The Freetown State Forest Cult

A lot goes through a man’s mind when he decides to kill himself. First you bargain with yourself, believe that it’s all going to be alright. But its never alright, and it hasn’t been for a while. Once you realize that nothing will change, the future looks bleak and one day you just decide to kill yourself. 

Ray Clarke, thirty-two years old and perpetually unemployed, has decided to use that Glock .40 of his, stick that barrel snug against his chin, and just…Well you get the point. Where has he chosen to spend his final moments? In the Freetown State Forest. 

And here he was, making a path toward a spot to be determined. His mind has been made up. There was no way he’d pussy out again. Not this time.

As he walked his mind drifted back to high school. That’s when he was at his happiest. Had he known that his life would be shit every day of his adult life he would have ended it all at his peak. Go off on a high note. There won’t be a high note tonight. Every second is worse than the last. Constant pain, the bullshit of life. Get a job they say, well Ray’s a felon, even worse he is a woman beater. 

That’s right, Ray knocked his lady around one drunk evening and left her three teeth less. He did a year. He did his time. Ray wanted a second chance. Did he deserve one, no he didn’t but regardless, a felon just can’t get a decent job, if any at all. 

“Stop distracting me.”

I suppose we should focus on the mission at hand. 

Ray walks until nightfall and decided to camp out for the night. Was he having second thoughts?

“I’m going to do it”

Perhaps he was looking for that perfect spot, a spot anyone would love to die at. Tonight, he lives, but tomorrow is another day.

Ray was asleep in the tent when he heard drumming. He tried to shrug it off as just his imagination, but it continued. Soon after he hears people chanting.

“What in the fuck is going on?”

Ray grabbed his Glock and made his way toward the sound. Walking briskly, he jumped over fallen logs and puddles. Then he stopped. Hidden by the bush Ray could see a clearing full of people in robes. Some are drumming, some are singing. In the center is a huge bonfire. Then they stop.

“Berith, we call to you!” a woman yells and the rest repeat. “Disrobe.”

Men and woman stood naked in the woods, and it became obvious to Ray that this was a cult. He pulled out his Glock, just in case. Then he watched.

The cultists passed around a goblet, each member taking a drink. Get it in your blood, they scream. Enrage him, they holler. For Berith! And once everyone has taken a sip everyone stood at attention, not moving a muscle.

They seemed to be in a trance induced by something in that goblet. Ray wondered what it could be. Then they all began to shriek as loud as they could at the sky. For a minute this continued and then…silence. 

Just like that they all return from their trance. For a second, they stumble around, disoriented and then they began growling like beasts and jumping on each other. The entire cult was biting each other and ripping off large pieces of flesh. One of them was killed and the others tore him open, spilling his organs all over. A few from the crowd pounced on the carcass, shoveling viscera into their mouths. 

Ray got up and turned, slowly making his way back to camp so he can secure his shit and get out of there. But Ray is careless and steps on a loud branch, and the snap grabs the attention of one of the cultists. 

The cultist stands there, drenched with blood, eyes locked on with Ray. He took off with the cultist following him. He swatted away branches until he stumbled on the game trail leading back to his car. Once the path was clear he took off, that thing growling behind him.

Out of breath Ray stopped, fully expecting the cultist to pounce on him and rip his esophagus out. When it became apparent that death wasn’t coming, he opened his eyes, startled to see the cultist starring at him.

“Let me go.” Ray pleaded. The cultist screamed as something similar to an earth worm, but a lot bigger, ripped through that man’s chest and out came eight feet of this worm. 

“Surrender to Berith.” The monster spoke. “Surrender to-“

Ray unloaded the Glock into the monster’s head. The worm slammed around a bit but after a minute the monster dropped dead. 

On the way back Ray realized that it could get better. He was so close to death, and he didn’t want to go back for a long while. That experience had changed him. With his car in view Ray runs the rest of the way and stops at the door to take in that fresh air-.

Talons rip through Ray’s shoulders as the winged beast took off into the air. It was hard to tell but this looked more like a pterodactyl than a bird. But how could such things exist?

The thunderbird took Ray back to its nest where little baby creatures were waiting to devour him alive.

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