The Light in the Hole (standard:horror, 3593 words)
Author: Chris Herzig	Added: Mar 12 2001	Views/Reads: 3782/2305	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A good hitman gets a raw deal from hell.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

puts another smoke in his mouth and again lights the lighter with one 
stroke. As he puts the lighter to his filtered friend he removes the 
cigarette from his lips, and blows the whiskey hidden in his mouth 
through the flame. 

Mikes hair goes up in flames. Vincent swallows the last bit of whiskey
he kept hidden in his mouth. As quick as lightning and as loud as 
thunder Vincent smashes his forehead through the bridge of Mike’s nose 
breaking it instantly. “You had to run your fucking mouth, didn’t you? 
Didn’t you?” he yelled. Vincent leaned over and lit his cigarette off 
of Mike’s flaming hair, pulled his .45 out and put Mike to bed with a 
shovel. 

As Vincent hoisted Mike’s body on his shoulders he could hear gurgling
coming from Mike’s mouth. He thought it must have been the air being 
forced out from carrying him. Vincent could feel a shallow inhale along 
with a faint wheeze. Mike turns and coughs out  “The shadows, they 
whisper, and now that I’m dead they’ll want you.” He coughs one more 
time then falls dead limp in Vincent’s arms. He tosses the dead body 
carelessly in the back of his car then speeds away to a secluded spot 
in the mountains to dispose of the body. 

Snow started falling heavily as Vincent made his way up the winding
mountain road. Visibility grew worse the farther up he went. Not at all 
tired he yawned to compensate the pressure that had built in his ears 
due to the elevation. Barley visible in his headlights he could see the 
small dirt road that led to Mike’s final resting-place. As he turned he 
could hardly tell which direction the road was travelling. Through the 
blinding storm he could finally see the opening that led to the trail 
he made a day earlier. 

Hoisting Mike’s body again upon his shoulder he noticed the snow let up
to an almost tranquil pace. The trees, void of any leafs had a good 
blanket of white draped across them. At the end of the trail, the woods 
parted exposing an almost perfect twenty-yard circle with no trees in 
it. Vincent laid the body down then back tracked the trail to his car 
and grabbed his shovel, a pickaxe, and two bags of quicklime to cover 
the smell and help decompose the body. As Vincent broke ground the 
pickaxe slid into the earth astonishingly easy. The snow on the ground 
was not melting yet the earth was not frozen. 

He switched to the shovel to work faster when he noticed the soil was
moving. Grabbing his flashlight he could see hundreds of June bug 
larvae squirming in the dirt. “The hell are you boys doing out this 
time of year.” He uttered to himself. Oddly he recalled reading of a 
strip of land in China 1,000 meters by 15 meters that at –30C 
air temperature the land remained at 17C. In fact in the summer 
it would freeze to a depth of thee feet. 

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye he noticed movement darting from
one tree to the next. Pointing his flashlight in that direction 
revealed nothing at all but the seemingly endless darkness of the 
forest. As he turned back to the grave he saw the movement again. This 
time he could tell it was a human shadow. Then out of his other eye he 
could see another. After a moment it seemed to fade out. Then another 
appeared only feet from the last, then another. 

Rushing behind a tree Vincent pulled his guns out waiting to see who the
intruder was. He flipped the thumb switch on his flashlight revealing 
nothing out of the ordinary. Chuckling at his paranoia he lit a 
cigarette and headed back to continue the morbid work of a gravedigger. 
As he rounded the tree his mouth dropped open with the look of shock. 

A twig snapped some fifteen feet from where Vincent crouched. Hitting
his cigarette he felt a cold breath from behind blow across his left 
ear. He quickly turned but nothing was there. A whisper came from 
behind. “Its you.” The soft raspy voice said. Vincent franticly turned 
and swung his elbow around to strike the perpetrator. Again no one was 
there. His hands began to tremble. Maybe he was over worked he thought. 
Maybe he was tired and just didn’t realize it. 

He turned once again towards the body, at this point he just wanted to
get the hell out of there. When the head of the shovel met the ground 
this time it made a terrible clank. The earth was frozen solid. At two 
feet six inches, the hole was nowhere deep enough to bury the dead 
body, so he grabbed the pickaxe. “Its you” the voice said once more, 
this time a little louder and a little clearer. Vincent put his cancer 
stick in his mouth and turned slowly. Upon exhaling, he witnessed the 
single most frightening experience in his entire life. He stood there 
shaking with the feeling of vomit now in his throat. What he had seen 
made his bladder want to let loose, followed by his bowels, if they 
hadn’t already. 

The smoke blowing out his mouth parted a foot in front of him, revealing
the silhouette of a human face. This face unfolding in the smoke was 
the face of Mike. Its eyes began to open. “Its you.” This invisible 
creature spoke. “Its you.” “What the hell do you want with me?” Vincent 
screamed. As the tobacco smoke raised up with the wind he could no 
longer see the figure. “What do you want?” he screamed again. Another 
cold breath raced across his ear from behind making his hair stand on 
end. A translucent figure appeared behind a tree and sprinted straight 
for Vincent. He pulled his 9mm out and fired off three rounds that 
passed through its body and struck the tree behind him. 

The shadow was gaining speed and Vincent went to grapple the monster.
The creature slammed into Vincent, knocking him hard into a tree behind 
him. “What the hell do you want?” he cried. Everything is pitch black 
and a moment of silence passes, and then a rumble starts. A deep rumble 
reminiscent of thunder. It begins to grow louder then focuses into a 
horrendous voice so loud it almost breaks Vincent’s eardrums “We want 
you dead!” His face cringes in pain as he drops to his knees. 

This once vulgar hit man with nerves of rock has been reduced to a
whimpering coward. He begins to crawl around searching for his 
flashlight when he hears a footstep in front of him. He lashes his arms 
out to grab it. Nothing comes into contact with his flying fists. He 
gains his feet and runs full speed for the car. Every unseen branch 
that hits Vincent makes him jump with shock. With his heart racing as 
fast as he was, he reached the car in extreme fatigue. He had never 
been so glad to be on his way home. 

The next morning Vincent awoke thinking the whole thing to be nothing
more than a very realistic nightmare. The thought of hallucinations due 
to stress crossed him mind. The important thing was he had to bury the 
body before any of the locals discovered it. He traced the road to the 
gravesite a little uneasy. As he turned onto Orchard he read a sign he 
had earlier not noticed. Now leaving Redville, population 284, nice 
people live here, the sign read. Vincent smirked at the irony. Off to 
the left he could see a lake with a couple fishermen on rowboats. It 
sounded like a good idea on this unseasonably warm day. 

The car pulled up to the isolated trail he had walked the night before.
The snow had melted off the tree branches and only a trace could be 
found on the ground. As he rounded the corner to the opening he saw 
that everything was still in place from last night. The pickaxe slammed 
into the ground breaking a small chunk of earth out. The morning sun 
has started to thaw the ground so the work would be a little faster to 
complete. So far so good he thought to himself, as he took another 
whack with the pickaxe. 

Vincent had finished by early afternoon and the temperature was now in
the upper 50’s. He loaded the equipment in the back of his car and 
headed back down the dirt road. This time however he turned left onto 
Orchard Street and headed into the center of Redville. He pulled into 
Louie’s gas, bait and lodging to fill the car up. Maybe twenty-five 
yards behind Louie’s he could see an old rundown dock with four 
rowboats tied to the posts. He turned to the gas pump and noticed that 
nothing on it was digital. That seemed to fit he thought as he scanned 
the scenery. 

The town was a living model of a 1920’s mining settlement. The wind
blowing off the lake gave the town the scent of fresh rain all year 
long. Kids could be seen riding old bikes that all seemed to have a 
distinct rust color. The population here had a sub average income witch 
was kind of amazing based on the fact that it was really a beautiful 
community. Most men here were working for Redville Logging until the 
EPA shut them down for chemical dumping. Now a couple run down 
factories support the majority of people here. 

“How we doing today?” a voice rendered from behind the pump. “Pretty
good Louie, how bout yourself?” Vincent replied looking at Louie’s 
weathered face. “Good to have the temperature up that’s for sure. Done 
almost sold out of bait today.” Vincent smiled and handed Louie a 
twenty-dollar bill. “Keep the change my friend.” “Thanks, say, have you 
seen the news crew up near Orchard St? They’ve been down here asking 
questions a couple of times today. Just wanting to know what they 
found.” Vincent looked at him bewilderedly. “No I haven’t seen them. 
Why are they here?” 

“Well” Louie began “about forty years ago an oil crew showed up here to
do some drilling. They drilled miles below the ground; in fact they 
broke some record for the deepest drilling ever to be accomplished. The 
reporters were all over that being nothing really ever happens around 
here. So anyway one day they left and abandoned their equipment. The 
only other thing found there were blood stains surrounding the work 
site.” 

“What do you suppose happened?” Vincent asked. “Well, the rumors began
flying around that they drilled into hell and it drove them insane. 
There were lots of reports of loud screaming and moaning that night. 
Most people here who were around then wont go near the old site out of 
fear for their lives.” Vincent chuckled. “You’re not superstitious now 
are you?” “Nope, not at all, but you still wouldn’t catch me there on a 
dare.” Louie said lightheartedly. “Well thanks for the gas Louie, ill 
catch you later.” “Any time!” Louie replied. 

Vincent rolled up the winding driveway to his cabin admiring the warm
day. After seeing there were no messages on his answering machine he 
decided to get some well-needed sleep. It was still light out so he 
closed the curtains and turned out the lights. A few silent moments 
passed then a knock sounded at the door. Vincent jumped up a little 
startled. He proceeded toward the door then opened it. Vincent’s face 
grew perturbed as he looked at his empty doorway. “Little bastards!” he 
shouted. He thought that was the only bad thing about living here were 
the occasional kids knocking on the door and running away. 

As he lay back down on the sofa sleeper the door cracked with a
thunderous knock that again startled him. He rose up and ran to the 
door in a full sprint sure to catch the kids this time. Again the 
doorway was empty and not a child could be found running for cover. As 
he grasped the knob to close the door a slight shuffle could be heard 
on the driveway. He walked a short distance toward his car hoping it 
had not been tampered with. A gust of wind picked up filling his 
nostrils with the smell of fresh rain. 

“Its you.” A voice whispered from behind directly into his ear. The
color in Vincent’s face drew pale. “Mike?” he stuttered. “Is, is that 
you?” His voice cracked like a teenage boy. After a moment passed 
without a response Vincent headed in to his cabin to find the number of 
a good therapist. As he crossed through the doorway the door slammed 
behind him causing a shooting pain in his ears. “We all play where its 
light all day. Soon you will to.” The voice said. This time the voice 
was much louder and deeper. “What do you want with me?” Vincent yelled. 
“We want you to come play, its light down here you know. Come play with 
us, we’re all waiting.” Vincent leapt towards the door and yanked the 
doorknob but to no avail. Turning, he ran to the window and threw the 
curtains open. What had been daylight moments ago was now night. The 
moon was out and reflected off what you could see of the lake. 

“What the hell is going on? Its only four in the afternoon, how can it
be dark?” He looked over at his alarm clock but the time display was 
blinking the word play. He then threw his fist forward at the window 
but the window didn’t break. He drew his gun and unloaded his cartridge 
and again the window showed no sign of damage. From about ten yards 
away Vincent could see what looked like flashlights moving in the 
distance. “Help me!” he yelled. “Dear god please help me.” One of the 
lights stopped and made its way towards the window. Vincent pressed his 
face on the glass yelling some more. “Help me please.” As the figure 
approached closer Vincent could now see it wasn’t a flashlight after 
all, it was a small light fixed to a hat, a miners hat. “What the 
hell?” he mumbled under his breath. 

The miner looked up at Vincent. He had a blank stare and there appeared
to be boils covering his face. The miner smiled exposing a mouth full 
of sores and only three visible teeth. “Come on and play goddamn you. 
You will you know, play here, you will.” Vincent flung the curtains 
closed and ran for the cellar where he kept a small weapons arsenal. He 
rounded the steps and busted through the cellar door. In the middle of 
the room a solitary chain hung from the ceiling. Vincent pulled it down 
turning an exposed light bulb on. 

In the corner sat an enormous gun rack riddled with an arsenal of
weapons. He ran his sleeve across his face dispersing the beads of 
sweat away from his eyes. “That won’t do you any good.” A voice said 
from behind. Vincent went to turn towards the voice but nothing was 
there. A loud creak echoed from behind the gun rack. It began to shake 
violently. The gun rack then fell blowing a cloud of dust into the air. 
When the dust settled a door was exposed where the rack once stood. 
Vincent rushed to the door looking for any means of salvation. 

As he entered the room his skin grew flush and his eyes started to burn
uncontrollably. The heat emanating from there was as hot as an oven. He 
turned to leave but the doorway no longer existed. He fell to the 
ground in a scorching pain from the heat. He opened his eyes one more 
time unveiling a large hole in the earth. A bright light rose from the 
depths at a blinding potency. His skin started to bubble while his 
breath was impossible to catch. A voice spoke up. “See, I knew you 
would play. We all play.” Vincent rang out in a loud laugh scraping 
charred flesh from his face. There was nothing he could do now. Nothing 
at all, but lay in his blazing tomb and play. Play a game with only one 
rule. If you play, you die. 


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