The Legend of The Pit

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Was it just an urban legend or was it real?
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epiphany65
epiphany65
3,774 Followers

Chapter 1

Mark Withers sat on the edge of his sofa in his livingroom, leaning over the coffee table in front of him. On the floor between his feet was an open cardboard box. Strewn about on the coffee table were letters, photographs, greeting cards and various other momentous that his ex-girlfriend, Denise, had given him. He and Denise had broken up just over a week previous, ending their three-year relationship. Now Mark was left alone in the house that they had been renting, with nothing but a collection of objects and memories. Relics of their relationship. Mark had gathered up all of the cherished souvenirs and gifts Denise had given him over the course of their relationship, intending to throw them away.

Picking up a birthday card that Denise had given him two years ago on this twenty-first birthday Mark scanned the note she had written at the bottom of the card. He scoffed as he read"Love always, Denise". He dropped the card into the box, atop the other things he had deposited in it as tears welled in his dark eyes. With a heavy sigh Mark slid the remaining items on the table towards him. One by one they fell from the coffee table into the cardboard coffin at his feet.

As Mark was folding the cardboard box closed on his lap the doorbell rang. His heart began to race as his immediate thought was hope that it might be Denise. He dropped the box on the coffee table and dashed to the door.

When Mark opened the door he discovered one of his best friends, Kevin Craine, standing there. He and Kevin had known each other since they were seven years old. Kevin had always been one of Mark's most loyal and dependable friends.

"Hey, man, how's it going?" Kevin asked. He walked past Mark and took a can of Pepsi from the fridge.

"Okay, I guess." Mark replied, pushing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans as he forced a smile.

Kevin went into the livingroom and sat down in a chair beside the coffee table. Mark followed him and sat on the sofa. As Kevin gulped his Pepsi he peered over to the box. His green eyes narrowed and he was filled with curiousty.

"What's in the box?"

"Stuff that Denise gave me," Mark replied "I gathered it all up so I can throw it out next garbage day."

"So you think that's going to make you feel better?" Kevin asked in disbelief.

"It can't make me feel any worse." Mark countered.

"Are you sure about that? What if a month, or a year, from now you want those things back?"

"I won't, Kevin. Believe me. They're just painful reminders."

Kevin placed his Pepsi can down next to the box as a smile appeared on his face. "Then what you need to do is take them to The Pit." he told his friend.

"The Pit?" Mark questioned.

"You've never heard of The Pit?" Kevin asked, quite surprised.

"No, what is it?"

"It's sort of like Mel's Hole." Kevin explained.

"Mel's Hole," Mark laughed "is that a porn movie you saw recently?"

"No," Kevin replied, sounding quite earnest. "

Kevin leaned back in his chair. His eyes moved to the wall opposite him as he grinned. It was a few moments before he spoke. "Do you know where Sullivan Road is, Mark?"

"Yeah, but I haven't been out there since I was a kid." Mark replied.

"Well, if you follow Sullivan Road down along St. Joseph's Cove it will take you to The Pit. After the pavement ends, follow the dirt road for about another mile."

"So? Then what?" Mark prodded.

"Then you'll see a line of trees," Kevin continued "there's a path that leads into the woods for about a hundred yards -- inside is a clearing. That's where The Pit is. You can't miss it. It's surrounded by a rock wall about waist high that someone built years ago -- although it might not be there anymore. It's been years since I've been there."

"What am I supposed to do?" Mark asked.

"You have to go there the night of Valentine's Day, after dark, before midnight -- no later. Throw the box of things that Denise gave you into The Pit." Kevin explained.

Mark sneered. "I don't see how that will make me feel better than putting it out with the trash next Monday morning. Besides, Valentine's Day is almost a month away."

Kevin gave an understanding nod. "You're just going to have to trust me on this, Mark. I did it, and it was the best decision I ever made. My grandfather said he went out there years ago. I think even my dad did too."

"How did you hear about all this anyway? It sounds like one of those urban legends to me."

"My grandfather told me about it when I was a kid. I guess he heard about it from his grandfather." Kevin explained.

"So what exactly is The Pit anyway?"

Kevin shrugged. "No one really knows for sure. Some say it's an abandoned well -- others think it's an entrance to an old mine shaft from when they used to mine coal out there years ago. Some even say it goes down all the way to Hell. It's been there forever. No one who's alive now can remember when it wasn't there."

Mark had rarely smiled since he and Denise had broken up, but as he listened to his friend he felt the corners of his mouth turning up.

"It sounds like those stories you hear about someone selling their soul to The Devil at the crossroads at mightnight. Are you sure I don't need to take the bones of a black cat or something like that with me?" he asked with a laugh.

"No, it's nothing like that," Kevin assured him, shaking his head "it's something positive. Scoff if you want, but do it, Mark; you'll be glad you did -- believe me! You were just going to throw the stuff out anyway. What have you got to lose?"

"An evening when I could be doing something else -- that's what I've got to lose."

Kevin shot Mark a snide grin. "Like you have plans for Valentine's Day now. What are you going to do -- drink beer and listen to sad songs while you hope that Denise calls?"

Mark bristled at Kevin's words. His mouth grew tight as he glared at him with narrow eyes.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Mark. That was harsh. But I'm serious about you taking this stuff to The Pit. The worst that can happen is you'll have a story to tell your kids years from now."

Mark thought for a while weighing his friend's words carefully. Despite his skepticism and misgivings he was swayed by the emphatic manner in which Kevin had encouraged him to take the box to The Pit. After close to a minute he looked up to Kevin with a smile and nodded.

"Okay... I'll do it."

"Great," Kevin exclaimed "you won't regret this, Mark. It will make you feel a hundred percent better. I promise."

"Yeah... and come February fifteenth you can laugh at me for being gullible."

"No," Kevin said with a shake of his head "you won't hear me laughing."

"We'll see. Your life is great, Kevin. You and Brenda have a perfect marriage and a baby on the way. I'm the broken-hearted fool."

"Do you think that my life was always like this, man? I've gone through what you are right now -- which is why I'm telling you to go to The Pit. It helped me."

"Okay... okay. You've made your point." Mark exclaimed, raising his palms towards Kevin.

Kevin gestured towards the box on the coffee table between them. "So, have you put everything in there that you wanted to get rid of?"

"Yeah." Mark nodded.

"Good." Kevin replied as he stood up. He picked the box up from the table and tucked it under his left arm. "I'm taking this with me so you don't throw it out. I'll be over the night of the thirteenth with it so you can take it to The Pit the next night."


Mark followed Kevin to the door, feeling rather silly. His better judgement told him that he had fallen for one of Kevin's jokes, but he was desperate for any sort of relief from the aching and longing he felt. Kevin had been so adamant about The Pit that Mark decided he had better give it a try -- if only out of desperation.

"I'll see you on the thirteenth," Kevin promised "but if you need to talk, or want some company before then, give me a call."

"Thanks. I will." Mark replied before closing the door.

Chapter 2

It was just over a week before Mark forgot about the box that Kevin had taken home with him. He had not forgotten about Denise however. People had told him that the pain would go away in time, but time was passing too slowly for him.

It was only when Mark saw displays for Valentine's Day in stores that he remembered the box that Kevin had taken home with him. He snickered to himself, thinking that Kevin too had no doubt forgotten all about his promise to return it the night of the thirteenth. One of these days Kevin would return the box, then he could put it out with the rest of the trash at the curb Mark told himself.

The evening of February thirteenth Mark was sitting on his sofa, watching television as he ate a pizza that he had picked up on his way home from work. When his doorbell rang Mark jumped. He placed his glass of Pepsi on the coffee table and marched to the door.

When Mark opened the door he found Kevin standing there, arms out-stretched, holding the cardboard box he had taken home with him during his last visit.

"You thought I forgot, didn't you?" he grinned.

"Well..."

Kevin pushed the box into Mark's hands and walked inside. He took a can of Pepsi from the fridge and began to nurse it, still with a smug grin.

"So, you know what you have to do, do you?" Kevin asked.

Mark went into the livingroom and placed the box on the floor beside the sofa. He took a bite from the slice of pizza on the plate as he nodded.

"Yeah... go down Sullivan Road to the end and walk into the woods. Toss the box into The Pit, then come home and wait for you to call so you can laugh at me."

"You got it right, except for the part about me laughing at you," Kevin replied "oh... and make sure you bring a flashlight because it's dark out there. You better wear warm clothes too. It gets pretty cold at night." He took a slice of pizza from the open box on the coffee table and bit into it.

Mark nodded, chewing on his pizza.

"If you don't have a flashlight, I'll loan you one." Kevin offered.

"I've got one in the tool drawer in the kitchen." Mark said.

"Good. You'll need it."

"I gotta tell ya, Kevin, this whole thing seems pretty damn silly to me." Mark said.

"I know," Kevin replied, chewing on the pizza "I know exactly what you're thinking. I thought it all too the night before I went out there."

"When did you go anyway? You never told me about it before."

"Close to three years ago," Kevin said "Brenda and I had broken up and I was going through what you are now."

"Oh..." Mark grunted, not wanting to pry, although his friend's disclosure came as a surprise to him.

"I'm going to have to go," Kevin interrupted "I told Brenda I'd pick up some Haagen-Dazs for her and that I wouldn't be too long."

"Okay." Mark replied, following his friend to the door.

"So, you're sure you understand all my instructions?"

"Yeah... it seems pretty straight-forward." Mark replied.

"Good," Kevin said "have fun!"

Mark gave Kevin a puzzled look as he watched him walk towards his car. As he held onto the door, watching Kevin drive off, Mark could not help but smile as he imagined the teasing he was going to have to endure in a day or two when Kevin called to ask how his trip to The Pit went.

Chapter 3

When Mark arrived home from work at the end of the next day, Valentine's Day, he saw the cardboard box containing the things that his ex-girlfriend had given him sitting on the coffee table. He sighed, knowing that he had promised Kevin that he would deposit it into The Pit that night and that Kevin would probably call the next evening wanting to know if he had done as he had promised. This night was his only opportunity for the next year to do this.

Mark made himself a sandwich and ate it as quickly as possible. The sooner he got this over with the sooner he would be back home he reminded himself. He pulled on a black fleece coat and rummaged through his kitchen drawer for a flashlight. After making sure the flashlight worked Mark brought the box out to his car to begin his journey.

As Mark drove along Langfield Street he could see the moonlight shining on the water of St. Joseph's Cove. It looked picturesque, but Mark never concerned himself with that. He had a mission to accomplish so he could get back home as soon as possible. He turned right onto Sullivan Road, knowing he was getting close. When the pavement ended Mark slowed down, navigating the dirt road with care to avoid potholes and ruts. He reached into his left pocket to reassure himself that his flashlight was there.

When the rutty path came to an end Mark pulled his car over to the right. His headlights shone on a cluster of pine trees about fifty feet in the distance. He knew he must have found the right place. Mark shut his headlights off, then turned off the car engine. He picked up the box on the passenger seat beside him and stepped out of the car.

The moonlight helped to illuminate the path before him, but Mark was still grateful for Kevin's advice to bring a flashlight. He aimed the bright beam on the ground ahead of him as he made his way towards the narrow path in the distance.

Once Mark entered the pathway inside the stand of trees he discovered that it was much darker without the aid of the moonlight shining down. He squinted, trying to get his bearings. Mark followed the path up a small hill to a flat open area. There he could see a clearing just as Kevin had described. He shone the flashlight around -- searching left and right. Now the half-moon was clearly visible once more. Moments later Mark saw something a ways away that he was sure must be the rock wall surrounding The Pit, as Kevin had described. Mark quickened his pace, eager to get back to the warmth of his car. Mark could see the vapor from his breath in the night air as he marched towards The Pit. He tugged the zipper of his jacket higher towards his chin.

As Mark approached The Pit he directed his flashlight into the murky darkness. He could see nothing. Once he was about ten feet away a stench rose from The Pit, filling his nostrils and lungs. He felt his throat tighten and feared he was going to vomit. Mark stepped away, gasping for air as he bent over. Drawing in another deep breath of fresh air Mark approached The Pit once more -- holding the cardboard box tight in his hands, prepared to toss it into the inky abyss. As Mark hoisted the box towards his shoulders he heard the sound of rustling dead leaves on the ground and twigs snapping behind him. Thinking that a racoon, or perhaps a porcupine, was approaching Mark lowered the box and turned around. He aimed his flashlight out towards the row of pine trees behind him.

"Hello there."

Mark could hear the voice, but it was a moment before he saw the dark figure approaching him. Mark's heart raced, sending adrenaline to every muscle and nerve in his body. As the elderly man drew closer Mark realized that he was too old and frail to be a threat; he relaxed.

"So what brings you out here tonight?" the old man asked.

Mark shone the beam of his flashlight over the intruder. His dirty grey hair was pushed back on his head and hung down towards his slight shoulders. He was wearing a blue plaid flannel shirt, over which was a brown suede jacket. His jeans were dirty and there was a hole in the right knee of them.

"What do you want?" Mark demanded, trying to sound menacing.

"I was just wondering what you were doing," the old man replied "I mean you no harm."

Mark could feel his muscles relax as he looked into the old man's face. His blue eyes seemed kind and he had a friendly smile. He looked gentle Mark thought to himself. As he moved closer Mark detected a familiar scent. At first he could not place it, then he could not believe his senses. It was roses. The old man smelled like roses. But how could it be?

"I came out to The Pit." Mark explained.

"Ahh... yes... The Pit," the old man sighed, sounding weary "every year on this night I see people just like you -- young men mostly -- throwing their love away into The Pit."

Mark gave a puzzled look.

"Do you honestly think that will make things better?" he asked Mark.

Mark shrugged. "A friend of mine told me that's what I should do."

"Yes. I see," the old man said "so, that box... you have all the things she gave you?"

"Yes." Mark replied.

"What's her name?" the elderly stranger demanded.

"Denise." Mark answered.

The old man nodded, looking back over his shoulder. "I have a fire going over there. Will you care to join me for a while? It's such a cold night."

Mark felt empathy for the stranger. Like him, he too was alone on Valentine's Day, and probably reminiscing over lost loves. The least he could do was spend a little time with him and perhaps cheer him up. Mark could also feel the cool night air slicing through his fleece jacket and the thought of sitting by a fire for a while appealed to him.

The old man turned and lead Mark towards a thicket of pine trees behind them. Behind the trees was a small clearing where a fire was burning within a circle of rocks next to a grassy embankment. The old man sat down a few feet away from the fire, leaning over as he held his wrinkled hands towards the flames as they rose into the darkness.

"This is nice. I seldom get company." the old man remarked, smiling.

Mark sat down, placing his box on the ground between himself and the old man. He smiled as he reached his hands out towards the crackling flames. Soon Mark could feel the heat of the fire radiate through his clothes and warm his body. He smiled.

"My name's Mark." he said, glancing towards his right.

"Nice to meet you, Mark." The old man never looked up from the fire in front of them.

"And you're...?"

An enigmatic expression crept over the old man's face. He turned to face Mark, his blue eyes moving up and down. Mark noticed the deep lines around his eyes, illuminated by the fire. On either side of his mouth lines formed as his thin lips formed a smile. They appeared like deep shadows on his face.

"People call me by a lot of names," he said "but I'll answer to anything."

Mark thought for a moment, wondering if his new acquaintance was a fugitive from the law who didn't want his true identity known. He decided it was probably best to not pursue the matter.

"Well, since this is Saint Valentine's Day, how about I call you Valentine?" Mark suggested.

"Perfect! Valentine it is! Although I don't know how many people would call me a saint." His laugh echoed amongst the trees.

Mark lowered his head, glancing down towards the box between him and Valentine. The heat from the fire was soothing and Mark did not want to get up, yet he knew that his purpose there was to deposit the box into The Pit.

"So, what do you have in the box?" Valentine asked.

"All the things she gave me." Mark mumbled.

"Yes, but what exactly? Will you show me, please?" Valentine prodded, leaning closer to Mark.

Despite his reluctance and embarrassment Mark pried open the ears of the box, revealing it's contents to Valentine.

Valentine bent over, darting his eyes inside the box. Mark noticed the lines on Valentine's face deepen as he squinted, peering inside to survey the contents of the box. The orange light from the fire bathed Valentine's face and Mark guessed his age to be close to eighty -- although he may have just appeared older than he actually was. He had probably had his heart broken many times throughout his life Mark thought to himself as he frowned. Now he was old and alone on Valentine's Day. Suddenly his own plight did not seem so bad to Mark.

As Valentine leaned over the box Mark noticed what appeared to be two small gold medallions hanging from chains around Valentine's neck. They looked valuable and seemed out-of-place, worn by someone who appeared to be a vagrant. Mark wondered if they might have been gifts from a past lover, or perhaps a wife Valentine had years ago.

epiphany65
epiphany65
3,774 Followers
12