"The Legacy of Paine"

In the 10 years that followed the unexplained events at the Evergreen Funeral home, a supernatural haze seemed to hover over the downtown area of Gallatin. The town elders, fearing the possibility of the city drifting into obscurity, secretly met to try and put an end to the evil that seemed to hang over the town like a foreboding cloud of horror.

Present at this closed session of town leaders was Wallace Durham, a scholar, historian and a man that could possibly provide council in which way to turn. Wallace had a colleague from his studies abroad, a professor who possessed knowledge of the supernatural and an understanding of the dark things that most never spoke of. Sir Alexander Cushing, an English nobleman of Scottish descent was brought to Gallatin to investigate the building and probe the long since boarded up Lackey Cave system that catacombs beneath the city.

Alexander Cushing arrived from England on October 29th, within month of being summoned by Gallatin's town elders. Met at the train station under the veil of darkness that a moonless night brought, the men whisked Prof. Cushing away to a midnight briefing at the courthouse, located directly across the street from the Evergreen Funeral Home. They explained the tragedies befallen funeral director Warren Ackerman and the subsequent horrors that took place in the building. Many spoke in whispers of the evil that lurked within the accursed dwelling and in the dark caves below.

Prof. Cushing, unfazed by these revelations, wasted no time in setting up his research laboratory within the Evergreen itself. Knowing that the source of darkness lie within the catacombs of Lackey Cave, the next night Alexander took the condemned elevator to the cellar. As the doors opened the stench of old death filled his nostrils. A man of great faith he proceeded into every crevice and opening without fear or trepidation.

An unearthly cold enveloped him as he rounded a corner and found himself in what had to be a cavern beneath the town cemetery. Ancient coffins had sunk from above and their contents were strewn about the cave floor. A water source had seemingly created a macabre fountain among the randomly placed skulls. This was no place for the living to tread…ever. Pushing forward he spied an old trunk, padlocked and almost obscured by the debris of rotted corpses. His mission after all was to find answers and why would a padlocked trunk be in this God Forsaken place. Taking tools from his bag he broke the chain and opened the coffin like crate. Inside he found nothing but a small diary.

Carefully opening the book he noted the date of October 5, 1863 and the name Edward King. He read the following.

"I, Edward King, leave this documentation so that the evil which has grasped our town otherwise might not ever be spoken of. The Dark figures we have all seen dwelling in the shadows at General Paine's executions have grown in number and I fear the worst."

Sir Cushing knew of this General Paine, a Union officer who was "Ruler" over Gallatin during the Civil War. A tyrant who executed men and boys without trial and those who were held would be allowed to escape on lame horses so he could enjoy the thrill of the hunt. The taking of confederate life was no more than sport to this man. Not more than reprimanded by Congressional inquiry after the war, no citizen from Gallatin was allowed to testify against him. A diary kept by a young girl named Alice Williamson gave insight to the events but this new found ledger went deeper.

As Prof. Cushing turned the pages, revelations of evil grew. Entire families disappeared never to be seen again. In January of 1864, a body was found on Franklin Street off the town square. Young Cynthia Lewis had her throat completely torn out yet not a drop of blood was to be found. Several citizens spoke in whispers that she was later seen in the twilight roaming the streets and scratching on windows for "food."

The diary continued.

"April 1864, General Eleazar A. Paine is being transferred! The lap-dog of Satan is finally leaving our once fair city. But I fear his grip will remain. He has made it know among our town elders that his "Dark Soldiers" have been sealed away and if ever a word is spoken of the events during his reign in Gallatin they would be loosed upon the city once more." Alexander knew this was the answer. If the evil was sealed away and not destroyed it would only fester and grow in power, power fueled by the thirst for revenge and the thirst for..... Alexander's own words caught in his throat.

The light from his lantern caught a glimpse of reflection across the cavern. Hidden beneath earth and roots a padlock barely visible beaconed to him. Moving the dirt and undergrowth a chained crypt door was exposed. Alexander knew in his spirit that this was the heart of the darkness and he surely was standing at the very gates of Hell. He opened his bag and pulled out a crucifix.

Alone, it was nothing more than a religious artifact , but wielded in the hand of a man of faith it was a weapon which knew no equal. The chains were broken and the door slowly opened. The stench was overwhelming and the silence deafening. Then without warning a hand reached out of the darkness for his throat. Slamming the cross on the creature's arm, it recoiled with a scream that echoed into the very pits of Hell. The gnashing teeth and glowing red eyes once again lunged forward but this time the creature was not alone. From every corner they came, hell spawn creatures dressed in black cloaks, the females in black veils, clawing their way toward Alexander. With supernatural speed, he backed away and slammed the door causing the decrepit earth to cave in around the unholy sanctuary. A sigh of relief was breathed until it dawned on him that the door was not sealed!

At that instant he could hear the digging, like rats leaving a sinking ship, they were clawing their way out. Alexander knew that he was outnumbered; the shear number of these creatures made the task of destroying them alone impossible. He ran. He had to reach the surface and hope that the light of day would buy the time needed to reinforce his mission. He ran into dead end after dead end, all the while the sound of the creatures grew closer.

Finally the elevator was visible and he made his way to it. As the doors were closing, clawed hands reached in to try and pry them open. Holy water that Alexander kept in a vile around his neck became his weapon and he quickly threw it against the door. The burning stench of long rotted flesh permeated through the small closet-like elevator. The cables were engaged and the condemned lift rose to the main floor. Wasting no time he severed the lines and the elevator went crashing below. Once again the screams of the undead filled the accursed funeral home. Making his way to the front of the building the only way to see the world outside was a small window above the door lentil. The sun had not yet risen!

The town elders had locked the door from the outside as to not arouse suspicion among the townsfolk, but because of it, Alexander was now trapped! He quickly grabbed his movie camera that was used for the documentation of his experiments and turned it on himself. He told of what he had found and what now must be done to eradicate the town of this shadow of evil. He glanced at the window above the door and the soft glow of an approaching sunrise gave him a sigh of relief. He fell back in his chair exhausted from the events of the night.

He barely felt the fangs as they sank deep into his neck. The approaching figures with blazon red eyes and gnashing teeth were the last things he saw as his blood was slowly drained away.

Few have ever ventured into the building since and those who have were never heard from again. But sometimes on moonless nights you can hear the whispers beckoning from the dark shadows.

Pray, do not answer their plea for you too might never see another sunrise!