The Mine, a short horror story at on Great Bear Island


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Moving this here from general discussion

Hi all, I have been working on this story for the last few weeks, and it is still unfinished, and honestly a little rough around the edges.

However, I am going to post what I have right now as a little teaser for what's to come. Any feedback is appreciated, I hope you all enjoy!

 

The Mine   

          My father worked in a gold mine back in the 70's, it was nestled into the mountains, far from the closest settlements. From what I know there was a crew out there every summer for years, and according to my father, they had moved a lot of dirt and rock. Mother would always express her concerns of safety, "Please be safe my dear." she’d say before he’d leave for the season. My father was never around much during the summer because of the mine, he just worked, and worked. He spent weeks at a time there. Not hearing from him made mother worry a lot. Living in the area we did, and it being the 70’s, the only line of communication we had were landline phones. They didn’t reach the area where the mine was. When father was home, he would always appear burnt out, large bags were always under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days. He was also very quiet, and he kept to himself. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

          One winter, mothers biggest nightmare came true. Father, and the rest of the mining crew didn’t return home on the date they said they would return for the season, October 1st. Days passed, weeks, then months, they never came back. Being as isolated as we were on this secluded Canadian Island, word spread quickly among our small village. Being as it was the winter, it was much too dangerous to try to make the in good weather, days long trek to the mine. Very few even knew how to get there. We did a lot of praying that winter, almost every day it felt like. We held get-togethers in our community hall, sang songs in the church, and came together as the group of people we were. This wasn't enough for me though, the idea of my father still being out there drove me crazy. The emotions bottled up over that winter, I just needed to know what happened to him. I needed some sort of closure. One February night, I believe the 12th, I had had enough, the bottle exploded. I was going to get to that mine, even if it killed me.

          I remember that morning vividly. Tucked away in my fathers little shop room, I had found the spare map, of which he had drawn himself. It gave rough directions on how to get the mine. This map was crucial to me, as it marked out key locations, and areas to avoid. Not knowing the terrain was going to be my biggest challenge. With the map, I also packed four days worth of general supplies, first aid, and more importantly my revolver. The wildlife that time of year was nothing to scoff at, the wolves were hungry that time of year. Finally, I glanced over at my mothers room. I felt bad for leaving without saying goodbye, but I knew she would have convinced me to not go. I remember writing her a note, apologizing for leaving without saying goodbye, saying I’d be back within 5 days. I made sure to include an I love you. Being filled with adrenaline, I exited my house and started my truck. It sputtered to life, and I drove carefully to the outskirts of the village, where I was met with a climbing rope. A chill was sent down my spine when I saw vehicles that belonged to the other members of the mining crew. I exited my truck, and gathered my supplies from the bed of it. There was no turning back now. The rest of my trip would be on foot.

          Oh, being young and dumb. Mid February, it must have been -25 C out, the full force of winter screaming at my face. I scampered up the climbing rope with ease. I had made that climb before. The area the climbing took me to was familiar to me. I knew the terrain well, as I had been up to this area countless times, whether it was hunting, or climbing the large mountain that dominated the surrounding area. It had no name, but resembling the figure of a wolf, the locals called it Timberwolf Mountain. The map took me down into a ravine that I was unfamiliar with, I was deep into the bush now, and I had been walking for the majority of the day. I was starting to feel the cold, as I felt the feeling of my hands slip away. The map led me into a ravine I was unfamiliar with. Carved out by a frozen over river that sat in the middle, the ravine was large, at least 80 feet of rock wall surrounded me on each side. Eventually I came upon a small crevasse between two large boulders. I remember thinking to myself the hassle of getting to this damn mine, what could be there that's worth this trek? Then, I had also thought to myself the overall mystique of the mine itself. All these years, and nobody except for the crew had even been to the mine. Whenever mother would ask if all of us could go to the mine for the summer, father would always say no. He would come up with some excuse, whether that be lack of resources to sustain a family, or a “problem bear”. During that time, it felt like the majority of people outside of our community didn’t know about the mine. The idea of the mine began to pique my curiosity.

          It was a tight squeeze through the crevasse, but I managed to make it through. Soon, the ravine had faded away, and opened into a clearing. The quick nature of my departure earlier in the day was starting to bite me in the ass. I no longer could feel my hands, and soon I would lose feeling in my feet too. I glanced into the sky and saw the sun, setting below the horizon. Night was coming soon. I stumbled down a small hill, and was met with a vast frozen over swamp, peppered by scatters of trees. The trees had been burned, from the top down. Left, was a flat baron landscape with stubby trees, covered in ash. The map named this region “Ash Canyon'', it was fitting. I could have sat there and stared at this Ash Canyon for ages, but there was no time for that. If I didn’t find shelter, I would become hypothermic, and there would be no way for me to warm up. The map showed that there were three man made structures in the area, a large cabin set on the top of a cliff overlooking the region, which I was able to see from where I was standing. A fishing hut placed deep on the far side of the region, and another cabin, set directly in the center of the swamp. The map named it "The Intrusive Mans Retreat", which made me chuckle. Intrusive man, what a weird name. I made my way to the base of the cliff where the large cabin sat. I quickly found out that there was no way in sight to make my way up to the large cabin, so my only option was to find the “The Intrusive Men's Retreat”. I wandered in the general direction of it, eventually spotting it in the distance. Once I arrived, I could see that the cabin had been beaten and battered by the elements. There was no sign of anyone being home since the start of winter. At the time, I ignored that, being relieved with the idea of warmth. I approached the cabin, and was surprised to see that the door was wide open, snow was built up on the inside. Nonetheless, I let myself in, and started a fire inside the cabin's small cook stove.

          The inside of the cabin was small, just one large room. It was a mess, there sat an old torn bed, it was small, twin sized. There was also a bookshelf which had been pushed over, a cook stove which was my means of sight, and heaps of trash all over the floor. The cabin had a strong smell of routine flesh inside, perhaps an animal scampered in the walls and died recently. With the door being left wide open, anything could have wandered in and messed the place up. What caught my attention was a stack of notes, scraps of paper, and maps, which were tacked down to the bookshelf. I tipped the bed back onto its four legs, and sat on the edge, taking some time to read the contents of these papers under the light of the fire. They started off simple, recipes, fishing and hunting techniques, travel routes to get back to civilization, you know, the basic survival stuff. It would be needed in an area like this. As I kept reading, things started to get more cryptic. There was a map with red dots scattered around, signifying points of interest, they were all placed in what seemed to be random locations. Then, there was a note which shook me up, “Those men who claim they’re mining, I’m onto them. The sounds I hear at night, those groans and screams coming from the hills, it has to be something else. It’s as if they’ve opened hell's gate. I don’t know what's going on exactly, but I know for a fact it’s not mining.”, I took a double take, and reread it. The note conveyed an angry tone, and was dated July 23rd, 1972, which was over two years prior. Behind it the stack was another note, “Those bastards, lurking around my cabin at night, they’re trying to drive me away, they want me to leave. They even set the cabin on fire.” I remember the image of glancing up to the roof, and seeing the very obvious section that had been repaired. The note continued,“I’m sick of the noises late at night, I’m sick of being in fear. I’m going to go to that mine, I’m going to kill that beast they’re hiding from the world, I don’t care that they’re onto me.”, this note was dated September 18th, 1974. Chills ran down my spine, that would have been around the time father and the crew were beginning to prepare to leave.

          I just sat there on that bed, taking in the contents of those two notes. I didn’t know how to feel. The notes left many questions unanswered. Had the person that lived in this cabin been the reason for the disappearance of my father and the crew? What did they mean “beast”? I got an unclear answer. There was one last piece of paper, which had been scribbled on in dull and messy handwriting. I held it close to my face, “I think those men are at mutiny, I thought I could put an end to all this but this is something bigger than I can handle. We need the damn Canadian Army in here. It’s not safe here anymore, I am leaving this place. I can’t explain what I saw over there, all I know is I'm deeply terrified.”,the note appeared to have been written in a hurry, and it conveyed a feeling of dread. It was dated October 1st, 1974. A final chill sent down my spine, that was the day father was supposed to return. This confirmed to me at the time that my father was still at the mine the day he was supposed to return, but what had happened to him since? What had scared the owner of this cabin so bad that he left? “Beast” had popped into my head. The previous notes mentioned a beast, hidden away from the world. At the time that was the only real explanation I had. I only had these three little snapshots into the whole situation. That last note did not give me a good feeling, it was very obvious to me something was up at the mine. A mystery was starting to form. I just knew I needed to get out to that mine, I needed to see what was up.

          In a weird way, the notes did give me a sense of hope. At the time, I disregarded all the obvious warnings that the intrepid person before me left behind. I cared more about closure than my own well being. I set my sleeping bag onto the old bed, and cozied up. During the time I spent looking at the notes and papers, a storm had rolled in. The winds howled, making its own unique whistle against the old cabin. I wasn’t able to shake the idea of this beast, what did it mean? I thought to myself, maybe beast was a code word for something else, or maybe there was some beastly being roaming this valley. I frowned at that idea. Sure I loved a good bigfoot, or ghost story, but those were just stories, right? I psyched myself out that night. Through the one small window of the cabin, I would have swore something was watching me. I convinced myself that the flexing and groans that the old wood of the cabin made was something pressing up against the walls. I freaked myself out, to the point where I was not able to fall asleep until the storm started to die down. I think I only ended up getting three hours of sleep that night.          

         When I awoke, the storm had ended. In its place was a thick fog that coated the landscape. My fire had lasted the night, and with just the hot coals left, I was able to warm up tea, and some canned food I had packed. The tea eased my mind, and I was able to come back to reality. I needed to get to that mine, get the closure I was looking for. I ventured out of The Intrusive Mans Retreat, now knowing why they called him that. I made sure to keep my hand close to my revolver, I was still shaken up by those notes from the night prior. With the map pointing me in the general direction of the mine, I said goodbye to the dainty cabin, making sure the door was closed for the next traveler. The landscape was barren, and I kept a slow pace towards the general direction of where the map wanted me to go. As I trudged on further, I started to sense that I was being watched. I paused, and listened. I heard it, faint footsteps behind me, something on four legs. I drew my revolver, a .44 caliper, enough to take down a bear. I heard something snarling. I knew the sounds of the animals on the island, I immediately knew it was a wolf. From the fog emerged a wolf, like I had expected. It bored its teeth at me. I put my arms and legs out, and started yelling at it, slowly backing away at the same time. The wolf grunted at me, but seemed to be scared by my gesture as intended. I made a quick decision, a stupid one a that. I thought I was in the clear, so I turned my back to the wolf. Big mistake, once I turned my back to the wolf, it charged at me. The second I heard it charging I looked behind and tried to draw my revolver, but the wolf was too fast, it pounced on me. It knocked my revolver out of my hand. I hit the ground hard, and the wolf attempted to bite down on my face, its claws digging into my chest and ripping my coat. Even with the wind knocked out of me, I used all my strength to kick it off. Through fully just willpower, I kicked it off. It landed on the ground, stunned. I dashed towards my revolver, but tripped in the process. I landed inches away from it, and the second I inched towards it an immense force hit me on my back. The wolf had jumped onto me. Dodging its jaws, I was able to finally retrieve my pistol. As I grabbed the gun, the wolf finally was able to bite me, right on my shoulder. I tensed up, squeezing my finger onto the trigger in the process, sending a shot into the air. The wolf yelps, being scared of the loud shot, and jumps off me. I was able to get to my feet, and face the wolf, who was now running in the opposite direction of me. I winced in pain, the wolf had destroyed my coat, and I could feel the blood oozing from my shoulder. 

          Idiot I breathed to myself, angry at the dumb mistake I had made that led to this. Quickly I retrieved the antiseptic I had in my pack, quickly taking off my four layers to expose the wound on my shoulder. The cold air stung against my skin, but I needed to pour the antiseptic over the wound. I closed my eyes as it hit the wound, a stinging pain followed. I looked down to my stomach, where I saw two puncture wounds from the wolves claws. I was very lucky they had not punctured my vitals. I rubbed antiseptic over the wounds on my stomach, and thoroughly bandaged both areas the best I could. The wounds didn’t feel good, they put me in a lot of discomfort. Once I regained my bearings, and put my clothes back on, I was able to continue on. The attack left me low on energy, so I ended up downing a large portion of my food. I continued walking, the fog starting to fade. I finally fully regained my surroundings, and was glad to find out I was only slightly off track of where I was supposed to be going. I pointed myself in the right direction, and within the next hour, I had made it to the next obstacle. The final push to make it to the mine was two large rope climbs. With my wounds, it was going to be painful, but I knew I had to do it. I was determined to make it to that mine.

          I grabbed the rope, and glanced up at the 50 foot climb ahead of me. If it were just a single 50 foot climb, I would have been okay, the problem being of course there were two 50 foot climbs. I had been mountaineering my whole life, and I had done much larger climbs, however with the radiating pain in my shoulder and stomach, I knew this was risky. Suddenly, a rotten smell filled the air, the smell of death. It smelled the exact same as the cabin. I gagged, and looked around, expecting to see the corpse of an animal, or something along those lines. I couldn’t see anything, so now filled with the desire to escape the smell I started the climb up the icey rope. As I went up I realized how quiet things were, throughout the day I heard birds, wind, the sounds of nature. At that moment, it was completely silent though. I made it halfway up the climb with relative ease, but the smell just kept getting worse. Suddenly, I noticed a faint sound from below me, it sounded like the cracking of bones. I freaked out, as the rope started to shake. Something was trying to literally shake me off the rope. I slipped down the rope a few feet. Once I regained my grip, I looked below and screamed. Below me stood the most horrible thing I had ever seen. Its red beady eyes stared up at me. It began violently shaking the rope, and one of my hands lost grip of the rope. A stab of pain came from my shoulder, and I gritted my teeth in pain. With my now free hand I was able to quickly grab the knife hollister at my waist. I quickly started to cut at the rope in sheer panic. The thing below me started to climb up the rope, it’s muscular build making quick work of the rope, closing the distance on me in seconds. Its mouth foamed, and with every move it made a disgusting cracking sound followed, as if its bones were breaking. My knife was just about to cut through the rope when it finally made it to me, it reached out its hand to grab me. With whatever strength I had left, I kicked it in the face, stopping it in its tracks for a second. I yelled in terror, the rope finally cutting in half. The creature fell 20 feet at least, making a loud thud when it hit the ground. Filled with adrenaline and fear, I heaved my way up the rest of the rope, my whole body trembling the way up. I reached the top of the climb, and quickly looked back down to see that that thing was gone, leaving only an impact spot in the snow where it had hit the ground. 

I thought to myself, what in god's name was that. I just stood there at the top of the climb, frozen in fear. I could feel my heartbeat in my neck, and forehead. That thing was nothing I had ever seen in my life, it was something unknown to science. I was mortified by how fast it was able to climb up the rope, climbing what took me multiple minutes, only a few seconds, and its claws. Its claws had to have been at least six inches long. They looked like daggers. It had the build of a man, but had the features of a wild animal. I remember its muscles, they were huge. Without a doubt enough to crush anything in its path. Its teeth were sharp, and long. The thing had the horns of an elk. I wasn’t able to get the image of its face out of my head. The grin it had on its face, it looked like it knew it was terrifying me. It had red eyes, eyes of pure evil. It was a creature that looked designed to be a killing machine, it was a monster. It was the beast, the beast I had heard about last night. The beast that chased the intrusive man away, the reason for my fathers disappearance.

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