if to stare straight back through the window at the nurses.

At that very moment the storm knocked out power to the hospital, and the once brilliantly white room went pitch black for many long seconds before the backup generators kicked in; screams still spilling into the hall.

All of the nurses present confirmed each other’s story of what they saw when the lights came back on in that room. The child’s bandaged face was only a couple of feet away from the window; his body was floating upright as if the boy was walking on elongated invisible legs. He had been ‘walking’ towards them and froze when the lights turned back on, still staring through the window at them, still screaming in pain. Each of the nurses turned and ran.

The child’s cries were silenced by the sound of the large window opposite the door shattering. From that moment on, the room was empty. Large footprints were found outside in the snow beneath the room, men tried to follow the tracks but they were quickly covered over by the blowing winds and snow.

Days later the coroner released the father’s autopsy report. The report stated that two distinct bite patterns were found. One was of the grey wolf, a common local predator; the other was of an adolescent human. The strangest part was the time of the bites in comparison to the time of death. Only the wolves’ bite marks occurred after the man had died.

[Doc Faustus]

This is cool. It's sparse and reads more like found folklore than fiction.

[milktoaste]

Thanks Doc, you know, I wouldn't care if you were the only one reading these, I'd keep on writing them. I am already planning a revision, any advice is welcome and appreciated as always but if I say it'll be here in a week it'll take me two.