A Town's Nightmare

By Alan R. Martin

Pastor Albert mentioned a minister who was slain in 1846 during the proclamation of changing religious beliefs. He was educated and tortured during his departure. The man changed indoctrination during his tenure. He went from Catholic to Protestant. This was when the frightful adventure started, in 1847, and his name was Pastor Matthew.

Hendrick Elias Leckner was a former pastor of the Catholic faith, the one who made a pact with the devil.

"If someone changed their faith, then I give intermission for the devil to extinguish ten people in a two-week period every ten years."

And he sold his soul for this admonishment, an agreement between him and the devil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 6, 2022
• ISBN: 9781684985296

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A Town's Nightmare

Alan R. Martin

Copyright © 2022 Alan R. Martin

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-68498-528-9 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-68498-529-6 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Cast of Characters

Chapter 1

A frothy coolness was shuttling its way through a small mill setting, while it was blowing, as it went through the open emptiness of a small secluded town. The brightness was soothing as it appeared its projection while peeking through the clouds above, showing a dismal airiness, and as the chilling spirit was depicting the townspeople's eventfulness, a somberness started as its color of warlikeness was being evaded. So it was said. Showing a peaceful, lively environment while the people went along its discourse, there was no disruption. Here they gingerly engaged in visiting, showing friendship along with their daily active needs.

Trade and bargaining along with their family and friends were usually a topic when they were speaking amongst their fellow neighbors. These people knew one another, and their course of action would try to engulf themselves into getting a better deal. This recording and settings were in or around about in the year 1857. The day was Saturday, April 4. This discovery in those days, at least the writings on a paper, was discovered later in the archives of a newspaper office inside of its allocation; a sense of distraught with sorrowless was the headlines. The story told about a murder being investigated at the butcher shop, and there would be responses at a later time. This unusual but distinctive and secretive way of not knowing where this story came from was disenfranchised. Not wanting any calamity to be brought up from the growth of its repetition, the townspeople downplayed its past secrets. The few who witnessed this is still around. This was a simple town where farmers who grew crops and had dairy farms were content with their livelihood. And others who had livestock of cattle would trade with the farmers on a monthly basis. And there were still others in the fishery business, along with tradesmen. They would, in turn, sell or trade their products to the people who had general stores, any sort of restaurants, and families that came out to dicker, still awaiting in town. Occasionally the farmers and cattlemen would need work done on their equipment, and of course, this was usually done on trade.

This was typical, and sometimes it was done more than once a week, depending on the time of year. If their equipment failed and, of course, of what their needs were, sometimes it yielded a consequence of labor of what the value of their negotiation would be. These folks were usually independent of when, where, and how the work would be done.

Casual bargaining was usually done on a corner on the side at the end of a road on the edge of town. The store owners usually had their products delivered to their stores, and business was dealt within there.

This was a natural tradition that the townspeople got used to. They usually bargained trying to make even trades, but there were some who had bits of gold nuggets and silver pieces. Sometimes trading was done at Finney's café during breakfast and coffee, especially when temperatures got cold.

When all the trading was done, they would go back to their homesteads and work on their lands. Others would sometimes just sit and talk with their neighbors in town. And still others went to the saloon. When nightfall came along, you could feel the coolness of the breeze, for it was typical in early spring.

But one night, as peaceful as it was, before the morning dawn, there was something strange that had woken up the citizens who were in town. A suspense of quiet loudness from a distance was noticed. It stirred a few who had not really relaxed from the strain of the day.

Then somewhat suddenly, an unsuspected occurrence happened. There were rumors of gossip. Dismal weaknesses of witnesses were spreading fear throughout the small town's people. Once again, the bleakness of memories had started to unravel. The unknown shock started to reveal itself toward the townspeople. A quaint disturbance was forming.

During the previous evening when they saw the proprietor, an old man who owned a butcher shop and his demoralized corpse was hanging in a barn with his eyes cut out from the sockets of his lids. The storekeeper's wife found him when she woke up the town with chilling screams. Echoing shrieks, you could hear for miles around. And there was this stupefied feeling showing on the faces of those when the scream was shouted!

What next!

The prominent citizens were running to see what all the excitement was all about! The horror of glancing at a man hanging from the rafters with his hollow eye sockets covered with black-and-blue rings and dry reddish blood sticking to his cheeks sent chills of shock.

This frightening surge circling within the minds of people was beyond measure. Repeated stories brought to the surface the anguish pain that had happened from years past. These secrets were passed from one to another. And each time it was told, they seemed to stretch it out of its context, the true outline of the original story.

This feverish animosity was being projected, and the date of when this started was April 5, of how the tale came out of the dark to rise from its ghastly torture chamber. A doubtful seclusion was wondering when will the atrocity begin its malignant allegories.

This storybook has been closed for ten-years now. With a whim, it comes out of the dark! Somehow this offense has brought back to life the fable of what happened ten years back!

A dark, somberly coolness had formed that early morning. A foggy mist began to appear as rising vapor took over the surrounding area.

This gaseous moistening fume was from the river and lakes where lingering streams of floating sentiments began to settle its entrails along the inner edges of town. A sticky, slimy greenish tinted substance was forming and collecting its molten mossy tar on the northern side of buildings and stones.

And when the sun came out, it would stick and stain its color, causing the structures to look depreciated and old.

This old town they called Riverwoods was situated on the west side of a tremendous hill and mountainside which stretched across as far as the eye could see. And the river was running parallel along the east side of town, and lakes and streams branched off to the north and south areas from where the town was located.

The whole landscape was full of different types of foliage—bushes, red ferns, and trees but mostly good, strong oak and pines. There were only two main streets passing through, and they crisscrossed at an intersection. Any other roads were alleys that passed by between neighboring buildings.

There was a spinning undershot waterwheel on the side of the mill, and it was still operational, performing energy for wood products that needed logs cut.

This mill was still being used on a weekly basis for purchases of sawed and ripped logs for fences. The carpenters and loggers would bring them in for building materials.

They trenched a constant flushing current from the river to the headrace, initiating the force to move the spinning-wheel in its convex blades. The water would leave by the tailrace, and a weir was used as a reservoir to hold and catch the excess silt. This operational mill, with enough force, would create enough power to turn the gearwheels and cogs to spin the saw blades.

The wandering townspeople, after that dramatic scene from last night, found themselves in a shattering despondency. Their distorted anxiety took place, admitting to each other they had a hard time sleeping.

Some had said, What sleep? I was so terrified I didn't even close my eyes once! Not once!

The citizens of the community were standing inside and outside of Finney's café discussing the trauma of what happened the night before while trying to stomach a breakfast that his cook and waitress were offering.

This small tightly knit town had a population of 327 people. Across Main Street, at the corner of Second Street, there were others at the saloon. There was a constable with one temporary deputy and a mayor. They also managed to have three respectable city-council members. Each one was original landowners from the beginning.

This sullen, depressed atmosphere had one person looking at the other! There they were, still in shock of what happened last night.

Then the ordinary glimpse to one another led each other to gaze with more suspicion as the tension grew.

The preacher, who was appointed judge—they called him good old Albert—since he had some experience with the law, blared in, I see the misleading looks you are giving to each other, and this paranoia needs to stop, or we'll drive each other crazy.

We must wait and look upon the facts, he told them. Kelly, the sheriff, with the appointed mayor Thomas, is still investigating the barn as we're speaking.

One of them blurted out, Where's Lonnie and Doc at?

Oh, he's with them too. If they need some assistance or help, I'm sure they'll let us know. So I say let's see what they find out! We know one thing. There is a murderer amongst us!

Young Margery, with her eyes coolly calmed, piped in and asked, Does anybody want some more coffee while I'm taking orders?

The womenfolk were sitting or standing by their husbands and friends, wondering what to do next.

The children were running around playing outside, not understanding the situation the town was in, and the younger ones were either hanging on their mother or crawling on the floor. Many were so beyond themselves they even asked Margery if she needed any help.

Finney shouted to the cook, Let's fix enough to feed everyone here, for I don't think anybody is going anywhere until the constable comes back.

The widow, with her only daughter, was still dismayed about the whole horrifying event.

Their emotional despair had withered them out through the long, despondent night.

One of the older women came up to Helen and her daughter, asking, How are you two faring out? For I feel for your loss of Gerald like that.

Another told the old woman, Shut up. Don't mention anything like that. She already feels bad enough.

Then the old woman glared at her and whispered, You're not helping either, so you may want to mind your own business.

Then Albert interrupted them, Now, ladies, calm down. We have all been going through the same terrible ordeal, but be respectful for Helen's sake.

She was just sitting there in disbelief, with her hand holding Joni's hand, staring across the room in a daze.

Then Finney asked Helen and Joni, her daughter, if there was anything he could get them. He offered a breakfast plate with eggs, bacon, and toast. Helen sat there motionless.

Joni just looked at her mother, then at Finney, and said, No, thanks.

Some of the menfolk were in the corner next to the side door leading to the alley. They were gathered together to talk about the incident that happened last night.

Harvey and Andrew were talking about the horror of what happened ten years back. Harvey described the toll it took on the people that were here, and Andrew would butt in occasionally, remembering the terror that was witnessed then!

They both looked upon those listening to the story. You could tell those observing the tales were shocked. All couldn't imagine what transpired. It was as though it was starting all over again! And the group was horrified by the fable.

The townspeople, with curiosity and excitement, were listening to every word being said. Andrew was telling how the first one got murdered in the same fashion as Gerald.

Finney overheard and told them, You need to take it outside for respect to Helen and Joni.

They all glanced at Helen and obliged.

Finney was there when it all started ten years back, and he knew how gruesome the fable of the story could get.

He also remembered that Albert was not with the initial group that witnessed this horror. His memory was shaken remembering the mutilated murders that took place and realized there was no one accused for the victims that suffered and were murdered through that period.

His mind began to flash back to the horrific events that took place. It took him into a terrifying dream!

Watching an occurrence of each vicious death in that unresponsive two-week span that shook the whole town was a divisive evil plot that had the people nervously in fear! He thought it was as if a ghost or the devil himself had visited the town for a short while!

The chills began to run in his thoughts as he mumbled to himself, I hope it's not a repeat of what happened ten years back!

A tap on the shoulder from behind brought him out of his stupor when Margery asked, Are you all right, Mr. Finney?

He turned frantically and surprised her when he said, Oh, it's you, Margery. What do you need?

She responded calmly and asked, Would you like some breakfast too?

He told her, No, thanks. I'm not hungry.

She looked surprised and turned around and went over to the women in the café, and they started talking about when the sheriff and Thomas would get back.

As they looked at the clock on the wall, the hands showed it was eleven-thirty this morning.

*****

Inside the barn, while examining the details of the murderous scene, Lonnie found a jar full of pickled eggs; and floating toward the