Prologue: Oct. 30, 1906. It was a warm evening in the backwoods of Southeastern Tennessee. The only sounds being made were by hounds after an escaped convict. The prisoner was going to be killed by a relatively young method, the electric chair. The man escaped with only a note left behind saying "To you who thought you could contain me, stop me, restrain me, you were wrong, I am free to roam. I have a need to kill. Send the hounds, send all the men you can, but you cannot catch me in time to stop the massacre."
Once the note was found, an immediate man-hunt began. All the deputies, sheriffs, guards and hounds were dispatched. They warned the townspeople to be on the lookout for a man whose defining feature was the hook which replaced his hand. The hand which had been lost in the man's younger years.
Into the woods the possy went, deeper and deeper. After hours upon hours, the hounds finally had him at bay at the edge of a cliff. The convict had a decision to make. Jump and hope the fall wasn't enough to kill him, or be turned in to the prison to face death. One option had death as a certainty, one did not. He cried the words "ad mortem!" (Latin for "To death!") He turned and jumped. The hounds lost the scent, the search was delayed until morning.
The next day, the possy went to the cliff where the convict jumped. As the sheriff peered over, there was a drop of at least 80 feet, the sides of the cliff as smooth as a baby's behind. A body was never found. Over the next several months a string of murders swept across the middle South and struck fear in the hearts of everyone. The brutality and frequency of the killings amassed in a way that left the South gripped in fear until Oct. 30, 1916, ten years after the incident. Deaths have occurred at random around parts of the south on Oct. 31 every year since then, with no culprit ever being found....
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Oct 31, 1998
A young couple was driving down a country pike one night after attending a halloween party. The husband dressed as a raggedy corpse much like you would find at the turn of the century. The wife, in a costume meant to "save lives." (shall we say... skimpy nurse, for effect). The two were talking, having a casual conversation about politics, weather, small talk. The husband caught something out of the corner of his eye and slammed on the brakes. It was a deer, a fine specimen, too, rare around these parts for this period of time. The husband and wife watched as it slowly made it's way across the road. The husband was about to begin driving again but noticed another deer, and another. Soon a herd of about 9 of the majestic animals were sitting in the middle of the road. The husband honked his horn, the deer became spooked, and scattered... The husband put the car into gear and began driving once again...
The conversation had picked up again, this time about food, what they were going to eat when they got home, neither of them had anything to eat at the party. The drive was smooth, as the wife told a crude joke, the husband began to laugh and took his eyes off the road. This was long enough for him to not notice the mass beginning to form in the headlights. The husband put his eyes on the road just in time to see a deer, a large buck. The car smashed into it at full speed....
After the accident, the couple was shocked at what had happened. They sat in silence for a few minutes before the husband said "I'm going to look for the deer, I'm going to inspect the damage done to the car, too." The husband got out, the only light coming from the one good illuminated Halogen bulb in the front of the car. The wife waited as the man searched around, she thought he seemed perplexed. The husband entered the car again. "The deer isn't there, no blood, no fur, no trace at all. The car is beat up pretty badly, though, I checked the engine: The transmission is out, so is one light and the brake fluid is leaking out. We're staying here for a while, get out your cell and call a tow truck......"
(To be continued)
