This story is by Mike Conradt and was part of our 2023 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.
The Legend of Nadia
“I don’t know how to put it, but in all my years of investigating the paranormal, I have never seen anything like it,” I said from my hospital bed.
“Umm. Can you be sure what you saw was real,” said the doctor quietly. I turned and stared at him.
“You don’t understand—the horror of it, the loss of my sanity, the madness which ensued. Look! My hands still shake, and with the mention of the Legend of Nadia, my eyes widen, and my body grows stiff. My soul has been to hell, and I can only hope the heavens above will redeem me. Quiet! I can speak no more. You have my written statement concerning the events,” I roared. The doctor nodded and picked up the paper:
A month ago, I received a call from the mayor of Linden, Charlotte Smith, requesting that I investigate a paranormal occurrence. As an astute investigator of the supernatural, her invitation piqued my interest. I have dealt with many ghostly apparitions and dispelled most as hoaxes and others with evidence so vague they did not warrant explanation. But this legend lives with a reputation for bringing people to their deaths. I told her I would be there the following afternoon.
On my way to Linden, I had reservations about getting involved in the case. Something in the back of my mind told me to be cautious. It was a sound of desperation—a quivering in her voice. A genuine fear resonated across the phone lines. Something told me to stay home.
It was almost dark when I arrived in Linden, and the full moon had just begun to ascend in the eastern sky. I met with Charlotte and Charlie Johnson, the county sheriff, who could have been more receptive to my presence. I felt unsettled as Charlotte told the story of the Legend of Nadia.
The legend of Nadia has been on the lips of Linden residents since the late eighteen hundreds. For over one hundred years, it has been passed on from one person to another. From one family to another. Relative to Relative. Visitors to Linden were told to stay away from the Skull Creek Forest and the creek flowing through it. Some came to stare at the darkness in the trees in awe, but only from a distance. They have learned from others not to enter.
Residents from the area speak about the clinking of shovels digging and a child’s scream at night. An ominous darkness moves among the trees during the day, and if a person enters the forest, a sudden psychosis of the mind or death befalls them.
The legend started when Henry McNally and his family moved to town in the late 1890s. He started the McNally Bank, which infuriated Jack and Scott Linden. They owned the Linden Bank and became even more enraged as the McNally Bank grew.
One evening, as Henry left the bank, Jack and Scott followed him, pulled him into the street, and beat him to near death. A crowd gathered and watched in horror. His daughter, Nadia, a small twelve-year-old girl watching from the front porch, ran to his aid. She arrived just as the Linden brothers draped her father over a horse and led him to Skull Creek.
Nadia followed them and watched in fear as they buried her father alive in the dense timber next to Skull Creek. She screamed. Jack and Scott heard the screams and ran after her. She ran deeper into the woods and, getting tangled in the thick underbrush, fell and hit her head on a rock. Nadia lay there, bleeding, hidden from her pursuers. Jack and Scott never found her, and as they left for home, they stopped momentarily to inform Mrs. McNally her daughter was in the Skull Creek Forest.
Mrs. McNally rushed to Skull Creek Forest to search for Nadia and her husband. But it was too dark and the underbrush too thick, so she returned home. Distraught, she returned the next day searching, finally giving up. Mrs. McNally died six months later. The Lindens told the rest of the town to stay out of the matter.
In the following months, there were reports of strange sights in the forest near Skull Creek. One farmer, Bob Linden, claimed to see a small girl, who shone brightly, walking down the path. She looked very much like Nadia. She wore the same white dress, and her blonde hair was messy and dirty.
As time passed, the sightings became more frequent, with numerous people dying of fright once they saw Nadia. During Nadia’s walks in the woods, the forest became deathly quiet. Not even the waters of Skull Creek made its typical running water sound.
“So now you have it,” said Charlotte.
A chill ran down my back as I tried to comprehend the story. My stomach turned with a nervous dread, and my mind told me to run.
“We’ll take you to Skull Creek Bridge and wait until it gets darker,” said Charlotte anxiously.
We got into her car and drove to the bridge parking on the road’s edge. I peered into the dark and ominous forest. Shadows cast by the trees from the moonlight seemed to move. We got out and leaned on the car.
“Up the road, there is the grassy path. It’s the road they took Henry McNally down. Not much has changed,” said Charlotte, rubbing her arms against the chilly air.
“So, this is the path Nadia took to look for her dad,” I said, feeling the chill also.
“Yes, and it’s also where they began to see the spirit of Nadia,” said Charlotte. The sheriff stood defiantly looking towards the forest with his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I saw her,” said Charlie. “Never want to see her again.”
“You did?” I said.
“Yeah. Only momentarily,” said Charlie.
“Will she come out tonight?” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Charlotte, her voice trailing off.
We waited an hour, and then Charlotte turned to Charlie and me and motioned for us to follow her into the forest. We grabbed the flashlights and held them firmly as we walked up the grassy path. The timber became quiet. No air moved, and the birds of the night fled. Insects on the ground quit their chirping, shadows from the moon disappeared, and a feeling of dread overcame me.
Our steps slowed, and our senses heightened as we crept further into the timber. Our lights dart around the dark path. Then Charlotte stopped.
“This is where they supposedly buried Henry McNally,” said Charlotte, pointing to a spot on the timber floor.
“I don’t like this,” said Charlie, shining his light high into the timber. We pressed on carefully, placing each step quietly on the ground. Charlotte and Charlie were behind me. An odd feeling fell over me as the hairs on my neck rose. The chill in the air intensified. Darkness engulfed us.
Behind us strolled, with a quiet, somber demeanor, watching us intently, was the spirit of Nadia. The timber slowly lit up from the bright light she emitted. We turned and looked. I gazed at her face. Her features appeared graceful and then gradually evolved into something hideous.
She advanced boldly and silently towards us. Charlie’s eyes widened; his mouth opened, trying to scream. Nothing came out. He collapsed to the ground, dead. Charlotte turned away and began to cry, which echoed throughout the forest. She locked arms tightly with me, making it impossible to move. I could not keep my eyes off Nadia’s face. An icy chill permeated the air, and I froze.
Nadia’s black, wild eyes shone from her sockets. They pierced my brain with visions of hell. Her skull and the teeth within the bony confines of her jaws shone brightly. Her jaw began to move as if to speak. Then I heard the words:
“GET OUT!”
The words thundered throughout the forest. My thoughts began to race; I struggled to move. My mind was in disorder as my thoughts succumbed to insanity.
I reeled around. My legs felt like concrete. I pushed Charlotte away and began to run, grabbing her hand. She bounced around behind me, barely able to keep up. I felt a tug and lost the grip of Charlotte’s hand.
“Brad, help me,” Charlotte screamed. I turned and saw her helplessly hung up on some underbrush. I looked up at Nadia as she approached. I yanked Charlotte’s hand and pulled her free. We ran to the car and climbed in. I looked back into the forest. Nadia was gone, and the hawks made their screeching sounds. The air began to move, and crickets made their song. I looked at Charlotte as she sobbed profusely. I realized then the legend of Nadia existed, and there was nothing more for me here. I saw what I saw, and it was real. I left the next day with the legend still intact.
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