Tales From The Dark: The Ogress of Blackwater Creek.

Ch. 1
Macready was never one to receive visitors. It didn't help that the gas station which he owned was in the middle of a dirt road where civilization couldn’t be seen for miles on end. The main bulk of his income came from either truckers on their way to Memphis, or the locals needing to get their groceries for the week.

Visitors on the other hand were another thing entirely. Typically you only came through Blackwater if you knew the place, which meant you either lived there at one time or you had family or friends in the area . One could probably imagine the shock on Old Macready’s face when he heard the sound of an old putt-putt come to a sickening stall.
The old man peered out the window to see a young man with a two piece suit and a small mustache exit out of the vehicle. It didn't take long to figure that the man was either a businessman probably heading to the bigger cities, or a Pastor trying to find a house of God. whoever the man was he clearly had a look of distraught and frustration on his face and based on the cloud of thick black smoke coming from the front of the vehicle, it wasn’t hard to deduce why.

"Having a little trouble there boy?"

the old man proceeded to walk towards the young man and his car, though his bummed legs made him more or less waddle with a very pronounced gait. the young man looked at Macready and shook his head.

“Oh it’s just this piece of junk, thought it could make a trip cross country. It’ll do fine I said, take a shortcut through Blackwater I said.”

Macready nodded. “Heading to Memphis I take it?”

“Tipton actually, I promised the congregation I’d have a sermon for Sunday worship Figured if I took a shortcut through Blackwater I could cut about half a day’s travel and make it there by tomorrow night. I wasn’t taking it into account that this thing would fall apart on me.”

Macready gave a basic look over the vehicle, a small smile creeped across his face.

“Well you know what your problem is don’t ya boy?”
The young pastor shook his head.

“It’s made in japan.” The Pastor lips slowly stretched into a smile as he began to give a hardy laugh. He then proceeded to take a double take as he seemingly recognized the old man.

“Macready, Old man Macready?”

Macready tilted his head to his side. “Do I know you boy?”

“Joseph, Joseph Cassidy.”

Macready’s mouth slowly dropped as his eyes began to beam in joy and excitement. It was not long before he embraced the young man in a frail attempt at a bear hug.

“Little Joseph Cassidy, I haven’t seen you since you were a wee little lad. Now look at you, a fine strapping young man.”

“I’m still little it seems.” Joseph said with a smile “still a few good inches shorter than the average man. maybe 5ft and 4 in on a good day.”

“Ah could be worse though. You could have rickety old knees like mine.”

“Count your blessings I suppose. For example at least I didn’t break down in the middle of the wilderness.”
Macready nodded. “Well, I might be able to get your vehicle fixed, but you can forget reaching your destination by The Lord’s Day."

Joseph gave a huff in disappointment. “I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that, but nothing to be done I suppose.”

“Well, if you don’t want to miss the assembly, you could always go to the congregation here in Blackwater. The congregation could use some good old fashion truth of God.”

“Really, I’ll have to take you up on that offer. In the meantime, do you happen to a phone I could use?
Macready nodded. “in the back near the restroom, feel free to relive yourself if you need to.”

Once joseph took care of business he thanked Macready for his hospitality.

“I appreciate your generosity.” If I may ask where this congregation is?”
Macready pointed at the woods past Blackwater creek.

“into the woods past the creek through the crooked road, ultimately your best bet’s to walk. Your cars shot, it’s a hassle to bike, and horses get spooked even in the daylight. “

“I can see why.” Joseph said giving a thousand yard stare as he listen to the echoes of the chirping insects. His face grew pale as his lips began to quiver ever so slightly. The change in the young man’s face did not escape Macready’s notice.

“You haven’t taken a step in Blackwater creek sense you were nine years old.”

“I know,” Joseph acknowledged. “I don’t think I can ever forget the last day I stepped near the area.”

“Care to share what happened boy?” Macready asked. “I’ve always been curious as to what made you grow so pale every time you looked at those woods. .

“It’s a long story for a long night. Care to spend it?”

Macready gave a grin. “I’m an old man who doesn’t have much time to spend, but I’m always willing to lend an ear to a good old tale.”

Macready proceeded to pull up a couple of creaking chairs, offering joseph a pipe and a light. Joseph declined the offer however. “I’m not one to smoke, however if you could spare a lamp I’d be grateful.

Macready once again gave a grin. “Ah so it’s that kind of a story eh? Say no more.”

Macready went to the back of the store and grabbed a lamp. Joseph lit it and sat it down as Macready lit a pipe.
“When momma died of breast cancer, me and my brothers were sent to Blackwater with old grandma, God rest her soul. She may have raised a few wild boys, but she wasn’t willing to raise fools. Stay away from the old woods she’d tell us. You never know when an old boar may charge you or worse. Course we never took Grandma’s warnings seriously we were just a few dumb old boys.

One day my brothers and I decided to go frog hunting in the creek. We took a couple of Beebe guns and some old flashlights. I of course was the youngest and most cowardly of them all. My eldest as is tradition it seems among kin, would take the time to tease me and mock me for being afraid.

"You know about the ogress in the woods, don’t you? taller than a man in fact over six feet tall, her hair is red with the blood of slaughtered piglets, mangled and tangled like a lion’s mane, They say she’s so strong she can break the back of a wild boar, but no one knows what she truly looks like, for she wears a mask of stitched up pigskin, twisted to look like the facsimile of a wild boar, but worst of all, she’s said to snatch up little boys, small…terrified…little boys…like you.”

On cue the middle of us would jump from behind the bush, and as predictable as I was, I cried and wailed. My brothers however would not laugh for long, for suddenly from within the woods we heard what I can only describe as a wail or a shriek. We couldn’t tell if it was a boar or maybe a coyote. My eldest decided to investigate it. Armed with little with his rifle and a flashlight, he ventured in the woods. He couldn’t have been gone for more than a few minutes before suddenly there was a loud shriek. My brother emerged from the foliage. His skin was pale his eyes wide with feared. His legs carried him faster than any man or beast I had seen. A single word emerged from his lips, though it came out as little more than a shout or cry.

He simply said “Run!”

I don’t know why I didn’t follow my brothers that day. Perhaps I felt I had something to prove. Perhaps I wanted to one up my siblings, but for whatever reason, I turned the other way towards the sound with little more than my rifle and flashlight by my side. That’s when I saw her, or maybe perhaps that’s when she found me. I remember it as clear as day. She stood at a little over 6 feet tall. Broad at the shoulders, a bit narrow in the hip. Her hair was mangled in twisted like the main of a wild lion; its hue was as red as the color of blood. She reeked of death, her face emotionless, covered by a stitched up mask made of pig skin twisted in a facsimile of a boar.










She crouched down inches from my face before giving me a slight snarl. I ran, I ran until my legs and willpower could carry me no further. But still I heard her yells echoing in my ear. What little life I had flashed before my eyes and I wept. I wept for not listening to grandma, I wept for being such a foolhardy child. Surly the ogress would devour my flesh and throw my bones onto the bank as a warning for anyone who dared enter those woods at night. I found myself seeing the songs of my ancestors. It was a song my grandmother sang to me just as her mother sung to her.

As I was a-walking down by st. Peter's Hospital
I was a-walking down by there one day
What should I spy but a young bloodied yankee all wrapped in flannel
Skin cold as the clay
I asked him what ailed him
I asked him what failed him
I asked him the cause of his look of dismay
It’s all on account of dear pale maiden Lily
Tis she that has caused me to weep and lament
And had she but told me before she disowned me.
Had she but told me of it in time. I might not have gone and carried the musket
But now I'm a solider cut down in of my prime.
Get my dear brothers to carry my coffin.
get my dear sisters to sing me a song
And each of them make mine a closed iron casket
so they don't weep as they bear me along.
Don't muffle your drums and play your horns proudly.
Lay a quick march as you carry me along
And fire your bright muskets all over my coffin.
'Sayin' there goes an Unfortunate Lad to his home


For but a moment there was silence and I thought for a second that maybe the terror was over, but when I turned around I saw myself staring into feral eyes, not that of any ogress, but of that of a feral boar. I turned to run, but I tripped over a branch, squealing in pain as the beast clamped on my leg. I tried to fight, God knows I tried. But it seemed like the more I fought, the tighter the boar’s vice became. I prayed to the Lord and I cried.

“God, God please have mercy on this wicked child, if it be your will I know that you can save me from the jaws of the boar just as you saved Daniel from the Den of the great lions.”

I gave out one final squeal, closing my eyes and accepting whatever fate the Lord deemed fitting. Suddenly the vice grip of the boar began to loosen and it seemingly gave a loud squeal. I looked up and there was the ogress her arms wrapped around the boar. The Boar fought hard but the ogress fought harder, squeezing tighter and tighter till a loud snap echoed through the woods. The boar fell limp as the Ogress dropped it to the ground. She then slowly walked over to me before standing there motionless. I had no idea how to react. Had this ogress, this girl that looked as though she were spawned by the devil himself actually saved my life? Had God sent her to save me from the jaws of the boar?

Looking to my left I saw a single yellow dandelion a single ray of moonlight shined upon it as if the Lord himself were telling me to take it. Without so much as a word I plucked it and held it up to her, my palms shook and sweated fearful of how she might react. To my surprise however she simply knelt down and took it. I could almost swear I saw a smile form from her lips. The sound of my grandma’s voice rang through the woods as she called my name.

The Ogress ran deep into the underbrush dragging the corpse of the boar behind her with one hand while carrying the dandelion in the other not a second later my grandmother emerged armed with a shotgun, my brothers walked behind her as if they were baby ducks following their mothers. Through grit and tears I sobbed, telling grandma of what had happened. She however would not say a word. When I came of age, I was baptized and dedicated my life to the Lord, and I moved to the city to make my fortune. I haven’t stepped near Blackwater Creek since, fifteen years to the day in fact. The funny thing is. I know for a fact that this ogress was not a woman but a child.”

Joseph chuckled. “I know I sound mad, a mere child standing taller than a man and strong enough to drag a boar with one hand, but it’s true I could tell she must not have been much older than I was. I have to wonder if she was that tall and mighty at such a young age, how much more she would be once reaching full maturity. I would not blame you if you do not believe me. I can only give you my word”

Joseph gave another small chuckle only to find that Macready was not laughing. No in fact his face gave a look of wonder perhaps even horror. He quickly got out of his seat and turned the other way, muttering with excitement as if new life had been given to him.

“What is it?” Joseph asked following behind the old man.

“Every year since you left, every year without fail, in fact not even an hour before you came.”

“What do you mean?” Joseph asked.

Macready directed him to the house in which his grandmother had raised him. Joseph was stunned at what was before him, for on the back porch was the carcass of a boar and a pile of dandelions.
 
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ATP

Well-known member
YESSSSSS !!!!!! Joseph would get cute waifu !!!! Dear author,you are genius.Please continue.
P.S of course,as good christian he would baptise and marry het before doing lewd things,like kissing !
 
YESSSSSS !!!!!! Joseph would get cute waifu !!!! Dear author,you are genius.Please continue.
P.S of course,as good christian he would baptise and marry het before doing lewd things,like kissing !

honestly in hindsight givin the population of the sietch it may be best just for me to leave it on this note.
 

ATP

Well-known member
honestly in hindsight givin the population of the sietch it may be best just for me to leave it on this note.
Please no,i love stories with good end.Like most people here.And what could be better end then young pastor with cute ogre waifu ?
P.S In reality she must be Macready cousin with some problems,and mostly normal human.I undarstandt,that ogress is just title.And i bet,that his granma knew all about that.
 
the extended story I have in mind does have some organized religion bashing (though aesthetically the villain looks to be an amalgamation of a few different faiths) there is a scene where the two share a brief liplock (think princess bride) so if you think that's lewd....I don't know what to tell you.

the ogress is not his cousin. I maybe a little depraved but I'm not from Alabama :p. She's also not exacly cute as I based her off of a mix of legendary English wrestler Giant Haystacks and Sandy Allen aka the tallest American woman to ever live.





So she's basically an American version of Fezzik from the Princess Bride.

A little backstory this story was actually inspired by two stories.

The Backwater Gospel: By Bo Mathorne


&

The Man in the Woods: By Bray Wyatt (Yes Bray Wyatt the wrestler)


the Backwater Gospel won't show it's influence till later chapters but you'll definitely see The Man in the Wood's influence.
 
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ATP

Well-known member
Sandy Allen was sick.And certainly have no superhuman strenght.But i read about some american dude working in 19th century circus,who was 2m30cm high and could lift 500kg.
So,she could be tall and strong withouth being supernatural.
P.S what is wrong with Alabama people loving their familes ? /joke!!!!!/
 

Bear Ribs

Well-known member
P.S what is wrong with Alabama people loving their familes ? /joke!!!!!/
Not actually common as implied, the thing is that some families in the Appalachians settled there 250 years ago, and there's been relatively little immigration since, so there are areas in those mountains where you can find two hundred families spread across a wide area that all have the same last name. When people out-of-state see lists of marriages all with the same last name they conclude that incest is involved, not realizing that said people merely share a common ancestor eight or ten generations back which most married couples actually do. It's merely that certain unusual last names are actually really common specifically in the Appalachians. I lived near an area called Siam Valley near the Cumberland Gap, and in that area I had at least a dozen friends and business partners with the last name "Lyons" who didn't know of any relationship to each other. I recall a couple of marriages I attended where both spouses had the last name Lyons and the wife didn't need to change her last name even though they weren't what anybody else would call related.
 
Ch. 2
Joseph put on his proper attire as he grew excited at the thought of visiting the place in which he grew up. "I wonder how the place has changed. Does Mrs. Pike still have her bakery next to the old fountain?"

Despite Joseph's giddiness, Mcready didn't seem near as enthused.

"What's wrong." Joseph asked.

Macready let out a long melancholy sigh as he place a frail hand on Joseph's shoulder. "I think you'll find a lot of things have changed around Blackwater and not for the better."

Joseph gave a slight grin. "What, did everyone become city slickers like me?"

"No, trust me city slickers I can deal with, remember when you were little your brothers use t call blackwater the city that never rained?"

Joseph nodded. "First time I ever saw rain was when I moved to the big city."

"Well, that changed recently; a few years ago there was a big pour, bought so much rain it nearly flooded the whole darn place. Got a pretty average rain cycle now."

"That's great, Maybe stuff can actually grow for once."

"Supposedly it was thanks to a rainmaker that came through town. Supposedly he talked to God to make it rain. When the first drops fell the town rejoiced, and the man established himself as essentially the town elder and minister."

Joseph's eyebrow lifted slightly. "No one else teaches?"

"some have, but it seems like of anyone says anything that this Rain man doesn’t approve of, he’s shunned by the people at large."

Macready let out another sigh. "I'll confess Brother. I've not stepped in God's house since the Rain Man took over."

Joseph put his arm around Macready’s shoulder. A sad but assuring look stayed on his face. "hoping I’d bring some reason to the town?"

Macready nodded. "Pray for my soul also if you can. I’ve not stepped in God’s house in over five years, Not since the Rain Man came. We’re not on speaking terms”

Joseph nodded and bowed his head.

Father who art in heaven.

Holy is thy name

We ask for grace as we confess our failings

and we pray that so that you may deliver us from sin and Temptation

These things we pray in the holy name of Jesus

Amen,

Joseph proceeded to strap on a gold watch. Macready grinned as he took notice.

"Struck it rich boy?"

Joseph chuckled. "Admittedly yes, but this belonged to my Grandfather. Grandma passed it on to me before I headed out to the city. Said apparently old gramps got won it in an unsanctioned boxing match. While he was in New Orleans, Apparently he had a heck of a right hand. According to her, grandpa wanted me to have it the moment he held me in his arms, but he died before he had the chance to give it to me."

"In that case boy, you need to be extra careful. Some people care more for gold than sentimentalism."

"In Blackwater?" Joseph's face curled into a look of disgust and disbelief. "People I knew would give you the shirt off your back first."

"Like I said boy, things have changed. Truth is. Blackwater Creek maybe one of the safest places to be right now."

Joseph nodded but his face reeked of uncertainty. "Noted, in the meantime I'll go walk the path creek so that I'll know where to go for Sunday. Rather not get lost."

"Godspeed Joseph. Please.”

The winding path of woods seemed just as unnerving as joseph remembered. The trees seemed to contort in unnatural ways. The branches at times appeared to form long clawed hands while the knots and holes in trunks created facsimiles of faces, while the sounds of crickets gave the place a haunting presence He couldn’t help but shiver. He hated to feel like that nine year old child all over again, but as the old saying went. “Old habits die hard.”

The young man looked at the black bubbling tar creek that gave Blackwater its name. He couldn’t help but chuckle thinking what he might have been like as a child had he been told of the La Brea Tar Pits. Knowing him, he would have had nightmares about being sucked into the pits never to return. In truth, there might have been merit for such a fear. It was not hard to imagine a horse or a small child sinking to their doom, probably all the more reason why people didn't take horses through here. No doubt that a number of hogs had probably undoubtedly faced a black grave as well.

Joseph's thoughts however were interrupted by the sound of what could only be described as chopping wood. He followed the echo of the sound till between the cracks of several trees he saw what appeared to be a wooden cabin. On the doorstep were two ungodly large beast, both of them pure white in color. One Joseph could make out to be a Saint Bernard, the other one he wasn’t quite sure of.

his eyes widened once he saw a large figure splitting logs with a large iron hatchet. the figure was that of a woman with proportions that could only be described as that of the burliest of wild men, and a stature that would be fitting for a daughter of goliath.

For a split second, Joseph's eyes once again flashed before his eyes. There was no doubt in his mind that this was his ogress, and she was even bigger since they last met. Joseph felt himself tumble backwards as the ogress sharply turned her head in his direction. When he got up however the ogress was gone as were the dogs.

Had he just imagined things? No of course not. More than likely she had simply went inside. A thought came to his mind. Perhaps he should introduce himself formally. Perhaps ask a bit about her; maybe even ask what her side of the story was that faithful night?

He quickly talked himself out of it. In truth he wasn’t convinced she had the mental capacity to be social. After all, what kind of person would openly leave the carcasses of dead animals on someone’s doorstep except for someone who wasn’t all there upstairs? Besides, he had a task at hand.

The twisted path finally seemed to break as a light pierced from the opening on the outside. The church building soon came into view. In truth it was hard to miss. the building was for all intents and purposes a miniature Cathedral with white marble walls, and gold leafed edges on the top of the building was the shape of three crosses and at the top of the door way underneath them was the an insignia of a snake wrapped around a staff. Joseph took a step back. When would Blackwater have had the money to pay for such an extravagant building? Many among the town were of religious Sprit true, but Catholicism in all its physical splendor had fell out of favor in the town during the War Between the States. Even then, nothing about the symbols screamed catholic. if anything the imagery was a bizarre amalgamation of Jewish, Christian, and who knew what else

On the steps of the mini Cathedral, an old man was hammering something on the entrance doors. Joseph cocked his head. His garb looked in a way that Joseph couldn’t describe. It was a robe of purple and gold with scribbles of phrases, most likely holy scripture written and what mostly likely was Latin.

“Excuse me?” Joseph spoke in a timid tone.

There was no response.

“Excuse me” Joseph said louder.

the man turned around. His appearance was just as off-putting as his garb. His teeth were crooked and uneven sharp, his nose was sharp and hooked almost like that of a vulture. his eyes were blank and beady almost like that of a shark or a doll. His skin was somehow both simultaneously stretched and sagging with his cheekbones gaunt and ghoul-like. Again Joseph couldn’t help but shiver a bit.

“Ah, hello young man, have you come to pay your respects to the Lord?”

“Yes, I was originally going to go to Tipton, but my car broke down and so my friend directed me here. I wanted to scout the place so that I don’t get lost.”

“Well know the Lord will always welcome you my son.” the man gave a bony outstretched hand.

“My name is Father Ethel, but some people around here refer to me as The Rain Man.”

“Father Ethel?”

“Is something wrong my son?”

“Nothing, it’s just nobody here has referred any Pastor as Father or even Reverend since the Civil War. But I haven’t been here and years. Perhaps things have changed. Why do they call you the rain man?”

Ethel smiled. “Five years ago the Lord gave me a vision of a town in need. On his command and lo I learned that you needed rain. So I prayed. I prayed for three days and three nights, and lo the rain came. The Lord gave me a vision telling me that the town needed a Shepard and that he chose me to be the vessel of that Shepard. So I am here.”

“I see. Well I am glad to hear that the rain has come. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ethel.”

Ethel’s face twisted into a slight frown, but Joseph paid no heed and turned around toward Blackwater Creek. Ethel then gave a warning. “Be careful when venturing into the woods my son. Ruffians lurk, and a demon inhabits it.

Joseph turned his head slightly and stopped. “A demon you say?”

“Yes, it inhabits the body of a woman. It gives her inhuman strength and makes her much larger than any woman should. She reacts with the mind of the dog. Be warned, less you fall into her horrible clutches.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

With that, Joseph walked off. “Demon woman my foot.”
 

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