I recently recovered from a very serious accident. Apparently someone found me unconscious on a back road near my hometown and I have spent 5 years in a hospital bed in a coma. I don't remember anything except for me driving somewhere down a dark road and being blinded by a light that seemed to come from everywhere. There is nothing else. Didn't even know my name until someone gave me the wallet with my photo ID in it. Kyle Williams still feels like it doesn't fit.

Most of my possessions are gone, except for a laptop, some clothes, an envelope of cash and a strange looking gun (that looks like a prop for a sci-fi movie, I guess I was some sort of hardcore fan) that someone was paying to keep in storage. Oddly, the name seems to be false and the payments were made in advance with cash. Luckily it appears they correctly guessed the exact month I would wake up.

When I started looking around on the laptop I saw that I used to spend a great deal of time on this site, even apparently had a auto-login stored for it. I can see that there are some fairly strange tales I was spinning on here. Was this some sort of Sci-Fi Horror storytelling site and can anyone here tell me anything about myself that doesn't sound like a bad episode of television? I cannot imagine that anything I wrote was real, it is just too strange; but with the gun and the tales it looks like I was trying to be a horror/sci-fi writer or something.

I would appreciate anyone helping me out.

The old man stood over me, just past him I could see the thing blowing away like dust. "Welcome to Hell, or at least as close to it as either of us will hopefully come to it. Next time listen to me and carry your damn gun. Someone managed to finally rig the system a little, you almost blew it because you were a damn fool."

Maybe it was the shock of the attack, maybe it was experiencing that force exploding out of me at the last moment, or maybe it was just my mind cracking. No matter what it was, my voice had left me and all I found myself doing was nodding in silence.

Another light broke through the darkness, and in it's passing by the old man I saw the white collar on the black shirt. Finally, my voice came back and I asked, "What was that?"

"A hound is what we call them. We think it is a possessed wildcat, but you don't exactly get a lot of time study it when you find one. They tend to keep you occupied with trying to not get your damn throat torn out."

"What did you do? What did I do? What is going on?" My mind was racing.

"I will start by answering the last question first. You are in Caleb's Point, which means you are now a participant in someone's or something's twisted game where you are both a hunter and the hunted."

"We try to stay alive and protect the sheep. Sorry, the sheep are the people not aware of where we find ourselves. Things like our disintegrating friend try to kill us all. Whenever a side manages to kill so much of the other, they are rewarded. You my lucky friend were our reward. Some reward, you almost get your damn head ripped off on your first night in town."

Sheepishly I asked, "Why not leave?"

The man smiled, "Try, you will find you will get lost and end right back where you started. Some tried the rail line and the river, but all we ever find of them are remains on the tracks or a body in the river."

"No, my foolish friend, from what we have determined you are here til one side wins. We have limited communication with the outside world, but you will find you cannot leave and they cannot get in. The automated train pulls in with stuff from the outside world not made here, and takes the wood and coal out. If there is a living soul operating the train, we never see them. Most things you will find just come from the valley. Internet was a nice addition, not sure why they allowed that."

"I even tried finding a road out of town when I first became aware and discovered there is none. You can get to the village of Angel's Rest then up to the mines one way, and you can go the other way as far as The Demon's Falls by the logging camp. Go to either and you will find there is no road to go further. And again, you can't walk out."

"Now if you are tired of sitting on your ass in the cold, how about we go back to town and celebrate you still having your skin on your back with a drink? There is a man I need you to meet, perhaps he can help you understand that gun of yours."

"Wait, I need answers for my other questions," I started.

"After the drink," he replied. And with that he started towards town.

With no clue what else to do, I followed. What the hell is going on?

I am not sure why I find myself posting all of this. Maybe I just need to vent my ideas. Maybe it is me looking for a connection to who I was. Whatever it is I feel drawn here.

GhostSpider wrote:Sorry man, but this is indeed real. It is not often one gets to fall down the rabbit hole a second time. Welcome back to the nuthouse.

The message stared back at me from the laptop. I felt my mouth go dry, but I did not have any desire to drink more of my tea. No one else in the coffee shop noticed. The message made me want to move, I needed to move. So I gathered the laptop into the messenger bag it was in and started walking.

I had no idea where I was going or even where I was. I just was walking. Then I felt the silver cross thump against me. It was an item among my clothes and I wore more in hope of a memory stirring than anything else at the time. But now, it gave me a direction.

There was a small church up ahead, and I went there. Maybe if I was a believer someone there would know who I was, explain away the message that seemed to be eating at me. The old man was there, and he beckoned me back to his office.

"You look to be someone with a lot eating at them right now. How can I help you?"

"I feel like everything is unreal, like I am adrift. They gave me a cross with my belongings and, well...." I trailed off into the silence.

"Let me see the cross," the man kindly said.

I handed over to him. He stared at it, seemed to zone out actually. Then he handed it back and smiled kindly.

"Can I see the gun? Do you have it on you?" The question stopped me cold, but the smile seemed to disarm me. I reached into the bag and pulled it out. Still can't explain why I had the thing with me.

I set it on the desk between us and he picked it up. That same glazed over expression, like he was looking through me into something behind me, came over him again. That odd smile came back, then just as quickly left. He set the gun back on the desk, pushed it towards me and then spoke.

"That is a very unique weapon. I think it is very important to you, and from someone very special. If I had to guess you will find that you have a carry permit for it." The way he seemed to know this made me uncomfortable, and it must have shown.

"I cannot explain everything right now, my flock is coming soon for a service. I will meet with you tonight for a drink, and I will do my best to explain everything I can. But, it is vital that you keep that weapon on you and that you get a room at the local motel and not go out tonight."

He almost seemed to be pleading at this point, "Please."

At this point, the look in his eye and that voice was too much. I nodded, whatever it took to placate the old man. Then gathered my stuff and got up. I nodded again and retreated as quickly as possible from the church. I think I managed to almost run an old lady over as I left, but all I was wanting then was to get out of the building.

Looking back, I should have listened.

The first drink disappeared fast. So fast that I almost didn't realize it was gone and replaced with the second. The rifle he had used was now resting again in the gun rack. The coffee in my hands was taking the chill from them, but I had no interest in it. After a few seconds, the old man started.

“I will tell you this how it was explained to me forty years ago. Whatever you were, wherever you came from, it is gone now. We all have glimpses of what may have been, but no one has ever remembered. You are best of forgetting it and find what happiness there is in this damned place.”

“We all found ourselves here, none of us can remember before the day we woke here. Quite a few of us came from the orphanage that seems to always have new children appear. Hell, I bet half the people in this town came from the orphanage and the other half wandered in from the tracks. It is almost as if the lost and discarded are gathered up and put here for the devil's amusement.”

That last bit came out bitterly, and the second drink seemed to be almost a salute to something remembered. The third was poured a little more slowly, as I waited for him to continue.

“Those who taught me explained that we were part of an eternal struggle. Whenever one of us killed, the other side grows stronger. Whenever we manage to put a dent in their numbers, the opposite happens. We taught we had almost won at one point, and boy did we pay for our arrogance.”

“Now of those that are left, most of us are too weak to effectively hunt. In fact, most of us are too damn scared to leave our sanctuaries at night, some even to go out in the day. Me and only two others actually manage to kill them every once in a while.”

He looked hard into his glass again, and I found myself asking, “What was that thing?”

He looked back, “You daft or something, it was a bloody demon!!! Something most sane people think is a fairy tale or mythology. We on the other hand get to see and fight the never ending damn supply of them.” At that he bitterly drained his third drink. It seemed to steady him.

“I'm sorry if I am rough. It is just what I saw when I touched the gun, and then I see that you are just as broken as the rest of us.”

This seemed to take more out of him than anything else that happened this day.

“What do you mean?”

“You, my lucky lad, have been blessed by God. You have been given special abilities that let you face the horrors of the dark one, like most of us that are aware here. Not only that, but you are blessed with a weapon that can really hurt them."

"That power that you uncontrollably threw out was God's gift to man to turn back the darkness. Most of us that are left can only sense and heal, but I saw that you can fight. Do you understand what that means, especially if you can do what I saw?”

He seemed to wander off into his thoughts, maybe of the future or maybe of what once was.

“I can't do anything, I barely kept myself alive,” I replied.

“That's where you are wrong. I saw you handle yourself, you instinctively moved as a man trained. They can strip your memory and identity, but the knowledge of your skills stays. You can't remember why you know, but when you need it you find that you do know. I've seen it many times and it always is how it works.”

The audacity of the statement crashed into my memory of what just happened and then further back to what I read here earlier in the day. I took my first drink of the coffee to buy some time while I gathered my thoughts. Then almost without thinking I spoke.

“Ok, if what you are saying is true then how did you kill that thing, and how do I make the gun work? So far it hasn't done anything special that a normal gun wouldn't do.”

The old man started to smile, but he still looked very old and tired.

After leaving the church I wandered for a while. It felt like I was just trying to remove an oppressive force confining me. But I realized the old man had one thing right, I needed a place to stay.

I found a motel not far from the heart of the town. I checked in and took my meager possessions to my room. I then sat on the bed and tried to clear my mind, but soon curiosity got the better of me. I got the gun out and started to examine it.

The gun was black with silver slide and muzzle brake. Etched into it was rune like markings. Where the caliber and model should have been, Demonstomper .40 was etched into the smooth metal. The grip was had jewels set into it, and the red dot/flashlight scope seemed to be molded into the gun itself.

An empty clip was in the gun, and there was a second one on the holster. Looking at them put another whim in my mind, did the gun actually work? I decided to find out.

A quick look in the phone book found me a gunshop, and I headed in that direction. When I arrived, the owner looked at the clip and informed me that it was a USP .40 clip. I bought a box of ammo, and paid to make use of the range.

The gun worked and worked well, but it was just a gun. No laser beams, no fireballs, just hot lead hitting the target. Satisfied and disappointed at the same time, I thanked the owner, took the rest of my ammo, and headed back to the hotel.

It was getting late and I decided to take a walk and find something to eat. I remembered the old man's words and looking back now, foolishly decided to ignore his advice. I left the gun in the motel safe, and left the room.

"I can't tell you how to make it work," he replied sadly. "The knowledge is in that head of yours, locked up tight. I have a friend that may be able to help with that."

"She and her son are probably the two most powerful left in the valley. However, their fear of one losing the other has them both locked up in a prison of their own making. Neither has left their home for anything in years...." He trailed off into memory again.

"Okay, so can you at least explain how you killed that thing? The skin on that thing felt like steel and I saw your first two bullets do nothing to it. Then all of a sudden you were shredding it like it was made out of paper."

"The first two bullets were regular shells. In my haste I put the wrong cartridge into the gun. The rest were silver bullets."

I must of had a funny look on his face because he paused and then continued.

"Yes, I said silver. Silver, garlic, holy relics, cold iron, wooden stakes, holy water, and all those odd weapons found in legend. Can't explain it, but they work. The myths and legends of our past are not stories made up by ancient men out of boredom. They are cautionary tales, instructions on how to deal with the dark things of the night."

"Now the modern versions of them, most of them are complete crap. The legends are twisted by some foolish, hippie writer until there is nothing of use in them. Never seen a vampire sparkle or meet a werewolf that was misunderstood and wanted to just be friends. In fact, just about every demon or monster I've met would rather kill you than talk to you because that is what humans are to them, food."

"Not only do those work, but some of us are blessed. We have abilities and gifts that others do not. We were chosen to be protectors of humanity, and the creator gave us gifts to do that job. What you did, I've seen it before. Along with fire from the mind, telekinesis.... Old Joseph could lift cars and punch through steel when he fought. That said, most of us can only sense the spirits and demons and we have to use other methods to combat."

"Now, it is getting late and I've drank more than I should have. Fighting those damn things always makes me want to drink. Sleep in the guest room tonight. This house is protected, but you probably would not make it back to the motel if you tried tonight. I have a feeling that he is quite angry right now."

With that he, he got up and made his way to bed. I sat there for a while and reflected again on the attack. Was that feeling of coldness I felt then a part of the "gifts' (or maybe curse) I have been given?

The evening was cool as I walked along the river path towards the state park. The plan was to clear my mind and that seemed to be as good of a place as any. I could see the sun starting to dip behind the mountains, and the lights on the pathways were lighting up.

After about 20 minutes of walking I started to feel a chill. Not just a hey it's getting dark chill, but a someone just threw a pitcher of cold water down my spine chill. I looked around, but saw nothing. Shrugging, I started walking again, but my senses were wired now. I felt like someone was watching me.

Time reached the point when the sun was behind the mountains, but the light of dusk was still there. It was then that I saw (or maybe I felt it first). It looked like a wolf but it wasn't, or maybe wolfhound. Either way it was big and it was looking straight at me.

I froze in place, hoping that with it being far enough away it would ignore me and see something else. It started sniffing the air, licked it's chops, and then headed in my direction. It seemed to trotting at first.

I started retreating, never taking my eyes off the thing. It was so big, it just didn't seem possible for a wolf to be that size. But in my walking backwards, I tripped and as soon as I hit the ground the beast started to move at a full run.

I reached about me frantically and grabbed the good sized branch that was sitting just off the path. I pulled it in front of me just as the beast pounced.

Before I continue, I guess I should clarify something. There is a Caleb's Point in West Virginia, and I guess that is where whoever was posting as DarKnyht prior (if what you claim is true that is me also) was posting from. The place I am writing from is here in Western Virginia.

I know confusing, but you won't believe how many people apparently confuse West Virginia and western Virginia, not to mention two towns in those regions with the same name (if you don't believe me watch Jay Leno "Man on the Street" bit). But if you want to royally piss off anyone in either of the two cities, confuse the two of them. I learned this the hard way when just asking about Caleb's Point, WV.

Apparently, both claim to be next to the mountain an explorer named Caleb Thompson died on during colonial times. The people here believe the other town is just trying to steal their claim to fame starting back when the state of Virginia split. The local legend claims there is quite a bit of gold hidden wherever Caleb finally met his maker.

When I woke up from my dreamless sleep, I smelled bacon. The old man apparently had breakfast ready, and my stomach was grateful. We chatted some more while eating, but not about the subject we spoke of that night.

After breakfast, it was on to the small grocery store in town. He said that if he was going to take me to Pani Gorski's house, he might as well pick up her supplies for the week. Apparently Pani Gorski never left the house.

The home itself was not anything special. It sat right up against the street with a big front porch. The old man took out a key, knocked twice then unlocked and opened the door. Inside was like stepping into another country.

The place was dim, little light came in through the drawn curtains and the lamps were either underpowered or dingy. Garlic hung everywhere and where there was no garlic, crucifixes hung instead. The furniture looked old, but well cared for.

Sitting in the living room was a young man in his early 20's. He was playing a video game while rocking from side to side. The old man greeted him as "Durgi", but Durgi acted like we were not even there.

We moved into the kitchen, where an old woman stood with her back to us at the kitchen sink. She wore a dress with a shawl around her shoulders. The shawl was beaded, as was the scarf that was on her head. "Lucas, you didn't tell me you were bringing a visitor with you," she said in a thick accent. "Now I will have to make another cup of tea, I already know you well enough to not offer breakfast. You know that bacon is going to be the death of you."

"I wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't important, and if the bacon is what gets me I will die a happy man."Lucas replied.

"Darling, I thought that would be the truth of it. What is it that you wish of me? You know that I just want to live in peace with my son."

"Well, the rest of us can't just bury out heads in the sand and pretend that there isn't a war going on out there. I didn't come here to re-fight that battle today, we both damn well know we will never see eye-to-eye on that issue. I came to see if you can help this young man remember something important. Something that might be able to help us out of here."

She paused what she was doing for a second. Then she turned and said flatly, "Are you bringing trouble through my door, Lucas?"

"You know as well as I do that there is no peace in this town. Eventually they will come for both of you. The question is will do anything to prevent it?"

She paused again, and then let out a long sigh. "Very well, what do you wish of me, old friend?"

With that the old man told me to hand over the gun. "We need you to find the creator of this weapon, and then bring them back for a conversation. I've seen what it can do, and it might mean giving our side a chance once again."

"Lucas, you ask much of me. If this one came in by himself to ask this, I would have just wacked him in the head with my frying pan and chased him out the door. But I supposed you knew that, so that I think is why you ask it. It is hard to turn away a man I owe so much, but even you press your luck my friend."

With that she sat down and waved that we should do the same. She touched the gun and closed her eyes. Nothing happened at first, then the entire room grew dim and as she opened her eyes I realized the pupils were gone...

While I know that everything was over in seconds, it felt like an eternity in my mind.

The jaws of the beast clamped on the branch. It offered some resistance, but almost immediately began to break. I felt the weight of the beast shoving me back town into the dirt. My body was covered in a cold sweat, and fear gripped my heart. Then something clicked and the fear mixed with anger at wrongness of the situation, and then finally rage as I refused to die like this.

My feet had curled up in defense as it pounced and now the found pressed up against the underside of the beast. As it started to fall forward, I started helping it along with my feet. Pushing it past my head so I was looking at it's underside. A pressure started to build in my skull, demanding to be released. I obliged with a roar of fear and/or anger, and the pressure in my skull grew more painful.

The mental dam broke and the force slammed into the beasts, pushing it upwards. I grabbed and then pushed with all my might. It was enough, and the beast was thrown past me. It landed with a thud off the path, but quickly it was struggling back to it's feet.

I tried to regain feet, and when I got back on them I staggered. I felt completely drained. The beast was back on it's feet also. Then there was two quick cracks, and I guess the dull thuds as it hit the beast. The bullets did nothing, except make the beast angrier. It approached again, but more cautious this time.

I held up the longer of the branch remains in front of me. If I was going to be dinner, I would not be a cooperative meal. I felt as fearsome as I probably looked, wobbling and shaking like a man who has already gone 9 rounds with the champ.

It went for my legs this time, I swung the branch at it's head. As it came around, I heard was another round of cracks. At least the person was persistent, even if it was pointless. However, this time the bullets tore into the beast. It staggered and the branch was pulled out of my numb fingers. It tried to recover but more bullets slammed into it before it could. This time it fell over, and despite it's attempt to stand it could not. Another round went through it's head, and finally the beast dropped.

It was about then that my legs gave out and I found myself admiring the night sky again. My head felt light and I was chilled by the sweat pouring off of me into the cool air. My mind was numbed by trying to process what it just saw. I was vaguely aware that my savior was approaching after being satisfied that it was safe for the moment.

The old man stood over me, just past him I could see the thing blowing away like dust. "Welcome to Hell...."