The Valley

[jordanator]

This is my first attempt at a story, so critisism and/or questions are welcome.

 

 

The Valley

Let me tell you my story.

 

My story is not a story of a "great sacrifice," or "heroic deeds."

 

My story is a story I always regret.

 

A story of revenge. Of anger. Of death.

 

Of undeath.

 

_________________________

 

 

 

My mother was packing her things for our camping trip.

 

She looked up at me and smiled.

 

"Did you finish packing yet?" She asked, still smiling.

 

Her smile always made me feel better. It still does, sometimes. It's one of the few memories I want to keep.

 

"Yep, I think I got everything. Need any help?" I asked ever so happily. I was such a happy person. Was.

 

My mother looked back at her camouflage camping bag.

 

"Yes, actually. Could you go get the three flashlights, please?" She asked.

 

"I actually already packed them for you." I said with a bit of pride.

 

My mother looked up again with a smile.

 

"Well thank you. I'll just have to--" She stopped smiling.

 

I was a little confused at first, but then I felt as if something evil were approaching me.

 

I whirled around to see my father glaring at me.

 

"Go get them." He said angrily.

 

"Go get what?" I asked, trying not to focus on how scared I was.

 

"Don't act stupid. The flashlights! Go get them. Now!" He yelled.

 

I hated him. He hated me. He loved my mother, but he just hated me. He was part of some cult, but he tried to keep it a secret. I found out by looking in his closet. He had a robe, dagger, and enough syringes to keep a drug addict happy for two lifetimes.

 

"I-I already packed them." I said, trembling.

 

My father's face got red with extreme anger.

 

"Kevin, do what your father says." My mother said, trying to keep my father from yelling. At least I knew she loved me.

 

That was my name. Kevin. I can't remember my mother's name, and I don't want to remember my father's name.

 

I went to my room and got the flash lights. I heard my father yelling. My mother said something softly, and my father stopped yelling.

 

For the next few hours I stayed out of my father's way, and then we left.

 

The trip was long and quiet. We finally got to a valley, where my mother and father set up camp. I was not to be in any part of their activities, according to my father.

 

That valley was the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Blue flowers were everywhere. In the center of the valley there was a massive tree, which I climbed numerous times. Mostly to get away from my father.

 

That camping trip was supposed to be the best week ever. As you can imagine, it wasn't.

 

That first night we were there, I heard something climbing the tree. It, of course, has to be a raccoon. Right?

 

We sat around the campfire while my mother and father had a drink. My mother falls. My father sits there like nothing happened. At least five people fall from the tree, hanging from nooses. Three more people fall. They were in brown robes. My father still sits there. I run to hide. A man hits my father on the back of the head with a large stick. They approach my mother. I run at them, yelling, screaming, punching, kicking, and biting. I didn't last long. They pulled a syringe out of my father's pocket, injected it into my father, and then knocked me out.

 

That's what I remember of that night.

 

I woke up in a bed next to my father. They were putting his blood into me. A doctor walked by me with a clipboard. It said "week 41."

 

It couldn't have been that long, could it?

 

I looked over to see that my father was dead. I stopped hating him for only a moment. I looked everywhere to find my mother, but she was nowhere.

 

Then I heard a scream that would put pain into the heart of the strongest man alive. It was from my mother. She was in the other room. I only I wasn't strapped to that bed...

 

The screaming stopped. I saw two doctors look at each other and smile.

 

"Our turn." One of them said, and they walked into the other room.

 

They were wearing brown robes. I looked over at my father's corpse, and he was wearing brown robes.

 

This was his cult. This was his fault.

 

I blacked out, only to the sound of a shrill, drawn out beeping noise. I knew what it was, though. It was someone's heart rate that just stopped.

 

I looked over, and no one was there. It was mine. I was alive, though.

 

Doctors came from all directions, yelling, screaming, and cursing at each other.

 

"What happened?"

 

"Did it work?"

 

"What the hell happened?"

 

Everyone was talking. Then everyone stopped and stared at me.

 

"Kevin, can you hear us?" one doctor asked.

 

I couldn't think of what to say. I couldn't express my hate.

 

"He's not talking." Someone said.

 

"We should teach him a lesson." Another said.

 

They rolled my bed into the room. I saw my mother, stripped and hanging from her limbs, her long hair gone, and her eyes blindfolded. My heart sunk as I realized what they were doing to her. They made me watch. Her screams and pleas had no effect on the cruel, disgusting cultists. I cannot describe the pain my heart felt. I cannot describe my hate for these cultists.

 

One man walked up to me, naked, with a fiendish smile on his face. He reached for me. I bit his hand and drew blood. My vision reddened, then darkened, then I blacked out.

 

I woke up to an empty room, with only me and my mother. She was untied, clothed, and her hair was even back. My father walked in the room and hugged me. They both left the room.

 

-A scream.

 

"NO!"

 

I found myself standing in the same room, but the room was not empty. Piles of organs and puddles of blood were everywhere. There was one corpse. My mother's. Her stomach was torn open. I looked down. My hands and shirt were covered in blood. I killed her.

 

I screamed. I sobbed. I sat in a corner for at least a day.

 

I then saw a dark window I've never noticed before, in another room, which I could see my reflection in. I had blood all over my mouth and face.

 

Did I…eat these people?

 

"Keeeevviiiiiinnnn" someone said.

 

My reflection grew fangs…

 

"Keeeevviiiiiinnnn" someone said again.

 

Those fangs weren't part of the reflection. Two big yellow eyes opened on the other side of the dark window.

 

I ran faster than I have ever ran before, trying to find an exit. I looked back, and saw a door open.

 

"Keeeevviiiiiinnnn"

 

I found the exit. I ran outside, I could see the big tree in the valley.

 

I found a safe place to hide behind some rocks near a stream. I stayed there for a week, just sitting there. Scared, unmoving, and crying. I knew I was safe, at least for a little while.

 

"Keeeevviiiiiinnnn"

 

It came from behind me.

[jordanator]

By the way, if a decent number of people would like to see the story go on, I was thinking about telling it in other characters' views.

Tell me what you think!

[Herculine]

I would find it very interesting to see how you would write a story from multiple perspectives. Sounds very cool!

[Alastair91]

Not bad, I would like the story to go on.