Help Her

(This is the typed version of a handwritten transcript that I was given access to. The transcript itself is from a voice recording, but I have no idea where that is, or how the person who wrote the transcript obtained it. Due to the sloppiness of the handwriting and some water marks, some of the words are indecipherable, or maybe they were unintelligible from the recording. I cannot go into detail as to how I came across this transcript.)

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My name is Nathan B—–. If you can hear me — I don’t know, if my phone manages to find a connection or someone finds my phone — then you need to know what happened. I’m not sure how long I have. (Rapid breaths, mumbling away from microphone) I’m in the Naval Reserves, okay? I’ve been through basic. And I’m scared right now. I think I’m going to die.

Fuck. Okay. I go to school up in Montreal, but my boyfriend’s in — my boyfriend was in Concord, New Hampshire. We broke up. We broke up over the weekend, which is why I was in Concord in the first place. I thought I was going to have a great time with him this weekend. Friday he was barely looking at me, only talking about the Bruins-Habs game at dinner, not even asking about me or how I was. Went to sleep as soon as we got back to his place. Then he woke up, made toast and told me he wanted to end the relationship. Admitted he’d been sleeping someone else. The fucker.

God damn it, why am I even talking about this? No, wait, it matters. Because I was supposed to stay at his place until Monday, then make the trip back up. Instead I crashed at a buddy’s place on Saturday night, got up early Sunday, threw all my stuff on my bike and blasted out of that damn town. I hit the freeway and lasted all of thirty minutes before I pulled off down a side road, skidded my bike to a stop and jumped off of it, cursing everything good in the world.

After about an hour of screaming and pounding my fists against the uncaring trees and maybe shedding a few tears, I realized I had to keep going. So I got back on my bike and headed back for the highway. But I was hungry, so before I got on the highway I made a (unintelligible) and kept going down the dusty road. It took me into a small town that probably didn’t get many Harley Davidsons coming down its roads. I didn’t fucking care. I was pissed. I’d wake the whole town up if I could.

I stopped at a general — oh fuck. (Movement. Rustling against the microphone.) Okay. The general store. Right. I went in, and the owner’s looking at me like I’m bin Laden or something. I’m not really a big guy. Like, I’m lean as fuck, but I’m not going to tower over anyone. I think that’s why he relaxed and looked away. I’m not gonna be committing any robberies.

There’s a cooler at the back, and I grab a Coke out of it walk back to the cash. I hear a bell (Unintelligible) And now there’s this tall, older man there, just pointing at things behind the counter. I really don’t care. I’m stupid. I fucking should have.

But I see this girl with him, right? She looks maybe 11 or 12, like super-skinny and frail. And she’s dressed like she’s Amish. Well, they’re both dressed that way. She’s got one of those old white bonnets over her hair, wearing a black and white dress with buttons on the front that goes all the way down to her feet. And he’s wearing a white dress shirt and black pants, but they’re covered in dirt and look like they haven’t been washed in years. And they smell, really, really bad.

Whatever though, right? They’re off the church or something. Except then my eyes catch the girl’s. She looks terrified, like she just came out of watching The Exorcist or something. That thousand-yard stare they’ve told us about, when soldiers are exposed to high amounts of stress and fear. She has those eyes, and they’re surrounded by pale skin.

But it’s more than that. (A cracking noise. The voice lowers) She looks familiar. I swear I’ve seen her before. Like she’s one of my friends’ little sisters. I’m trying to place her, but then I realize that it’s impossible. I don’t have any Amish friends, let alone ones that live in the middle of the Granite state.

Fuck. Okay, she looks at me. And she doesn’t say anything, but her mouth is moving. Two words. Help me. Help me. Over and over, she’s mouthing it to me. And the older guy, I’m thinking it’s her dad maybe? He grabs her and they leave. I shrug it off, you know, she’s probably just a girl who doesn’t wanna go to church. I mean, who does? But I put my stuff on the counter and suddenly I realize where I’ve seen the girl. God help me if I can remember her name, but I saw her on the news. She’d been missing for weeks or months or something. It looked exactly like her.

I ask the owner if he knows who they were. He says no. Never seen them before. So now I’m wondering if what I really saw was her. I have to be sure before I call the cops or something, right? I leave the store and look for them. They’re nowhere to be seen. So I finish my Coke, toss it on the ground and take off down the main road on my bike, trying to see where this girl might have gone. I don’t see them, until I reach the end of the town and hit a ridiculously dusty road. It’s a straight path, and a few miles down I can see this car just booking it away. Now I’m fucking suspicious. I’ve got nothing better to do, so I rev my bike and chase after him.

The guy must (Sudden inhaling. In the distance, a low rumbling sound. No words for about thirty seconds). Holy hell. Oh God, please keep listening to this. The ground just shook. Like a serious tremor. I’m not sure how much longer I have.

Okay, right. The car. It’s out of sight in minutes. I’m going close to 70, so he must have just been blasting it. It didn’t matter. This was a dirt road in the middle of fucking nowhere. There weren’t a lot of places he could go. So I kept following him. Must have driven for half an hour, occasionally catching glimpses of his dust as I went over a hill. As I sped along, the trees slowly grew bigger and more imposing, until they covered the road entirely with their leaves. At this point, I lost sight of him entirely. Hell, with the trees blocking out the sun, I lost sight of the road entirely. I turned a corner at full speed and suddenly there wasn’t any road anymore.

(Harsh cough) Yeah, fuck me, right? I’d hit a steep hill at way too high a speed, causing my bike to fly for a second and then hit the dirt and lose all control. I tried the breaks, but either they didn’t work or were helpless against the gravel. I skidded down the hill, holding onto my handlebars for my dear life and trying not to wipe out. I made it about three quarters of the way before the front wheel hit a bump and I flipped right off, tumbling down the rest of the slope. After ten seconds of sheer terror, wondering if my face was about to meet a jagged rock, I came to a stop, as my bike turned sideways, caught traction again and shot off into the trees. It took a good two minutes before the world stopped spinning and I realized I was still in one piece. I stood up on wobbly legs and gained my bearings.

My leather jacket was torn up, but it’d saved my skin. I took off what threads remained and tossed it aside. I was at the bottom of a steep hill, miles away from the town, and I’d just lost my transportation. My phone, of course, had no connection, since I was surrounded by mountains. And while I now wish to God that I had turned around, walked up the hill and made the day-long trip back to the general store, no, I decided to keep heading down the road and see where it would lead. I mean, the man and the girl had to end up somewhere, right? I could find a phone, call for help, and get the fuck out.

So, in my torn-up jeans and flimsy muscle shirt, I headed

(There is a page missing here)

place was deserted. Every one of the old-fashioned, white-shingled buildings was empty. I walked down the main road, looking for any sign of activity. Nothing. I mean, I was half-expecting to see a tumbleweed blow by me. There were also none of those electric or telephone wires and no streetlights along this makeshift road, so I got the feeling that this place wasn’t going to provide me with my ticket home.

It got weirder, though not nearly as weird as it now fucking is. In the middle of this ghost town was a giant hole. It had to be at least 200 feet deep, and it was perfectly smooth along the sides, like a rock quarry. And it looked fresh — the ground was still dark and moist. This thing had been dug recently. It looked like an oil patch or something. But why the hell would someone drill for oil in the middle of New Hampshire?

Then I heard a scream come from the other side of the hole. And I mean, a bloody-murder-this-guy’s-trying-to-rape-me scream. I booked it around the quarry and ran towards the few buildings on the other side. Now I could hear movement. It was (unintelligible) two-storey barn. I poked my head in a window and could see several men, all wearing the same traditional, Amish-like clothes and sporting long white beards. In front of them was a large wooden table. Muffled gasps came from inside, but I couldn’t tell who was making them.

I needed a better view, and there were plenty of holes and footholds in the wooden wall, so I climbed up and through the second-storey window. Now I was in a loft, looking down on the men. I could see what was on the table. Saws, pliers, a variety of knives, hammers, just all sorts of tools. There was another whimper from below, and I crawled to the edge of the loft and looked down. It was — fuck, I can’t even think about it — the girl. The one I’d seen in the store. She was chained to the wall, a gag in her mouth.

One of the men grabbed a knife and walked over to her. Held the fucking blade to her throat. He gently, I mean, as gently as you can do it, sliced along her skin, causing blood to spill out.

The whole room seemed to darken. The men looked at each other but remained silent. Me? I gasped, which I guess was better than fucking puking. They all heard, and next thing I know they’re all looking at me. And I’m suddenly in fight-or-flight mode. If you know me, you’ll know which one I chose.

I leapt off the loft and dropped right on top of one of the men. I heard his neck snap under my feet. I jumped up, grabbed a knife off the table and plunged it into the second guy’s gut. It was incredibly satisfying, I swear. He goes down, and I face the third guy, who’s standing between me and the girl, brandishing a knife towards me, as though it’s a fair fight. I grab a hammer off the table and chuck it at him, then follow up by running up and connecting a hatchet to his face. Bloody as fuck, but it worked. (Faint laughter) And whatever happens, you have to know that I did this, okay? I took down those three guys. They didn’t stand a chance.

Anyway, I get to the girl and pull the gag off of her. Tell her it’s going to be okay. I’m looking around for something to do up the wound so she doesn’t bleed to death, and she starts talking to me. She says “You have to get out.” And her accent. Deep, deep South. She’s not from nearby. So I tell her I’m getting out, and she’s coming with me, while I’m trying to find a way to undo her chains. It’s not working. She’s shackled securely to the wall. I can’t even find a keyhole for the chains.

She screams again and I turn around. The three men, the ones I fucking killed, are all getting back up. One’s head is hanging to the side. Another’s intestines are spilling from his stomach. The third has a fucking crevasse in his face. And they’re all standing up and looking at me.

I fucking run. Straight out the barn, and into the pitch-black night. Somehow, even though it was the middle of the day when I entered the barn, it’s now two in the morning or something. I can’t see a thing, except for the torches. Yeah, there’s torches, all around the huge pit. And then I see other lights in the area, moving around. And some start moving toward me. I veer toward the forest, but there’re two torches there. I’m not sure how well they can see me in this darkness, so I stay back and dive into one of the buildings and hide in a dark corner.

And that’s where I am now. I’ve been crouched down here for nearly an hour. I can hear things outside — movement, screaming, other sounds that I just can’t place. Something’s going on soon, which means I have to move. I have to get that girl. Fuck it if the odds are against me. I have to help her. But if I don’t make it, the world needs to know about this. So I’m setting a timer on this recorder. After a minute it will shut off and if anyone finds this phone, they’ll find what I’ve said. God, I hope someone finds it.

(Low hum in the distance) Okay, something’s up now. They’re all chanting something. I’m going for them. Wish me–(Loud rumbling) what the fuck was that? The ground is shaking like a fucking earthquake. God, the hell is going on? The fuck is going on?

(Creaking door) I’m outside now. They’re dragging the girl to the pit. I can see something dripping off of her. I’m going — Oh Jesus Christ! They’ve lit her on fire! Please, if you are listening to this, these people have just lit a little girl on fire! Who the fuck are–(Incredibly loud rumbling. An explosion. The voice drops down to a whimper) Holy shit. There is something rising out of the pit. It’s… it’s huge. It–

(A hard whack, followed by a gasp. Loud clicks as the phone hits the ground)

(Distant, but loud) No, please, let me go. I won’t tell them anything. (A loud, screeching roar) Holy fucking shit. Oh my fucking God. What is that? Oh my God what is that? It’s like a giant — it has the girl! If you can still hear me, it grabbed the whole girl in its hand! What is it doing… Oh Jesus. Please, let me go! Brendan, please, if you can hear this, I’m sorry. I swear, I love y–

(Another screeching roar and loud rumbling. Like an earthquake but louder. A terrified scream. Then silence)

(Rustling against the microphone. A low, raspy voice) You have been warned.

(Recording ends)