The School House

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic


This story is about religion and the factions that are aware. Many people follow many sects. Some are not meant to be.

Submitted: July 23, 2018

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Submitted: July 23, 2018

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Haddid sat in the back of the class in the rural part of America. For the people outside the community of Grace Falls, no one knows that this town exists. The last person that knows of the town of Grace Falls came by the name of Clint Walker. Clint Walker is a man that came from the survey capital of the world. They are a tricky bunch of people that always like to do what they are willing to do when the rich old people from the west want to come and stake their claim in century old traditions. Rule number six in the Good Book is an option. It is a triumph and true option against deviants and the sinners. Clint Walker didn’t have a family where he lives. It is easy to smear him off the face of the earth when Haddid, along with the rest of the community buried him underneath the Garden of Hope. It is the best garden that is ever seen in this land of America. It is almost like the Garden of Eden.

Haddid curled his hands around the hand written paper that is on his desk. The assignment from last night is the mythological creatures of the Norse Gods. It is a test. He knows that. The test is coming to the fact that there is only one god in this land of America. That god is the only one God, the true God, and the faithful and almighty God. Haddid knew of the crime that is about to commence when he waited for his teacher to come through the back door.

He couldn’t wait when they are geared to the cleansing that is about to prove that freedom is not free. Haddid made little circles on the bottom of his paper when Isiah sat in the front row with her beautiful golden locks that is draped down her shoulders. He wanted to know her more but his father will have nothing to do with it.

She is unclean! His father by the name of Jebidiah Paul insisted with his finger wagging up and down inside the house that is old as Methuselah.

She came from the unclean part of New York! His father spat out the words with that scrunch of ugliness on his face.

But she is good. She came from a community like us! Haddid shot out when he knew that he made a mistake when it is too late.

You get into your communion box and don’t make me see you come out of there for the rest of the night! You have no other consideration but to pray!

That night, Haddid sat in the room that is under the stairway that is only used for storage. He sat there with only a few candles flickering in the small space that is only shadow. The Good Book is out in front of him when he read the Book of Ruth and the Book of Corinthians in steady pace. That is the only company that he has in the house when he read until he slept in the cove that is only for him.

The next morning, he met his father in the parlor with mother skinning chickens for tonight’s meal. His father looked at him before he snapped his fingers for Haddid to be seated. Jebidiah Paul is a man of figure, a man that can get what is needed to get the job done. He had a beard with the length that comes down to his waist when he coursed to read the paper. He is a man with some calluses on his mind with hot lead running through his heart.

He will not be moved on any uncomfortable occasion. He will not be moved.

“Sit down. We are having eggs and bacon today.” Jebidiah spoke like a tree that has finally has the mechanism and formidable knowledge to talk. His voice sounds like maple and his mind has the experience of the Pharaohs of old.

“What will be the blessing today, father?” Haddid said when mother looked at the both of them, smiling like nothing has ever happened from the night before.

They are a happy family, such a sweet family.

“This blessing is try to be better of the wheat in the field and finer that the grain of sand that is lain in the desert. This life is only one life you lead.”

Haddid knew that but he is only a boy, a nine year old boy who lives in a community of Grace Falls with a couple of other people with some people bringing their children to a more simple place than they can think imaginable. The price for keeping the peace is teaching the sinners all the way.

Haddid felt the paper getting tighter and tighter in his grasp when the paper almost ripped in two. Isiah didn’t recognize him when he looked at the chalkboard that is in front of the one-room school house. The erasers are clean from yesterday when one of the students learned more about the teacher that does not live around here in Grace Falls. The teacher goes by the name of Cynthia Pritchard who has flourished her drunken share with much fornication outside of town longer than any resident can stand in Grace Falls. They learned of these congestions when they found a book in her desk that she left when she trekked back up to Clements to do that color change in her hair.

Women to change their colors are whores. They are all whores, Jezebels, and deceivers in human disguise. They flaunt their flesh to get more in the world than needs. They’re minds are all corrupt. Like the children that have eaten the Forbidden Fruit for far too long. They will have their punishment. They will have their punishment when it is due.

His father created a sermon in the living room. The room holds only a table, radio, two chairs, and a couch. There is no television in the room, no internet out her where they are. No one carries a cell phone when all of the people that live here say that the phones are the impending prodigy of the Devil.

They all live the life close to that being of the Amish. They have plain clothes but they do not follow the lives of other people that have eaten the Forbidden Fruit. They live the life of limited means; living off the land for their limited needs. They make their clothes out of fiber and they look at the stars and make stories with their imagination at night.

They are the residents of Grace Falls when the students waited for the whore of the teacher that should be coming anytime now. The Norse Gods are false gods when Haddid ripped the paper in two and threw it onto the floor. Some of the students looked at him, shrugging when they got back to looking at the front of the one room school house.

“The adults will handle the corruption.” One of the students said when the one student repeated in a chant that is coming to the fold.

“The adults will handle the corruption. The adults will handle the corruption. The adults will handle the corruption.” The one student made two other students drift into the chant that is getting so loud that it is shaking the rafters. The one voice converged into five and the five converged into ten voices. The windows for the one room school house started to rattle into their wooden frames when the chanting is performed louder and louder and louder.

“The adults will handle the corruption! The adults will handle the corruption! The adults will handle the corruption!”

They didn’t know that a red car started to drive up the rutted street that is just near the edge of Grace Falls and turned into the drive that leads up to the one room school house. The wheels of the car clocked back and forth when it neared the building with a young woman driving the car, moving her one hand on the wheel of the car with her wrist tattooed and the smell of whiskey on her breath. She came up to the porch of the school house when she banked the car left to the spot that is only meant for her, skidding the tires to the point where the parking bumper almost hit the rubber when she parked the car.

It took her a while to get out of the car when she almost fell on her face, feeling like she is going to puke when she corrected her v neck shirt so it didn’t show too much of her cleavage. She stood up straight when the shadows of the community fell upon her in fast haste. She didn’t know what was going on when she started to scream.

“What are you doing? What are you doing, you scum! Let me go or I’ll call the police!” She is uprooted from the ground by men and woman both, carrying her with her arms and legs thrashing. They kept them from thrashing when they crossed the land that serves the school house, stomping over the plains with the police courier by the name of Seth Perchance walking the anchor of the mob that has captured one Cynthia Pritchard, one of the whores from the west that wanted to corrupt the town limits of Grace Falls.

“What in the hell do you think you are doing? Do you have any idea who my father is? If you do something to me then hell will come down on this entire hick poor place! You country bumpkins will see the last of Cynthia Pritchard! You will see the last of me when you are through!”

She is right on that statement when they carried her across the plains to the ceremonial ground that is laden in lime rock where nothing grows, not even a hickory seed that lain on the ground when it withered up and died. The rocks are bent on the ground, serving a passageway to the cul-de-sac that is about a half-acre wide with many rocks that serve a communal of something that is found by accident. The rocks form a sequential point of something that will come from another plain of existence that is granted by the one lord that is in the holy grace of Grace Falls.

They started to walk single file when Cynthia’s parading of harassment turned over into a pleading of mercy.

“Please? Is it money that you want? I’ll give you three hundred thousand dollars and you will let me go. I will never come into this town again. No one will know! Please?” Cynthia’s eyes clocked right and left, bulging out of her sockets when her mercy folded over into hate again.

“You sick bastards! What are you going to do with me? What are you going to do?”

The community of men and woman did not say one word when they entered the passageway. The police courier followed behind when he started to shy away. He didn’t want to see what is going to happen in the minutes that come to this.

Haddid still sat in his seat when the chanting in the school house roused higher and higher and higher. The rafters are shaking in the ceiling now. God can even hear all.

“What do you want? What is it that you are doing?”

Someone in the crowd looked up at the backside of Cynthia when they bowed their head before pulling something out of their pocket. It is a sock ball that they prepared before this ritual is commenced when he reached up, grabbing both of her cheeks and putting the sock ball in her mouth. Someone else has a roll of duct tape in their possession when they got to work keeping her mouth closed.

Her screeching turned over into a muffled scratch that is within the passageway of the ceremony. They walked down further and further into the ritual in the limestone cul-de-sac. It is the ritual that is performed by accident when they knew what they would do, what they can do when they witnessed the power of The One.

Cynthia continued to scream muffles through the sock ball that is in her mouth when they reached the end of the passageway. They entered the ritual ground when she looked at the stones that are all around them, stopping her muffled screams when something about them looked wavy, out of place, jagged between space and time when she looked at the sky.

The sky is not blue anymore. The sky is filled with the dark miasma of thunderheads that are swirling about in the growth that is almost menacing. Something came out of that swirl of thunderheads when Cynthia felt like she is transparent past the community that is carrying her. She fell out of the clutches when something came from the sky as the bony dead hand ripped from the cloud to catch her in its almighty grasp.

For a second, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, and couldn’t remember where she was anymore. The hand is over her back when the hand moved her up to the atmosphere that swirled the infinity of darkness. When she meant the rest of what that hand is, she lost all of her sanity when she met the horrendous perchance of a titan that is in the midst of the world of doom. It smiled its millions of teeth and aerated its nasty breath when the hand came closer and closer to that mouth that will swallow her whole.

She didn’t scream but cackle with wild insanity when she is swallowed with nothing left to be absolute to the earthly realm.

On the earth, her body disappeared in the grasp of the community.

“Praise is to all.” The community gathered in chant when they cheered for the whore of the west to be gone as well.

The only possession she has in the world is the little red car that is sitting in the parking stall next to the school house when some of them are burned in the flesh and some of them are consumed in the ritual of ancient old. It is the same ritual that is performed on Easter Island when it is forgotten, so forgotten that it is not scripture in one of the many dark pages on earth that should not be stumbled upon the weak and discontent. The dark pages of these wonders are universal in the minds of the corruption for corrupt endeavors if used in the wrong hands.

Haddid and the rest knew only half of the power that they hold when they started to pray about breaking the ruled that is numbered six of the ten that they should always follow. It is the rule that they should never forget on this day or any day in the years that follow as it rises and falls, rises and falls, rises and falls like the sun and moon that continue long after everyone is all dead and dust. It is the price of life after all.


© Copyright 2019 Adam Steele. All rights reserved.

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