sample story page: "Black Vineyard"

Black Vineyard

J. Steve Gray

Ven Kellar sat in a slightly reclined position at the table. His bulky frame just about dwarfed the chair in which he sat. He stared steadfast at the interesting necklace of assorted jewels and animal’s teeth, which draped around the neck of his host.

Mr. Noka, the village minister sat directly across from Ven, who was soaking in subconsciously, the dark details and foreboding overtone of the small room. The table, from what Ven could imagine, was probably crafted sometime in the eighteen hundreds. It was riddled with elaborate carvings and swirled etchings that simply were not seen in these present times. A smoky, burgundy tinted glass oil lantern sat in the center of a tattered cloth place mat. The yellow flame was the room’s only light source. It swayed and leaned from left to right as it sent it’s light through the reddish colored glass showering all four walls with it’s somber glow.

A house servant requested permission to enter the dimly lit room in his native African tongue. “Come in Hakeema.” The host commanded. The Negro entered the room holding a tarnished silver tray with two shot glasses and a well-aged bottle of high priced liquor set upon it. Ven noticed that the tray upon which the glasses and bottle sat was also a probable costly antique with artistic etchings of a master smith. “Thank you Hakeema, if I need you again I shall beckon.” The servant nodded as he turned to leave.

“How long have you been in the village of Black Vineyard?” Mr. Noka inquired. Ven leaned forward to take the shot glass of bourbon that Mr. Noka just poured for him. He rubbed his forehead as he answered. “Well, Noka about eight months.” “Then you must know the reason as to why I’ve summoned you.” Mr. Noka stated. “Well, anytime anyone ever summons me, the reason is for need of my big game hunting skills.” Ven replied. “I can only assume that you’re in need of them as well, perhaps something is menacing your village.” He continued to assume where the conversation would go.

“Jungle cats, Wolves, reptilian predators, am I correct?” he asked, “Mr. Kellar, you are indeed correct about those things.” Mr. Noka said. “It’s is in a dire urgency that I plead for your prowess as a skilled hunter, and that my village has come under attack.” There was a brief silence. “But even if you were to combine all the creatures that you’ve mentioned, cat, wolf, reptile… I’m afraid that the result would in no way compare to the evil menace that plagues my people.”

“I see, I think…” Ven replied cynically. “What is it”? He asked, “I’m without an answer Mr. Kellar, of course anyone who has encountered it has died a violent death.” Mr. Noka took the bottle to pour him another shot as he grasped for a way to describe the horrible dilemma that faced his people. “The terror began, I would have to say a little over seven months ago, when two of the most tactful, talented hunters in the village began to discover the dismembered remains of animals.” Ven listened intently as he swallowed even another shot. “Sadly, a lot of the remains they found were of animals that richly fed our community. The hunters began to set traps in various locations in the surrounding jungle in an attempt to capture whatever or.... whoever was responsible for this waste. But turned up nothing.” “Nothing”? Ven asked. “No.” Mr. Noka replied. “Instead, the findings became much more grisly…” Mr. Noka paused and looked at Ven with eyes that were desperate.

Ven gazed back into Mr.Noka’s eyes and his own mind froze and became deafened by the searing screams for help that appeared to echo from the look of Noka. “Mr. Kellar.” He muttered. “Believe me when I say that no price you may give me for your valuable service could be too great, nor can my gratitude and appreciation for your agreement to help us.” “I understand.” Ven replied.

“Now you say that the findings became more grisly?” He asked. Mr. Noka slowly looked away and his gaze rested upon a shelf of musty books and tribal trinkets. He stared at wooden bookend statuettes at each end of the shelf as they were barely lit by the lanterns illumination. The statuette likenesses were of snarling baboons or orangutan type creatures. It was apparent that the sculptor of whom chiseled them into creation paid extreme attention to the detail of these works, down to the many facial wrinkles and razor like teeth. “Shortly after the hunters discovered all the mutilated animals…” Noka continued, “Three of our village women were found by the river partially devoured.” Ven’s eyebrows rose a little at this bit of information. “They were apparently washing clothing and went as three for the sake of safety. After a day they didn’t return and a search party was sent to find them…” Mr. Noka looked somber. “My wife was among the three”.

Ven sat quiet only for a few seconds before tipping the bottom of his shot glass upward. He downed the liquor and placed the glass on the table. With his left forearm, he swiped his mouth wiping the remnants of the hooch he’d just swallowed and leaned back in his chair. His gaze never strayed from Mr. Noka, and Mr. Noka’s gaze never strayed from Ven.

Ven’s usual erect stature fell into a slump with shoulders slouching forward as the influence of the liquor took its effect. “Mr. Kellar?” Mr. Noka spoke with concern usually only displayed by a mother inquiring of her ill child. “I’m fine.” Ven replied. “ I’ll give you all the help within my capacity.” Mr. Noka’s expression transformed from one of the utmost desperation to one of orgasmic relief. His head dropped downward and its movement resembled that of a tennis ball dangling on a string. He spoke to Ven even with his head hanging down. “Mr. Kellar, Mr. Kellar.” “Never mind about it all Noka.” Ven interrupted. “I’ll require a few things of you in order to do this.” “Anything you need of me Mr. Kellar, Just say it and you shall have it.” Mr. Noka stated pleasingly. “I’ll need two of your village’s best warriors and… there is the most important thing.” A look came over Vens’ face as if he were a doctor relaying to a patient that they were terminal. “As much hatred as you may harbor for this terrible creature, you might as well want to acquire something from it as a trophy, you know, something to signify the deliverance of your village from it’s terror.” “What are you saying Mr. Kellar?” asked Mr. Noka with a look of bewilderment.” “As a big game hunter, its’ a ritual of mine to take any and all possession of a kill for the adornment of my personal collection…Therefore” “Say no more Mr. Kellar. I understand fully!”

I’d be happier if I knew that every trace of this monster were gone.” Mr. Noka interjected. “Tomorrow night we’ll begin the hunt, as the moon will be an excellent source of light.” Ven stated. “The time is now to rest as much as can be hoped for.” Mr. Noka said, “My servant will escort you to your quarters Mr. Kellar” Ven struggled to remove himself from his seat. He tried not to stand up too quickly as to defy the alcohol in his bulky system to put him down like a tranquilized elephant.

As both men rose to their feet, Mr. Noka opened the door to the room to command his servant.” Hakeema, show Mr. Kellar to his room.” The servant nodded and led Ven down a narrow hallway of which was laden with numerous, extremely colorful native masks and assorted weapons common of the tribe. As Ven and Mr. Noka’s servant rounded the corner out of sight, Mr. Noka stood in the doorway of the room propping one arm on the jamb. He felt his heart beating as he again dropped his head downward. “By the grace of the almighty one, shall we be delivered from this evil, Amen.” Noka prayed.

The next day was uneventful aside from Ven and Noka organizing the coming nights’ hunting regime and plans, Ven’s arsenal wasn’t of the usual big game hunter, for instance, instead of rifles used for most animals of considerable size, Ven possessed a medium sized single shot rifle, which was odd once one became educated about Ven’s reputation as a hunter. His other weapon of choice was a compound bow and arrows. He kept his arrows tied tightly together and shoved into a leather quiver, which was obviously crafted from an animal hide, perhaps a caribou. When tied together, the arrows resembled a large black cylinder with a “Bed of Nails” at the top.

“Mr. Kellar, I regret that I can only summons one of my warriors to accompany you, therefore, I shall go with you as well.” Mr. Noka said. As Ven loaded a bullet belt with rounds from a tattered wooden box, he looked at Mr. Noka, who was already attired in warrior’s vesture. His clothing revealed his chiseled features as well as several scars. (Possibly from previous battles) his right hand gripped a tall, weathered spear, which rested on his shoulder. This spear was also possibly utilized in previous battles.

 “Sun will be going down soon, then it will be time to embark.” Ven said. Mr. Noka and his warrior counterpart stood side by side before Ven. “We are ready” Noka exclaimed.

They had dinner consisting of roasted boar and fried bananas. Once finished, Ven walked outside to view the blood red moon, which was already casting its glow behind the trees of the nearby jungle. The final red rays of the lingering sunlight were dwindling into twilight. Insects had already begun to encircle the torches that had been lit outside.

 As Ven stood quiet, he could hear the faint sounds of the awakening jungle nightlife. He listened as in the distance sounds created a cacophony echoing through out the walls of the many trees. He took a cigarette from a box in his breast pocket and lit it. Continuing to listen as the noises became more defined, and as he took his first drag, the noise stopped … everything silenced. Aside from a few crickets, which were clearly at the jungle’s entrance, there were no sounds within at all.

 Ven exhaled the smoke that filled his lungs as he listened to the deafening silence. A minute passed as Ven waited for some sort of noise to resume but what met his ears at the next moment would cause him to wonder. What sounded like the cackle of an 80 year old woman mingled with the searing, high-pitched squeal of a porpoise was audible. Its distance was obviously in the furthest part of the jungle from where Ven stood based on the echo of the forest and the low level clarity of the sound. Ven’s brow rose as he paused from smoking to continue listening. The noise was real, not coming from a combination of sources he could tell, but rather coming from the same being. The sounds were slowly growing louder… and closer. The noise reminded him of his Aunt Masterly and how she would laugh herself into a coughing fit when she’d get tickled about something. Her face would turn as red as a turnip when she would get going and she wouldn’t be able to calm down until she would light up her pipe.

Upon that thought, Ven threw his cigarette down and smashed it’s butt with a pivot of his foot. At that moment, Mr. Noka stepped outside and was also greeted by the disturbing sounds. “What is that?” Ven asked. “ That, my friend is the sound of death!” Noka replied. “There has always been a legend about this jungle Mr. Kellar.” “As far back as maybe even time itself. That within the deepest jungles of Black Vineyard, the dead never rest, they remain trapped and doomed to stay within the jungle for eternity.

”Mr. Noka’s face became emotionless as his gazed pierced the trees of the jungle. He seemed to stare 1000 miles beyond the jungle peering right into the purgatory in which he was describing. “A haunted jungle?’’ Ven asked with an arrogant grin. “That has got to be the hokiest legend I believe that I have ever heard.” “It matters not Mr. Kellar.” Noka responded in a slightly detestable manner. “ What is fact is that people have died in there, and whatever did it must be stopped!” “And so we shall gather our gear and begin.” Ven stated.

In the hour that followed, the three men began a trek through ant infested palmetto brush. Ven glanced around soaking in even minute details of the jungle. He observed the vomit green, over growth, which hugged the thick trunk of every tree, as well as bulky vines that stretched from the base to the tops of the trees. He thought they bore the resemblance to the veins and arteries, which caress the muscles in the pictures of biology textbooks he recalls from college days. As they ventured deeper into the jungle, the atmosphere grew darker, more sinister… threatening.

The village warrior stayed at the rear of the expedition caressing the charm of a necklace he was wearing. Intermittently kissing the charm as though reciting silent prayers finishing them off with amends by kissing it.

 Mr. Noka was clearly on point. Grasping his spear with both hands he slowly panned his view back and forth with eyes wide. Ven’s bow remained draped on his shoulder. He didn’t even have the bundle of arrows in his quiver untied to ensure quick retrieval in a time of emergency. Such confidence at a grave time such as the present seems unwise. Mr. Noka thought to himself as he noticed Ven’s relaxed attitude. The night was now full blown as the darkness shrouded the innards of the jungle and a slight mist crept closely to the forest floor. The once blood red moon was now hanging directly overhead showering bluish rays through the swaying fronds and leaves of the trees, as the sounds of nocturnal creatures added to the eerie ambience within.

Ven led the expedition deeper into the jungle woods and they awaited the impending danger to reveal itself with a shock attack or something of that nature. The blackness of their surroundings prompted Mr. Noka to exercise a slight bit of levity to relieve his nervousness. “So. What ultimately brings you to this part of Africa Mr. Kellar?” His personality resembled the cowardly lion at that point. “Is it Water Buffalo, Panther, Moose?” He prodded on. “The thrill of the hunt mainly, Noka.” Ven Answered. Their treads sounded much like raw liver being squashed as their feet fell upon the muddy ground. “I see, are you enjoying your stay here?” “It’s fine”. Ven replied. A few moments passed as they forged forth. The three walked slowly as to ensure that they didn’t trip up on a hidden root or a cypress knee, because nothing on the ground was visible due to the thick mist layering the jungle floor. It must’ve been through fatigue and deep concentration that Mr. Noka’s mind began to wander, as his eyes were fixed upon Ven’s back. Thoughts began to roll through his head like a broken movie projector. “Big Game.” He thought. “Big Game Hunter…” “Trophy.” He couldn’t help but hear a small voice in his head suggest that he may be working things out. He felt as though his prejudice was a little tardy, as he grew severely uneasier. “Thrill of the hunt.” “Big game thrill of the hunt.” “Personal collection.”  “Umm..  Mr. Kellar?” Mr. Noka spoke nervously with a shaking voice. “Yes, Noka?” Ven replied yet continued to face forward. “I urge to ask a question of you.” And before he had the chance to ask the question, Ven slowly turned around to face him. The scene had now taken the most horrifying turn as Ven stood, progressively shaking uncontrollably. His once vital face had now begun to take on an unearthly form as his mouth twisted upward into a ghastly demonic grin. His eyes shined yellow with no iris or pupil and were set in wide sockets and large beige colored teeth with oversized canines peered from behind his full lips. Long streams of clear saliva dangled from his curved mouth and vibrated like the strings of a cello, as his convulsions grew more severe. A voice rattled in his throat as the startling transformation occurred, his appearance taking on the form of some sort of simian creature. “Remember our agreement, Noka” His voice, low and grumbling, sounded similar to an outboard motor when it’s being shut off. “I take any and all possession of a kill for my… personal collection.” The screams echoed throughout the jungle, and then …  silence.

                                   END

If you enjoyed this story, drop me a line @ me email addy. And get ready for more stories comin' at ya soon.