Simply Spooky - Believing By Lorah Jaiyn

Believing
by Lorah Jaiyn

Copyright © 2024  Lorah Jaiyn
All Rights Reserved
 
My upper arms burned from the death grip of Mina’s fingers pinching my skin as we clung to each other and tried not to scream. We barely dared to breathe. I could taste blood from where I bit my tongue when that… thing… first swiped at the tent. The top of the tent, not the side. Straight down on top.
If I wasn’t so terrified, I could laugh at the situation.
A tent. The only thing that protected us. A flimsy piece of material that provided an extremely weak barrier against whatever was out there.
Whether it was the top or side, we were going to die in a tent.
I strained my ears to filter out the howl of the wind and the creaks of the trees to listen for any sound that didn’t belong so we would have some warning that it had returned. Not even the normal swamp sounds of mosquitoes, gators and bullfrogs could be detected.
The longer I listened to nothing, the worse the fear rose until all I could hear was my own heart beating so hard that I was sure it could be heard twenty miles away.
A creature was out there. The one I had seen take Larry.
Take? That didn’t quite fit the situation.
Eat was a better word to use.
My stomach heaved, and I swallowed hard. My eyes squeezed shut and I tried to forget those sounds but they echoed in my mind. The last ones that Larry made. Details I would never outlive.
It was my fault. All of it. I had planned to film the episode on Halloween, the scariest day of the year. I was the one that wanted to come a day early, before the camera crew and actors arrived. Just me, Larry, and Mina. I liked working with Larry, but I would have been happier if Mina had come up with the film crew instead of with us. Not my favorite boss. But she had insisted, so afraid she would miss something.
I wrote the scripts, Larry did everything set wise, and Mina produced, which basically meant she supervised me and Larry. A reality show that required careful preparation and set up. 
Scripted reality. The irony was never lost on me.
The trudge that brought us to this now-Godforsaken location had been easy. We only carried enough stuff to spend the night. I loved the outdoors and had grown especially fond of this swamp on all of my visits to scout the area and conduct interviews.
The still, quiet beauty that blanketed the slime-covered water; the cypress knees rising above the surface of the stagnant pools, just perfect for fairies and trolls to rest on; the majestic trees mirrored against the sky on the surfaces as yet unmarred by algae. The delight of the occasional armadillo as it scurried about.
But this story is about the Florida Boar Beast.
Here’s a little backstory.
With so many shows searching for Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster, Mina started a series that featured local lore; obscure and offbeat local legends handed down generation to generation, those not always searchable, even on Wikipedia. The stories where no one outside the immediate community actually believed the hype, but the tales were fun. I admired her concept, but she was a real beast of her own to work for.
Her idea was perfect for the shows that people love and watch, even as Larry hid speakers to make noises and created “natural” signs that a beast lurked. It made for better reality.
The Boar Beast legend was simply that he ruled the swamp. The few witnesses who had escaped the beast swore it was half man, half wild boar, with tusks of bone that tore flesh from bone. The beast’s hands came with razor sharp claws to hold its prey, and its snout was tough enough to gore a man and suck his insides out before the victim had time to die. Locals claimed the Boar Beast was more ferocious and had a vicious temperament that far exceeded the actual wild pigs that roamed the entire state.
 
* * *
 
My first witness has been combative.
“But Willard, wild boar have hooves, not claws like a cat,” I told the homeless old man who sat outside the local grocery day in and day out, allegedly too afraid to continue living in his house after a run in with the Boar Beast.
“I don’t give a damn what you think, lady. I is telling you it had claws like a god damned bear and with one swipe, it took ol’ Hank’s entire neck plumb off his shoulders. It used one of them there claws to skin that sorry bastard, and then it ate Hank’s innards like it was a buffet on Sunday.”
I resisted the desire to roll my eyes. “But they never found his body. His wife says he just ran off with the girl from the cable office.”
Willard’s eyes had almost glowed with passion as he remembered his friend. “I hightailed it outta there before I was dessert. But you know sumthin? His wife hated that man’s guts almost as much as the Boar Beast loved them. And everyone knows that pigs don’t leave nuthin’ uneaten. How would they find Hank’s body when there ain’t nuthin’ left?” He leaned closer. “You listen to me. You go out in that there swamp and you ain’t comin’ back.”
Despite the stories I heard, while Mina had loved the passion of the small town’s story tellers, I had already fallen in love with the swamp that surrounded it.
 
* * *
 
Another gust rattled the tent. Mina whimpered; the tiny cry sounded much louder than it was. I grabbed her head and used my hand as a gag as I squeezed her face. 
The howl of the wind died down, and the sudden silence roared in my head. 
Craaack!
A branch on a tree or a stick underfoot? It echoed in the tent like a gunshot and the pitch black amplified the sound.
It was toying with us. I could feel it.
Mina’s throat vibrated as she tried to cry out again. I squeezed harder. I’d strangle her and offer her body in tribute if I had to. Each woman for herself.
I waited, but there was just silence. Maybe it was just a tree branch, but I didn’t move or let go of Mina. We didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of living if that...thing...actually wanted us. But that simple piece of material that blocked my view of certain death gave me false hope. I clung to it like a drowning man holds onto a buoy.
 
* * *
 
My second witness was unwilling and not a fan of reality television.
Gertrude, the self-appointed town mayor, didn’t want us doing the segment. “It’ll give our little piece of heaven a bad name.”
The town consisted of the small grocery where I’d met Willard, a convenience store, a liquor store, and a bar. Even those were run down and trashy looking. A post office and cable office sat on the outskirts of the town’s boundary and both looked more like old shacks. Not exactly a piece of heaven.
Maybe Gertrude meant the small airboat outfit run out of a man’s house that took people out into the swamp. That would be heaven, at least to me.
I explained. “It’ll probably bring in some tourist revenue when people come out here to search for the Boar Beast themselves.”
The talk of money quieted her for a moment, but she was still adamant. “That’s exactly my point.” Gertrude leaned in close. “Do you have any idea what that monster does to people? We’ve lost a good plenty of fine men who tried to hunt it down. My own Leonard was one of those, rest his soul. I don’t know why anyone would want to go out there now and search for it on purpose. Your show would just be encouraging suicide.”
“How do you know it got your husband? According to Willard, there’s nothing left behind by wild pigs. How do you know your husband didn’t just run off?”
That just pissed her off.
“Oh, hush your mouth and don’t be listenin’ to old Willard. Hank’s wife wants to believe he done run off ‘cause she hated her husband. But I loved mine. Leonard was a wonderful family man, bless his heart. He would never have run off with some hussy.”
 
* * *
 
After camp was set up, I’d taken my camera and set off on my own little adventure. I had purposely chosen this segment to be filmed on Halloween eve, just for the spook factor, and while I had a good lay of the area, extra hours exploring would not hurt to be sure to give a good show and to be sure to capture the scariest parts.
And while I work for Mina, today was mine. I just needed to hurry before she wanted to join me.
I left her by the campfire going over her notes, while Larry donned his hip waders and set out to do his thing. Being a snake enthusiast, he’d been looking to come in close contact with a water moccasin while he scouted the best hiding places for sound effects. 
I headed in the opposite direction from Larry. I have this thing where I like to be alone and pretend that I’m in my own little world. No stress, no demands, no people. Just me and nature. My opportunities for these adventures are slim, so I had every intention of taking advantage of this one. 
I was photographing a dragonfly on a cattail when I felt…it. The sun was low behind the trees and the Jurassic Park-sized mosquitoes were making themselves known when the icy-cold prickles traveled up my back. That feeling of being watched; the one that makes the little hairs on the back of your neck rise. I had wandered quite a way from camp and suddenly questioned my intelligence. Just because the show was fake didn’t mean that the dangers of the location were. 
But this wasn’t the feeling of sighting an alligator or tripping over a snake. This was a presence; something sizing me up. 
My body convulsed in one helluva cold chill.
I listened to my heartbeat as I took a long, slow look around. Nothing moved. I searched the higher branches of the cypress trees for any predators looking down. Nothing. Not even a cricket made a sound.
Had it always been so quiet?
I took a step back toward camp, then another. I had no idea if I should watch in front of me or behind me, but it was out there.
Was that a movement by that tree?
I strained to see around it; watched the branches to see if something climbed.
Over there. Did something duck? I watched but saw nothing.
Anxiety riddled my body with pins and needles. I hurried back toward camp at a fast walk; I wanted to run but wouldn’t allow myself to do it. My breath came short and fast as I focused on my feet.
One step.
Two steps. Don’t run.
I could see Mina in the distance when the first screech echoed on the wind, one that didn’t sound quite human, but also didn’t sound quite not human. It quickly turned into a bloodcurdling scream, guttural and raw. Definitely human. And male.
Mina stood as I joined her, and like in every horror movie cliché, we moved toward the sound. I was in front of her when I saw...it...over a palmetto bush. 
The Boar Beast.
Instinct took over and I raised the camera. I heard Mina’s sharp intake, but whether it was for the scene before us or me taking pictures, I had no idea. I was on autopilot.
It had Larry’s head firmly gripped in one hand; its claws impaled in the flesh of his shoulders. Larry let out a final cry that ended in a wet gurgle as the powerful talons crushed his skull. His arms flailed as a strip of skin was ripped from his back, muscle and tendons snapping as blood splattered the ground. A final twitch and he was still.
I lowered the camera after watching the gruesome act through the lens. I had recorded the first proof of a local legend. And a murder.
The creature grabbed Larry’s thigh with its free hand and lifted his body like it weighed nothing. A wet, crunching noise sounded across the swamp; it was like watching the Boar Beast eat an ear of corn. Mina grabbed at me, eyes wide, mouth open. Her strangled cry made the creature freeze. 
It slowly turned toward us. Blood dripped from the huge tusks.
True reality snapped me back to the situation. I shoved her to the ground behind the bushes. “GO!”
I didn’t have to tell her twice. We left a trail of DNA samples from our hands and knees on the briars and rough ground as we crawled back to the tent. The cracking of bone and grunting slurps assaulted our ears the whole way.
 
* * *
 
I thought of my dad while trapped in that tent; we had plans for the following weekend. Will I be dead? How many people can this thing eat before it’s satisfied?
Hysterical laughter threatened to bubble up at the question. I released Mina face but dug my fingers into her arm in warning. I hoped that she could read my mind in the dark that next time, it was an instant throat punch.
Does it really matter? It knows we’re here.
I tasted blood again as I chewed my tongue. A new scratching noise filled the tent, but the sound was different. It sounded like a fingernail along the material. I felt Mina slump over, but I didn’t care if she had died or just passed out so long as she was quiet.
Was that a claw testing the fabric? Would a Boar Beast bother to check?
Your heart is beating. It knows right where you are.
Mina stirred and sat up. I dug my nails into her arm without looking up, and she stayed quiet. The sound of her breathing made me itch to perform that throat punch.
Another branch cracked. I wrapped my arms around my knees and tucked my head, eyes closed. What I can’t see won’t hurt me.
My lungs burned from not breathing, so I let in a little air. Shallow breaths while she hyperventilates. Slow your heartbeat so hers is more appetizing.
My skin itched from overactive nerves; blood rushed in my ears. 
Scratch. Scratch.
Snuff.
A huffing sound enveloped us from the bottom of the tent. Something scratched the ground, its breath snorting through its nose as it tried to smell us.
We’re hiding from a monster just to get eaten by a bear.
Who would believe us?
Had the bear interrupted the Boar Beast? Did the Boar Beast get scared off by anything?
Indecision ran through me and competed with the rising terror. Do we scream and scare it off? Whack it with the Maglite? Will the beast eat the bear?
I clawed at my chest, trying to force my lungs to work. I didn’t need to pass out now. How long can we stay like this? 
I had no answers but I also knew that we had no more time.
 
* * *
 
My final pre-segment interview had been with a one of the few witnesses, a woman who lost her husband and son to the Boar Beast.
“He shanked my little boy with that tusk and lifted him right up off the ground. Left him hang there while he ripped my husband’s chest open.”
I saw the pain in her eyes. “And you watched this? You saw this happen?”
“I was in my husband’s tree stand looking down. It was almost dark, and we knew we shouldn’t be in there that late, but we needed the meat so we was waiting for the deer.”
“Why did you think it was too late to hunt? Most prey comes out at dusk.”
She looked at me like I was stupid. “Everyone knows the Boar Beast only hunts from twilight to sun up. He sleeps during the day.”
“Fair enough. Was the law able to help you at all?”
She shrugged. “Sure. They put me in a looney bin for a few weeks. They ain’t sending no one into that swamp to hunt that thing.” She leaned closer. “It wouldn’t matter. None of ‘em would ever come out of there again. Nothing comes out of that swamp after dark.”
 
* * *
 
The memory leveled out my breathing; my pulse slowed just a little. All we had to do was make it to sunrise. Larry died in the dusk. I just needed a few more hours. At least it was something to cling to.
The bushes crackled nearby but the huffing stopped. A moment of crashing in the underbrush and then nothing but a heavy blanket of quiet.
The bear had gotten bored and moved on, or so I hoped. I felt Mina move her legs and slapped her to stay still so I could listen. There was another possibility.
Had the beast come back and scared it off?
I held my breath again as I listened. Everything was silent. How can silence be so loud?
Whoomph!
Out of nowhere, something big grabbed the tent. I fell sideways as Mina launched herself at me to get away from whatever it was. 
Riiiiipppppp!
I froze as cool air burst in as the material was torn away. Mina tried to crawl past me but I held her tight, still half underneath her and almost using her as a shield.
She suddenly stiffened and writhed wildly. “Get off me! Let me go!” It had her by the ankle. Her cries of terror echoed in the dark. I tried not to grunt as she kneed me in the gut with her flails.
Her kicks weakened with each scream of pain. A sudden yank and her weight lifted off me.
“No! NOOOO!” 
She tried to hold on to me, but I backed away as she struggled to free herself from the beast. In the sudden illumination from the moon, I could see her being dragged. I couldn’t make him out clearly, but I knew who it was. Almost as if watching in slow motion, Mina’s arms extended toward me as she was pulled along; her eyes wide and pleading. I turned away as she disappeared from sight. I had never been a fan of horror movies and this certainly fit the ticket.
Aren’t you glad you’re not missing out on anything now?
Karma was going to kick me hard for thinking it, but nonetheless, I had the thought.
Crunch!
One loud crack and her screams were cut short before the deafening silence settled back in place.
If Mina hadn’t been worried about missing out, that would have been me.
That sucking, smacking noise reverberated through the night as I wrapped the remnants of the tent around my shoulders and over my head. I curled into a fetal position and rocked myself on the ground.
My lungs gave way and I could no longer breathe. I let the world go blacker than the night.
 
* * *
 
When I woke up, I struggled to open my eyes against the bright light. The events of the past night flooded through my mind, and I bolted upright.
I was still alive.
A new day had begun. Halloween morning.
I tripped when I stood up and stomped my feet to free them from the ruined tent. The swamp lay before me, as beautiful and serene as it had been the afternoon before. The breeze blew, birds chattered, cicadas brrrrrzzzzzed, frogs harumphed. All was as it should be.
How do I come back from this?
Because now I know its secret. And I know the answer to my own morbid question.
The Boar Beast eats two people. Two lives per feeding.
I don’t even bother to look for Mina before I glance around the campsite. I'm not taking anything with me except my camera. I am numb from all that happened, but I am not about to lose those photographs. Even if I never show anyone in order to protect lives, I will keep them safe. If the pictures go public, others will come to face the beast, like I just did. Sometimes reality really is just that…reality.
I will not be responsible when they die just to satisfy their curiosity.
I have no desire to hurry on the hike out; for now, I'm safe. Until dusk. I want to enjoy whatever peace I can before the circus begins; just a bit to collect myself. Thinking straight is not an easy task. Processing the last twelve hours is impossible.
But I do need to stop the camera crew and actors. The ones who still believe my recommendation that we film the segment about a monster in a swamp on Halloween night is a great idea and just another publicity stunt. I know better now, and I can’t let that happen.
Pfft.
I need to find a new job.
Later.
First, I need to report this fiasco. There will be a mock investigation; there has to be. Two people are dead. But local law enforcement will understand the situation and not waste any manpower hours to search for bodies they know they’ll never find. The locals will just have another story to pass down.
I’ll give a statement and be on my way. Anyone outside the small town can make their own conclusions.
But none of that matters. What anyone thinks doesn’t make any difference to me.
Because now, I believe. In the Boar Beast and local lore.
And I am done with reality television.
And Halloween.

Lorah Jaiyn focused on her writing career after a nasty case of empty nest syndrome, followed by the dreaded absent-Gramma disorder, due to her daughter and Air Force son-in-law moving around the country. Lorah has the heart of a bear - sometimes soft and cuddly, and sometimes brutal and deadly. Her mood dictates her heart, which is reflected in her projects. Most all her works involve at least some element of romance – but not all.
 
Originally from Western New York, Lorah has lived in North Central Florida her entire adult life. She enjoys her grandsons as much as possible, as well as exploring the great outdoors and putting her camera to good use. Lorah is well known for her love of squirrels, which often find their way into her stories. A Merry Band of Freeloaders live in the trees in her back yard and stalk her patio for handouts.  
 
You can find Lorah at 

AUTHOR WEBSITE