Grimwood Adventure: A Bizarre Discovery

SEPTEMBER 19, 1989

SOMEWHERE IN MIDDLE NEW ENGLAND

Seventeen year-old Anon liked to walk. It was really the only thing he enjoyed doing during the fall months. His routine was a simple one: finish the day at school and whatever homework followed, pack a sandwich, a Walkman, and some tapes in a bag, and just walk. Anon thought he had walked the entirety of his town and even some of its outskirts, but he had never before discovered the trail that he was presently walking on.

This trail was overgrown and straight the whole way--no curves or anything, almost like the rail-trail he had walked with his dad a few miles away. It could’ve been hours that Anon walked the trail, but there was still ample light out (or rather, as ample as it could be on a cloudy friday). “Dance Hall Days” was slowing in tempo, indicating that the batteries were dying in his Walkman, but Anon always let the AAs run their course. By the time they did die off, Anon had found himself in an open area and was gazing up to his left at what looked like a prison. The building was a large, grey complex fenced off with chain link fences with barbed wire at the top. Near the gate was a wooden sign with “Calloway Military Academy” stenciled on it. ‘I didn’t know we had a military school,’ thought Anon. He decided to keep moving--he didn’t feel like dealing with any of the cadets who might have a bad attitude.

 After Anon finally changed the Walkman’s batteries, “Don’t Let Go” was playing its normal tempo again. He kept moving along the trail where the darkening woods surrounded him once more. These woods were very peculiar, as there were several dead or felled trees along the way, and the trees that were alive (or seemed to be) looked like they’d become the scratching post for some large animal. The more Anon pushed forward, the more interested he became; he wasn’t one to begin a journey and not finish it. He had reached another clearing, which continued onward to his right. The only interesting thing here was a decently sized, but clearly disheveling victorian-style mansion that was surrounded by an ancient brick wall along the perimeter of the lot it sat upon. The iron gate that was partially rusted and bent all awry stood open on its hinges, revealing the weedy walkway that led up to the mansion. It was quite eerie to Anon, but the open gate gave him the strange sensation of beckoning--as if the place wanted to be explored. This, combined with curiosity got the best of Anon, and he stepped through the gate and up the walkway.

As Anon approached the stairs of the mansion, the air grew hazier and colder. He was suddenly filled with an uneasy feeling that made him think ‘Maybe I should head back.’ No, he wanted to see this. He wanted to explore this place from top to bottom, and hey, what’s to be scared of?

The steps creaked under Anon’s feet, but despite their age they didn’t fail under his weight; this was no issue, as Anon didn’t have an especially large build. He was now standing on the doorstep of the mansion, with the large double doors closed in front of him. Anon outstretched his hand, and pulled the handle--the door opened outward with surprising ease; not even a creak could be heard. Stepping into the doorway, Anon changed the tapes in his Walkman for the journey home. He had only stepped about four feet into the main room before the door SLAMED behind him loud enough to make him exclaim.

The slam resonated through the house and then faded into silence.

Anon was shaken, but he pressed forward. Floorboards squeaked with every step, which was the only thing that could be heard other than his own breathing. He was looking about at his surroundings, which mostly consisted of old mahogany furnishings that had gone long unmaintained, chairs and sofas covered in sheets, and wallpaper that was once a dark green now faded and peeling. Anon was fairly impressed by this place. ‘How have I not seen this before?’ he thought to himself. ‘This is incredible!’

His thoughts were cut short by very clear female voices coming from a corridor behind him.

“I told you so many times NOT to mess around with the cauldron while someone’s using it!” said the first voice firmly, which sounded like that of a teenager’s.

“I’m sorry, Winnie.” said the second voice sadly, which sounded like that of a small child’s.

The voices were approaching fast, and Anon needed to hide! He quickly dove behind the sheet-draped sofa, and laid prone on the floor; his heart was pounding. “Okay,” said the older of the voices, “I’ll let you off the hook for being adorable, Tanis. You--” The voice was cut off and sounds of sniffing was heard. “Hey, ya smell that?” said the older voice. “Smell what?” said what Anon assumed to be the one named ‘Tanis’. The sniffing sound continued. “It smells like a new visitor.” said the older voice suspiciously.

Anon had an idea--it meant sacrificing his Walkman and one tape, but it would serve as a distraction. Trembling, he wrapped the headphone cord around his stereo, turned it up to top volume, pressed play, and tossed it into the corridor that the voices had just exited. It skittered a short ways into the passage while “BILLY--BILLY, DON’T YOU LOSE MY NUMBER” blared from the headphones. “‘COS YOU’RE NOT ANYWHERE THAT I CAN FIND YOU” they sang, and this was obviously heard by the two individuals in the room, who ran in the direction of the sound.

It was go time! Anon got to his feet and bolted to the exit, however he didn’t make it very far. The floor gave out underneath him, and he pitched himself forward into the dark. He felt like he was flying for a few moments, and then he fell hard on his back onto a concrete floor, and the feet of another individual. “Mein gott!” exclaimed a joyous female voice with, oddly enough, a thick German accent. “Ze heavens have opened and dropped down a new test subject!” Before Anon could move, he was grabbed and pulled up off his feet by his jacket collar and turned to face... Frankenstein’s daughter? “Oh, and he’s CUTE, too! I have some plans for you, mein Schatz!” Anon thrashed to the right and slipped free of Franken-Girl’s death grip and began to run again. Being disoriented after his flight through the dark didn’t help him here, as he ran straight into the concrete wall, missing the exit by one whole yard. Anon saw stars, and then saw and heard nothing more.

When he came back to consciousness, he was lying on a ratty loveseat with a sore face, a bag of ice on his head, and a few bloody tissues on the coffee table adjacent to him--that’s when he realized his nose was oozing blood slightly. He sat up, took one of the least-bloody tissues, and wiped away the blood. Sniffling whatever else was coming out back up, Anon found his rucksack and Walkman on the table as well, the headphones still wrapped tightly around it. He reached over to grab both, when a shrill voice yelled “HEY EVERYONE, HE’S AWAKE!” This made Anon jump and land with enough downward force to slightly crack the loveseat’s frame. “I’m sorry, did I scare you?” said the childlike voice that he’d heard earlier. He turned, and saw that the voice belonged to a girl that, judging by her height, would be about six or seven years-old; he couldn’t really tell her age because she was completely clad in cotton wrappings that were wrapped in such a fashion that they made a small dress. A pink bow sat neatly on her head, and bright blue eyes gazed almost apologetically at Anon through the wrappings.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!! Good one, Tanis!” Cackled another voice--the kind of voice that one would hear from a girl who’d been in a padded room for some time. “I wasn’t joking!” said Tanis indignantly to nobody. “Yeah, sure you weren’t,” said the new voice sarcastically, as the figure of another girl materialized through the wall in front of Anon, who gawked at her without a word. This girl, levitating, translucent blue, and clad in a tattered dress and go-go boots noticed Anon’s expression, and simply blushed a noticeable purple hue. “I know I’m cute,” she giggled, “but you haven’t seen anything yet!” She used her free hand to style her streaked hair, which for some reason made Anon think of the toothpaste he used back home.

“Yeah, don’t waste your good eyesight on her, give this a gander!” said another voice coming from Anon’s right. Perched like a parrot on the armrest of the loveseat was something that could be described as a bipedal puppy wearing flannel shirt and a ginger wig. Her yellow eyes stared inquisitivley at Anon, as if saying ‘I want you to pet me and love me!’

Anon had a feeling inside him that he assumed was him going insane--but it wasn’t going to stop there, as ‘Franken-Girl’ had strode in. “Hello, mein liebling!” she said in that thick German accent, “I’ve made something to help you feel better!” She was carrying a tray that had a single glass sitting on it; it was filled with a bubbling, lime green-colored substance that didn’t look at all appetizing. Neither did the girl carrying it--she was gangly, about eight feet tall (seven, if it weren’t for the platformed wooden sandals she wore), and was dressed in overalls that looked several sizes too small for her, and a tattered and messy smock. Her wild hair had white streaks running through it, and bolts stuck out of her neck that appeared to glow like her present mood, despite her heavy brow being furrowed.

“Don’t try that stuff, sweetie,” said yet another voice from BEHIND Anon. He spun around, and saw an unbelievably attractive girl resting her head and arms on the back of the seat; flawless purple skin, neatly styled hair, maroon cocktail dress, ruby red lips--fangs...? “That stuff’s probably got cyanide in it.” she said seductively. Anon’s head was swimming. He didn’t know what to think--only the weirdest dreams could produce beings like these!

“Tell us,’ said the purple-skinned beauty, who was now sitting RIGHT NEXT to Anon and stroking his chin lightly with her hand, “what’s your name?” Everyone else in the room came closer, their faces displaying great anticipation. He would have said “My name’s Anon” as per usual, but it came out as “Uuuuuhhhhhhhh...”


TO BE CONTINUED