Echoes Ridge

Lily sighs... something she does in an exaggerated manner when she wants my attention without directly asking me for it. Her silent instruction lingers in the air, gently guiding me. It's one of the many facets of Lily that I adore: her unwavering consistency. Today's sigh echoes tomorrow's, a mere breath that resounds, proclaiming "Adam, I need you." I love to be needed by her. She has always been a sovereign being, unbound by the need for anyone's input or approval. To be desired by her is a precious gift, a testament to the profound connection we share. The light pours in through the windows illuminating her glistening brown eyes. With a graceful gesture, she sweeps her long, silky black hair to rest upon one shoulder. Freckles, like tiny constellations scattered across her skin, add a touch of ethereal charm to her visage. Each freckle is a unique star, lending her face a subtle and captivating allure. As if kissed by nature's whimsy, these speckles of warmth and innocence adorn her complexion, creating a tapestry of beauty that is uniquely hers. "My love..." she whispers, her voice is soft and comforting, "would you mind looking at these shelves? They seem crooked but maybe it's just my eyes struggling to adjust. I've been staring at these jars for days trying to organize them." I step closer, glancing at the shelves she's fussing over. They don't look particularly crooked to me, but I let my eyes linger for a moment anyway, as if I'm really inspecting them. "I think it's your head that's crooked, not the shelves," I say, a faint smile tugging at my lips. Her smile turns to a mischievous grin. With a hunched back, she shuffles towards me, resembling a zombie eagerly approaching its next feast of cerebral broth. She growls and says, "I'll show you a crooked head!" She runs and pounces onto my lap, pretending to bite my neck over and over like a starving vampire. I pretend to die, letting my body go limp, slowly rolling both of us off the couch and onto the floor. Her goofy laugh is contagious, sending us both into spiraling laughter. "Ok, ok, you win! Your head isn't crooked... it's just not screwed on tight enough." She grins, rolls her eyes, and walks back to her beloved jars of herbs and crystals. "I'll see if I can find a level and get these shelves fixed for you, my love." This old cabin, Echoes Ridge, has been in her family for generations. It needs a lot more than a few level shelves. I've been working on this thing for years. We come here often, at Lily's request. I never cared for it all that much. Visiting the cabin means I turn into Mr. Fix-it. No matter how many times I fix something, by the time we come back it's somehow broken, cracked, crooked, and covered in dust again. The floorboards creaked as though the cabin were sighing. It was a sound I used to ignore, but now it seems...intentional. Mocking, even. Sometimes I convince myself that this place is cursed. I journey towards the shed nestled behind the cabin, greeted by the lingering fragrance of honeysuckle in the air. The last of the blooms gift me their aroma. I should remind Lily to collect the last of the blooms before it's too late. She's gifted in natural medicine. She knows a cure for every ailment one could acquire. The cobblestone walkway is almost completely covered in clover. I've wanted to clean it up and make it look like new again, but Lily insists that nature has a say-so in some of the decorations. If Lily can't make decisions about something she lets nature do it for her. As I approach the shed, I smell something rancid. Another racoon must have gotten stuck in there while looking for shelter. I try to keep the shed free of vermin, something that seems impossible in these North Georgia mountains. Racoons, mice, and other pests are our neighbors, whether I like it or not. Lily calls them her friends and is always tossing out scraps to them. I sigh, grabbing the shovel leaning against the door of the shed. I take a deep breath before opening the door, unsure of what I may find in there, gotta have some protection. Lily doesn't like guns, so I've had to learn to find comfort and protection in shovels and other yard tools. I can imagine the news article now: "Grown man killed by bear while trying to protect himself with a gardening hose." The door is stuck again. I let out the deep breath I'd taken. "Goddamn it! Not again!" This door gets stuck on the cobblestone. I'll have to climb through the window to kick the door from the inside to get it unstuck. Rose bushes surround the sides of the shed, which means I must travel through thorns to get into the window. Lily is very protective of her rose buses, as she is with all flowers, leaves, dirt, and anything else that nature has to offer. I reach over the bushes and pry the window open. The smell is so strong it takes my breath away. I back away from the window, giving it a few moments to air out. Whatever is in there has been marinating in the Georgia heat a little too long. I pull my shirt up over my nose and brace myself for whatever I may find in there. I hop over the bushes and pull myself headfirst into the shed. Spiderwebs encompass me as the rest of my body makes way through the window. The smell is unbearable. I brush the spiderwebs out of my hair and off my shirt. I kick the door a few times to get it open. I can never seem to adjust the door so that it doesn't get stuck. I've fixed it at least 20 times now. I glance around for any dead animal that might be the source of the smell. Nothing. Just tools, spiderwebs, broken jars, and dust. I move some things around, looking for my level. I know it's in here somewhere. It's hard to find anything in the clutter of this old shed. The smell makes it difficult to think straight. There must be something dead in here. I shift things around some more, determined to find the source of the rancid odor. I check the shelves at the top, though I'm sure nothing could have made its way up there. It's so high up I have to stand on an empty paint can just to reach it with my fingertips. I don't store anything up there for that reason. I move my hands around up there, feeling for anything that fate might have left for me to find. Just about to give up, my hand brushes against something. Nervously, I stretch my arm out a little further to see what it is. I can't believe I'm blindly reaching for a rotten animal corpse. The smell breezes by my nose again, so strong it makes me dizzy. I step down from the paint can. I need something a little taller to reach whatever is up there. I grab the old crate that Lily uses to store jars in. I flip it over and put one foot on it, making sure it will support my weight. I'm not a big guy, 5'11 and 150 pounds after a big meal. I put both feet on the crate and reach for the shelf. I feel around again and my hand touches something wet. I quickly snatched my hand back. It's covered in what looks like black tar. The smell is unbearable. I start gagging and wipe my hand off on my jeans. Whatever is up there must be dealt with, so I just have to get it over with. I reach up there, feeling around in the wet sticky black mess and I feel something. I grab what feels like fur and pull it down. A decapitated rabbit's head. "What the fuck!" I drop it onto the floor and fall off the crate, onto my back. "Lily!", I screamed, out of breath from falling. I stare at it for a moment, trying to make sense of what, why and how. It takes me a moment to realize that this isn't a normal rabbit head. It's been tampered with. The eyes are sewn shut and the mouth has some kind of herbs shoved into it. The black tar oozed from the neck like it was freshly decapitated. I hesitate to call it blood. This doesn't look like old blood. The smell is so bad, I can't stand to be near it anymore. I prop myself up on my hands and take a closer look at it. Everything around me falls into complete silence. The stitching on one of the eyes slowly unravels. It looks like something is moving inside and trying to come out. I realize I'm holding my breath. Despite feeling disgusted, I find myself unable to avert my gaze. I let out the breath I was holding. I crawl backwards a little bit before dizziness overcomes me and everything goes black. ✽✽✽ I call for Lily again. Where is she? I stand up and walk to the water spigot by the shed to wash the black tar off my hands. I toss some water onto my face to help get my senses back in order. I walk back into the house, calling Lily's name. My chest tightens. It's not like her to ignore me. I take my pants off and toss them into the washer while still calling for her. The smell of the black tar on my pants is overwhelming. "Lily!" I called one last time before I started searching the house for her. Maybe she's in the basement. I walk to the end of the hallway to the basement door. I cracked it open and called her name again. Silence.