Legend of Devil's Creek
There once was a tale of demonic type worship in the area of an old church on Forest Road 88. The church, which once stood beside an old cemetery, has since either been torn down or as rumor has it, was burnt to the ground by people trying to purify the area.
Tales say that the tombstones in the grave yard next to where the church once stood used to have an eerie glow when the moon was full. One person I spoke with swore, the night he was down there, the headstones even shook wildly, as if the bodies from the crypt were going to rise up and walk the road.
After hearing all these tales of ghost and goblins on Devil's Creek Road, my brothers and I decided that we would have to go investigate these supposed happenings for ourselves. So, one night, on Halloween, of course, we decided to drive down to the old haunted cemetery. We arrived in the area of Devil's Creek about 11pm. The dark and dreary night was colder than normal Halloweens in the past. Looking around in the night air as we drove down the road, we saw bats and a cauldron with a witch standing next to it on the side of the road - you know, the old everyday yard decorations that anyone would put in the yards at this time of year. As we continued on, I remember telling my brothers we better get on down there before the midnight hour and all the horrifying stuff starts without us. We all laughed at what I had said, but we soon would not be laughing.
My brothers and I drove down past a rickety old tree standing on the side of the road. I remember the tree well because it gave the shadow-like appearance of a figure. The figured appeared to be pointing the way straight towards the cemetery.
We got to the grave yard about twenty minutes before midnight, so we drove on down the road and parked the truck on a side road and got out and walked back up the dark, cold road towards the cemetery. When we arrived at the cemetery, as I expected, there wasn't anything at all happening; but it was still early. We all laughed and were looking at the old slab foundation that was to the east end of the cemetery. I remember three crosses stuck in the ground upside down where I would have imagined the door to the church would have been. We investigated further to find two big circles painted on the slab with a pentagram drawn on the inside circle. Now we were scared, not!!!
It was about five minutes before the witching hour and we were patiently waiting for anything paranormal to happen. We were just about to head out walking back to where we parked the truck when we heard the sound of gravels popping under tires, like they do when you are driving down an old road bed. We looked up the road from the cemetery and saw a set of headlights with dust boiling from behind them. We all hunkered down behind some headstones so they wouldn't see us. They pulled into the road right beside the old slab. It was a big black looking, large car. It appeared to be a Lincoln or something. We watched as half a dozen people got out and opened the trunk of the car. They got some kind of book out and some kind of box. They went to the slab and opened the box and started getting out candles. We all just sat there watching the gruesome happenings.
We heard one of the men speak to the others after the candles had been lit and the two men went to the car and opened the door. They pulled out what appeared to be a woman dressed in white and apparently unconscious. They carried her over to the middle of the now candle lit pentagram and laid her out in the middle of the slab.
This was way too freaky for me now. I motioned to my brothers and let them know I was going to get the license plate number on the car and we had to call this is in. We agreed. I crawled closer to the car as my brothers started easing down to the truck. When I had gotten close enough to where I could see the plate, I saw that there wasn't a plate on the vehicle. This sent chills down my spine. I got up, turned around and started crawling to the ditch line so I could get out of there. As I was turning, I saw one of the men open the book and pull a knife from the box. I knew then that these men were about to do something terrible to this poor woman. The other man standing beside him had some sort of goblet and was starting to chant some off the wall ritual from the book. I then heard the muffled whine of the woman lying on the cold candlelit slab of concrete.
My gut told me I had to do something, so I jumped up and hollered at my brothers and told them to go. They had made it to the truck by now and started it up and I began to run down to where they were waiting. The men at the slab screamed, in a voice that sounded horrifying, "Get them! They know too much!" At that very moment the moon disappeared in the night sky and a deafening clap of thunder rang out through the heavens; followed almost immediately by a bolt of blinding lightning.
We tore out up the road right past where the possible murder was foiled and headed out the road towards Cumberland Falls Highway. The thunderstorm was beginning to get worse. The rain was making it almost impossible to drive but my brother was driving like his pants were on fire. We slowed a little and kept looking behind us. We didn't see any sign of them pursuing us. We decided to get to the closest phone and call the police.
We were driving toward the main highway, still watching our rear view mirror as much as we could. The rain was blowing in sheets now, making driving almost impossible. I was looking out the back glass of the truck when I heard my brother yell and slam on the brakes sliding sideways. I turned and looked out the window of the door and there was the chrome grill of the Lincoln. Just then, the doors opened up and two men got out on each side of the car and started toward the truck. I yelled "Move the truck!", just as my brother slammed the truck into reverse and backed up. As the first man got to the truck door, you could see the emptiness in his eyes. My brother stepped on the gas and sped away, back toward the cemetery.
As we sped past the cemetery, we came to the Dog Slaughter cut off; but we were going too fast to make the turn down toward the Dog Slaughter trailhead. I told my brother that the road we were on dead ended, so we started looking for a place to turn.
We turned and started back out planning on turning on to the Dog Slaughter Road: however, we were met by the black car coming back up the hill. We shot straight back down towards the cemetery and went by so fast this time that we didn't even see it. As we got to the Bark Camp cut off, the rain had slacked off and we were making a lot better time. I turned again to look behind us to see if I could see the headlights and my brother yelled, "Hold on!" as we made a hard left hand turn on Bark Camp Road. I turned and looked out the window of the truck again. This time I saw a huge tree that had fell across the road.
We drove as fast as we could down the twisting road toward Bark Camp Creek. The black Lincoln was coming hard and appeared to be having no trouble sticking to the road. My brother, however, was concerned that the curves and the washboard hills could make us lose control. The creek turn was coming up fast and the road just past it was a dead man like curve to the right.
My brother slammed on the brakes of the truck and slid semi sideways, but somehow we made it around the curve and the black car came up hard right on our bumper. Just as we thought it was over and they had us, we looked up ahead and seen a set of headlights coming down the road toward us. My brother started flashing the headlights on the truck to try to attract attention to us. I looked behind us and the black car had started to fall back. I told my brother not to stop when we met the other vehicle. We were almost to the Bee Creek cut off and we could make a lot better time there. He agreed and we sped by the oncoming vehicle. We turned right onto Bee Creek Road and started back out again towards Cumberland Falls Highway. We had just about made it to the road that goes to the Spillway at Laurel Lake, when we couldn't believe our eyes. There again sat the black Lincoln. We immediately, without thinking, hit the highway headed for Laurel County. We sped down the large highway towards the spillway. The Lincoln wasn't behind us this time. We thought to ourselves, "Did we really see this the last time or was it just our frightened state of mind playing tricks on us?"
We made it to the bridge crossing the spillway and as I looked back, I saw headlights and with the lights at the dam parking area, I could see the black car yet again. I screamed, "Floor it!", and my brother took off again. We put enough distance between us this time that when we came to the Holly Bay Campground cut off. We turned and headed into the little road down where all the pines are. We shut the truck off after pulling into the shadows and sat there. We listened as we heard the roar of a vehicle pass down the road and tires squeal shortly after that. We figured that the squeal was it making the turn onto the power plant road below the dam.
We sat there in the woods for about an hour before we decided to drive back roads back home.
When we got home and pull into the driveway, our truck died. We looked at each other with a look of bewilderment. We checked the gas and had about half a tank left. We got out. When we came around to check the engine out, I reached to pop the hood and it was as cold as ice. I jerked back and my brother asked "What happened? Did your burn yourself?" I replied, "No, the hood is ice cold." "You're crazy," he replied, "after all that, it is a wonder it isn't burned up." We popped the hood to check the engine. All we could find wrong was the air breather was clogged up. It had a white blood soaked night gown stuffed up inside it.
We never told anyone about this happening, after all, who would believe us?
Written by Tony A. Anders