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A Walk Above the Tombstones

A True Story - Based on the Life of Mister Sillers

It was the kind of night where no living soul should be out and about. The new moon had hidden itself away behind a bank of low hanging clouds. What little light it did give, tinted the pale white snow a deep shade of blue. Yet, there I was trudging through the forest, carrying a large stick and following a pair of small light beams, thrown from a pair of headlamps. All the while, trying not to trip on meandering tree roots, half-buried by snow. The shadows in some spots were inky black pools; their surfaces calm, belying the dangers that lurked beneath.

The night air was blisteringly cold, so cold in fact that every drawn breath felt like swallowing a mouthful of stinging nettles. Even with a thick layer of polar fleece under my heavy clothes, I could feel the warmth slowly leaching from my body. While the weather was certainly disagreeable, I had agreed to come along on this midnight expedition. So, I only had myself to blame. Besides, I wasn't going to let my friends, Jeff and Momo wander into the forest alone at night, without any protection!

Jeff and Momo are paranormal investigators, so they're usually worried about things that go bump in the night. You know, the sort of entities that lurk just on the periphery of the human mind. Personally, I'm not worried about ghost and goblins. No, my greatest concern that evening was the possibility of encountering a coyote or worse still a pack of coyotes. So, before we ventured too deeply into the forest, I acquired a long straight, heavy branch. I gave it a good whack against a sturdy tree for good measure. The branch, which I would later dub The Stick of Encouragement, rushed through the air, striking the old tree with a resounding crack! Splinters of bark exploded from the point of impact, raining down harmlessly on the snow-covered ground below. Satisfied, I hefted my makeshift quarterstaff, beckoning my friends to continue forward.

Our goal for that evening was to find a long lost pioneer cemetery. Unfortunately, we only had a rough idea as to where it might be; even then it was a shot in the dark!

The hard-packed snow crunched noisily beneath our feet, echoing throughout the forest. While Jeff and Momo poked and prodded the ground, looking for telltale signs of a graveyard, my attention was focused on the woods around us. Barren trees, standing like so many randomly placed posts, obscured my field of vision. This really got my hackles up, since I've spooked my fair share of deer in the underbrush. The last thing we needed was a startled deer crashing into our party! To make matters worse, the wind had picked up, rattling the trees. Trying to pick out individual sounds over the howling wind and clattering branches would have been completely pointless.

As we picked our way through the forest, Momo wanted to climb a fairly steep slope, but we dissuaded her. The dim glow of their headlamps bathed the path in an eerie glow, reflecting some of their light back at us. A treacherously thin layer of ice had formed over the snow. I swear, Momo decided to travel back along the worst possible route, as it bordered a ravine with a precarious ledge. One wrong step would lead to a nasty tumble down a rock-studded hill, deep down into a shadowy ravine. Jeff and myself shared a sense of dread as we watched her slowly make her way back to the main path.

Once she was back on level ground, Momo decided that she wanted to take a smoke break. While they were smoking, I decided to take a stab at finding the graveyard on my own. A short distance away from where we were standing, the copse thinned out, giving way to a large grove.

Since there are no records of when the final resident was interred there, using the age of the trees to judge a potential location would have been futile. The cemetery was originally founded in 1810, which means even if it remained open until the early 1900s, the likelihood of finding a centennial tree would be quite slim. Considering the density of the woods, I figured the pioneers probably buried their dead in the nearby field.

After a few minutes of zigzagging through the trees, I was alone with my thoughts. Meanwhile, the wind had died down and silence, once again blanketed the forest. A sort of quiet peace had washed over my mind as I stared out across the bluish-white snow. My fingers had begun to ache from the severe cold, making it harder to maintain my grasp on The Stick of Encouragement. Little puffs of crystalized snow, picked up by gusts of wind, were the only signs of movement. Reflecting some otherworldly light, they glimmered and shined with ephemeral beauty, before disappearing into the night.

I slowly paced across the open field; the sound of my footfalls shattering the silence, just as my boots crushed the thin layer of ice. Looking out across the open space, I decided that it was a waste of time. While the snow wasn't particularly deep, it was an unbroken uniform sheet of white. Nowhere were there points that would indicate a raised headstone. Had there been any flat gravestones, they would have long been buried under the snow.

Feeling a bit disappointed, I took one last look across the field, only to be met by emptiness. I was about to turn around, when I noticed something moving just on the other side of the clearing! Due to the poor illumination, I was at odds with my night-vision, which made the creature that much harder to see. I stood stock-still, grasping my makeshift quarterstaff tightly in both hands, ready to strike! The beast remained on the outskirts of the forest, moving cautiously, never once taking its eyes off of me. We had to have been a good 50 feet away from one another, but even at that great of a distance there was a sense of mutual unease. I quickly scanned the rest of the tree line, but it appeared to be alone. Not that I took much comfort in this, as there could have been more of them deeper in the forest. Quietly, we eyed one another as we silently weighed our options. The tension was building in my shoulders, from having stood a while now in a protective stance; The Stick of Encouragement held in a position ready to make a heavy-handed downward strike!

That's when it broke from cover, its dark fur a solid shadow across the pale white snow! For a moment, I stood there shocked, then I began to laugh so hard that a single tear rolled down my cheek; leaving a stinging trail as it went. Luckily, for both of us, the only animal foolish enough to be out on such an accursed night beside myself was a large brown mink! The critter quickly darted into a burrow, disappearing into the night. I guess at least one of us was home, safe and sound...

After that I decided that our little exploration should come to a close, as the search seemed to be a fool's errand at this point. Once we exited the forest, Momo mentioned that there was an abandoned farmhouse just on the outskirts of the forest and that we should at least do some filming there. Unfortunately, an imposing wrought iron fence blocked the main entrance, with an extended makeshift barrier erected along the outskirts of the property.

Fortunately, there was a narrow gap between the fence and the gate, which was easy enough to squeeze through. Unfortunately, it was all down hill from there; quite literally, as there was a 15-foot drop on the other side of the barrier. After failing to find the pioneer graveyard, Jeff was determined to find the derelict farmhouse. So, we carefully shimmied along the crevasse, until it was safe to vault over a low spot in the defenses. Once we cleared the barrier, our search began anew.

The grounds were extensive, with groves of pine trees dotting the property, obscuring the view. There were large swathes of open land, but no signs of a house. Also, something felt different about the atmosphere surround the grounds. Unlike the serene silence that had shrouded the forest, the absence of noise within the abandoned estate was unsettling.

While we were wandering around blindly in the dark, I noticed an odd shape in the distance. As we drew closer to the object, I felt a wave of dismay, as it was a long shipping container. The house was long gone; all that was left were the bare bones of its foundations. Outlining a few rooms that had once been a basement. Needless to say, Jeff was disappointed; we had once again failed to find a place to explore.

Cold and distraught, we carefully worked our way back to the car and went to Tim Hortons for Hot chocolate and doughnuts.

The End?

The story doesn't quite end there, as Jeff returned to the abandoned estate recently. He ended up going alone, with his equipment. The following video is a record of what he encountered there https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPQQl-37wCQ