The best way to get directions to the Ring of Ghosts in the Dark Forest
of Brazoria is to ask the elders who always gather under the Masonic
Oak. They may plead ignorance, but that is for your sake, because
unless your blood is Brazorian, you have no business out there. But
since it is Halloween, I will give you directions to where the grass
doesn't grow and the eagles do not dare, the scariest place on Earth.
You might want to start off with an easy ghost experience first, since
it is on the way to River's End. I speak of the local hardass who has
never left us, Brit Bailey. Like many other old school families around
these parts, he owned the land since Spain sold it to us, and he has
still not taken it upon himself to leave. This is because when they
gave him his Christian burial, which was a farse to begin with, his
wife refused to bury him with his whiskey jug as he had wished. Now he
roams the prairie outside of the Dark Forest looking for a spot of the
old rot gut to wet his whistle, and maybe even scare a few people. But
at least he won't kill you, or hasn't killed anyone yet.
So after your realize you are in ghost country, you should mosey on
down to River's End, which is also where civilization ends. For beyond
it is the Out Yonder of the middle coast of Texas, home of wild
animals, men and mysteries. The folks here are pretty nice, and will
make every attempt to let you know that dirt road leading out of the
village and towards the Dark Forest is not for the weak of heart, and
if it was all the same to everybody involved, why don't you just turn
back? But you won't, because you don't believe just how far down into
the depths of Hell that rabbit hole can go.
So you will know you have reached the edge of the woods when your car
dies. Look off to your right, the would be the Hanging Tree. Many a
woman, man, child and goat have been found hanging from that tree, but
no one ever has figured out who they were, and where they came from,
all dying a Jane or John Doe death. And why something or someone took
the time to skin them, is also something we have never figured out. But
whoever or whatever it is, the work is craftsmen level. The worst
episode was when two young lovers were found, and their respective
skins had been artfully sewn onto the others body, hands and lips
fastened with the strings of made of cat guts. We don't much like to
talk about it, but it happened.
You might as well get of the car, because for some reason they all quit
working here. Back in the olden times, the axels use to pop clean off
wagons and carriages, which would explain why the road ends just around
the bend anyway. Not like much people come out here, especially
considered what happened at the Mansion.
Like something out of a Faulkner nightmare, this ruined antebellum
masterpiece has never been occupied, at least by the living. A young
man had built this place for his wife, who should her gratitude by
dying the second she walked in. The dude went mad, and slaughtered all
his slaves, and it gets worse. He got their bones, burned them clean,
and fastened a bed of nails using their femurs and humerus instead of
metal, creating a baroque scene in his front lawn. And as a local
merchant came up to see what all the comotion was about, the young man
swan dove off the roof and impaled him on the sharp remains of his
slaves he had so painstakingly set up for his last, and greatest act.
Rumor has it, if you try and spend the night in the Mansion, he will
carve you up and use your bones in the same way, forever in a cycle of
trying to further his madness.
It just gets worse from here, because now your only option is to go
into the Dark Forest and face the actual Ring of Ghosts, and maybe even
make it to the scariest place on Earth.
The Dark Forest requires guns, preferably a high gauge shotgun and
pistol with stopping power. This is just for the animals. We got some
wicked shit in this forest. Huge black panthers who scream like dying
ladies, waiting to jump from tree branches to make a meal of you. Huge
javelinas who have taken it upon themselves to mix with Russian boar
whose tusks I have seen pierce radiators in trucks. At least seven
kinds of deadly snakes, and huge pythons usually reserved for covers of
National Geographics. And there is even rumors of jaguars and bears
still roaming the deepest parts, but rumors of the other animals if far
worse.
Take the people bats for example. Don't let the name fool you.
Supposedly there are six foot bats, with human features about their
faces that scavenge the land for blood and flesh. Though none have been
killed or capture, they have been sighted numerous times as they swoop
out of the air to take some poor cow away for God only knows what. They
are supposedly cousin of the Jackson devils that also roam this forest,
both of whom answer and serve the unspokeable horror who leaves at the
place I am leading you to.
Not all the ghosts and specters are malign in the forest, take Lily
Brown for example. She rides on her trademark Palomino, whose spots are
those of the stars in the north end of the sky, looking for those
foolish enough to enter here. She will gladly lead you out since she
lost her soul here long ago.
Or the Ghost Dogs of Orozimbo, who during their time on Earth captured
Santa Ana himself when he tried to escape from our local prison. They
are mostly harmless, though when it comes to ghost dogs, discretion is
the better part of valor.
What you need need to look for is the glowing fire of Der Kinder,
because they lie next to the bayou you are looking for to lead you to
the very heart of this darkness. But for God's sake do no approach. Der
Kinder are a group of young children of the old Prussians who settled
this area before Spain bothered to put a flag up. One night when the
Comanche Moon shown in all its glory, said Comanches found these kids
playing around campfire. They ruthlessly slaughtered them all. Now the
children are waiting for their parents, who have long since passed, to
come lead them in song and dance. If they catch sight of you, you will
be enchanted to play with them in their games, where you will join them
by the fire forever and ever and ever.
But look past the fire and see that glow on the water? That would be
Beacon's Bayou, which finally leads to The Place. This would be a good
time to reload, because the Beacon Clan has been out in this Dark
Forest for generations, with no new blood in their veins. Some say they
are responsible for the horrors of the Hanging Tree, other say they are
responsible for much worse. Distant relatives of the family of chainsaw
massacure fame, which really did happen, they have desire for your
parts, because theirs are so degraded by inbreeding.
Legend has it they will remove your hands and feet, which they dry and
taxidermy before your eyes to fit various members of their family with
prosthetics. One particular gruesome tale is of a bootlegger who
emerged out of the woods in 30s, missing various parts with a gauge in
his belly. As he laid dying, he told of a tale where the river people
would eat part of his liver, believing that it would grow back quickly
again. When asked how long this had been going on, he looked up and
said his last words, "years."
So if anything humaniod comes your direction, kill it. People Bat or
Beacon Clan, you want no part of it. Now along this bayou you will see
a black sand trail leading to a grove of ancient Spanish oaks, about a
half mile away. Now watch out, since there is a perpetual foot to two
feet of fog here, you can never see an alligator coming up to snatch
you by the ankles and drag you down to a watery death. Or the various
venom snakes ready to take a bite out of you hours away from anything
that remotely resembles modern medical care. When you finally see the
Spanish moss hanging from those hundred foot ancient oaks like a
curtain, you are finally there.
In the middle of that grove is a burned out Spanish monastery, where
several priest and dozens of monks might a violent doom. The local
Indians had a legend, which said The Lady in Blue Dress warned them
that if someone came bearing a cross offered them blankets, they were
to kill them all. She said it would happen, at the forgotten and now
forbidden Altar of Ah Puch.
The Spaniards, doing what they do, torn down that pagan structure and
built this small modest monastery. The local Indians suffered this
indignity, but when the monks came out with their small pox blankets,
the ugliness happened. The Spaniards were not just killed, but they
were brutally sacrificed to Ah Puch who is said to have returned and
found his altar defiled. It was then he plunged the whole forest into
darkness, which drove the Indians to the gulf, and brought madness to
all who stayed, and opened a portal to macabre dimensions from which
the People Bats and Jackson Devils are said to have emerged.
If you are brave enough to enter the blackened shell of the walls of
the old monastery, you will find an old charred tabernacle which smells
of death itself. If you kneel, a smokey apparition will appear before
you. This, if you have balls of steel, is when you say "Ah Puch" three
times, and he will appear in all his vile totentanz glory. He will then
harvest your soul, your very essence, and drag you to his empire
outside of the veil of time where you will toil for all eternity
building him a temple of unspeakable horrors in honor of the defiled
one from which you called him.
If you don't believe me, go unto the Dark Forest in Brazoria where the
Ring of Ghosts lies, and find this unholy place and rattle of his name
at the brimstone altar. I dare you, I freaking dare you.