An eco horror tale of a man just doing his job… until the unthinkable happens…
It was a long, sultry day. Hot and humid, sweat-inducing balminess engulfed Jarred as he pressed on. All of these trees had to go to make way for the new development. He didn’t care what was being built, a road or something, just that the world had to make way for progress and he was tasked with getting it ready.
Another spray-painted X. Another tree slated for demolition.
Why bother anyway? They knew all the trees were going to be removed. Why was it necessary to mark them first? It’d make more sense and be so much more efficient to just bulldoze the swath and be done with it. Oh well, it was a job anyway… Jarred surveyed the scene, wiping his hand over his sweat-soaked brow bandana. So many trees done already, so many more trees destined for removal. Better get back to it then.
Another spray painted X. Another tree slated for demolition.
But all of the tree-hugger eco-activists were very clear that no extra trees should be doomed to destruction. It had taken too much time to run off the squatters. The resulting work required more precision than just a blanket approach. So here Jarred was tagging the trees unfortunate enough to grow between the guidelines.
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Another spray painted X. Another tree slated for demolition.
After the accident, the squatters had fled. Some of the crew said that the ghost of the tree-hugger who died still lurked in these parts. The mediation and legal discourse that followed had been nightmare enough, though most of the workers weren’t subject to that and Jarred was pretty new to the team. Best not to get wrapped up in such drama and just do the work.
Another spray painted X. Another tree slated for demolition.
Jarred knew the ghost stories, but every site had them. There were the Native American graveyard warnings, the magnetic field extraplanar myths, the swallowing land environmental hazard stories… Whatever. He’d heard it all, and none of it ever made any difference. You just did what you had to and moved along to the next site. That was all that mattered.
Another spray painted X. Another tree slated for demolition.
But wait, that tree he just passed… Jarred was certain he had tagged it. Yet there it was, clean as day. Was he slipping? He surveyed the others. A sea of bright red X marks stared back at him, bereft of one. It was a just another tree, like all of its brethren. He raised his spray can and gestured swiftly.
Another spray painted X. Another tree slated for demolition.
He stood there a moment. The X that Jarred had just painted began to disappear, as if the heat was causing it to evaporate away into the atmosphere. He could almost see it radiate red smoke as it vanished. He aimed the spray can at it, slower and more deliberately this time. His arm arced as a jet of paint misted over the surface of the bark.
Another spray painted X. Another tree slated for demolition.
Something about the tree itself began to feel ominous, as if another presence stirred. The paint began smoking off of the bark surface more rapidly, seemingly smoldering. The red mist began to surround Jarred and the world went hazy. Everything around him started to dissipate to steam. The heat was otherworldly and he raised his hand, spray can in tow. He let loose.
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Another spray painted X…
The red smoke thickened all around him and engulfed Jarred completely. The tree and construction site faded away completely. The spray can itself vanished in a cloud of red smoke. He watched his own hand fade into red and smolder away, followed by his arm and shirtsleeve. He felt nothing. He looked down at his legs and feet to see them evaporate before his world went completely red. It absorbed him wholly before dissipating to nothingness. The world disappeared around him like pinpoints of red light, leaving him in a black void.
A jarring X appeared within and of the surface of the tree where he had stood just moments before.
It was never determined what happened to Jarred. A search party yielded nothing. But the work had to continue. The interstate had been delayed too long already.
Devon finished spray painting the trees, passing over the ones that had already been painted. He didn’t consciously notice that one was seemingly carved and reabsorbed instead of being painted, it just blurred into the sea of X marks as he continued on, intentionally unaware. He’d heard the ghost stories. Best not to get wrapped up in such drama and just do one’s job…
Eco horror X marking the spot is all that remains, and not for long…
Jennifer Weigel is a multi-disciplinary mixed media conceptual artist residing in Kansas USA. Weigel utilizes a wide range of media to convey her ideas, including assemblage, drawing, fibers, installation, jewelry, painting, performance, photography, sculpture, video and writing. You can find more of her work at:
https://www.jenniferweigelart.com/
https://www.jenniferweigelprojects.com/
https://jenniferweigelwords.wordpress.com/
I wrote this script for Beyond the Veil awhile back, exploring the bond between two twin sisters, Edith and Edna, who had lived their lives together. There was a terrible car crash and someone didn’t make it. The other is trying to contact them beyond the veil…
Beyond the Veil Setting:
Two women reach out to one another individually in a séance setting.
One sits on one side of a dining table. The other sits at the other side. Each studies a candle just beyond her reach; there is darkness between the two candles. The long table is barely hinted at in the interstice between the two but it is clearly present.
The camera is stationary showing both in profile staring through each other.
The women are both portrayed by the same actress who is also the voice of the narrator, who is unseen. All three voices are identical so that it is impossible to tell which of the two women the narrator is supposed to represent.
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Both women are spliced into the same scene. They are together but apart. The two candles remain for the duration of filming so that the two halves of the film can either be overlapped (so that both women appear incorporeal) or cut and sandwiched in the middle between the candles (so both women appear physically present). It is possible to set the scene thusly using both methods in different parts of the story, with both women seemingly flickering in and out of being, both individually and apart.
Script:
I. Black, audio only.
Narrator:
I was riding with my twin sister.
We were in a terrible car crash.
The car drove over the median and rolled.
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It spun off the road where it caught fire.
There was smoke everywhere.
My sister didn’t make it.
II. Fade in to the long table with two lit candles; flames flickering.
Two women are just sitting at either end.
They stare blankly through each other.
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Call and Response
Edith: Now I’m trying to contact her…
Edna: …beyond the veil.
Simultaneous:
Edith: Edna, do you hear me?
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Edna: Edith, do you hear me?
Together (In Unison):
If you hear me, knock three times.
Narrator:
Knock.
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Knock.
Knock.
Call and Response:
Edith: I miss you terribly.
Edna: I miss you so much.
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Edith: Do you remember…
Edna: … the car crash?
Edith: We rolled…
Edna: … over the median.
Edith: There was fire.
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Edna: There was smoke.
Edith: I could hear the sirens.
Edna: They were coming…
Edith: … to rescue us.
Edna: But they were so far away.
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Edith: So far…
Edna: … away….
Simultaneous:
Edith: Are you okay?
Edna: Are you hurt?
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Together (In Unison):
Knock three times for yes. Knock once for no.
Narrator:
Knock
– pause –
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Knock
– pause –
Together (Syncopated):
What’s it like, on the other side?
– long pause –
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Simultaneous:
Edith: I miss you, Edna.
Edna: I miss you, Edith.
Together (Syncopated):
It’s so lonely here.
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Call and Response:
Edith: There’s no one here.
Edna: I’m all alone.
Edith: Without you…
Edna: …the spark of life…
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Edith: …is gone…
Edna: … so far away.
– pause –
Together (Entirely Out of Sync):
It’s so dark.
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III. Fade out to black
Narrator:
I was riding with my twin sister.
We were in a terrible car crash.
The car drove over the median and rolled.
It spun off the road where it caught fire.
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There was smoke everywhere.
I didn’t make it.
I had planned to actually turn this into the video for which it was written, but quickly discovered that my plans for recording required a space that was too drastically different from my new house (and new large gaming table) and that my vision for filming could not be well-fully executed or realized. So now it exists as a script only.
Yeah yeah, the insects tend to get ALL the attention here on Nightmarish Nature. But honestly, this one takes the beefcake. It’s the New World Screwworm Fly, and it’s as terrifying as the name suggests. And they aren’t limited to the Americas, there is an Old World version as well, as they can be found pretty much anywhere tropical or seasonably suited.
Revolting Little Buggers
The Screwworm Fly is a parasitic fly larvae that burrows into its host to feed, named because it seems to screw deeper and deeper into the flesh over time. This process is called myiasis and do NOT look it up online, you WILL regret it. They blur those images out for very valid reasons, trust me (and not because of pornographic content). And these maggots will continue to burrow en masse, rather than staying put as a botfly larvae would.
Do Not Do an Image Search on Screwworm Myiasis, Like Seriously – You Will NEVER Unsee That
The female Screwworm fly lays her eggs on an open wound or orifice of her chosen host… And not just one egg or a couple of eggs, no – hundreds, even thousands of them. Let’s let that sink in a bit, shall we? Or screw in as it were. Although any warm-blooded animal is a prime target, cattle are a fly favorite, costing millions of head of cattle to this sick and disgusting horror annually. And if beef isn’t on the menu, Fido or even yourself might be.
The Great American Worm Wall
In fact, this particular feature here on Nightmarish Nature is so terrifying that the United States has made agreements with all of Central America, even including countries that do not generally share its interests, in order to create a “Great American Worm Wall” to prevent them from spreading back into the United States. I’m not going to go into all of the creepy and juicy details of this bizarre science fiction freak fact, you’ll just have to watch it here on Half As Interesting’s YouTube channel.
Essentially, the Worm Wall is a complicated byproduct of scientists studying radioactivity on the flies’ maturity as well as the flies’ sexual lives and using this information against them to nearly eradicate the species and banish it from much of its former range. So, Peter Parker, if you thought everyone was messing with your love life before, be glad you weren’t bitten by a radioactive Screwworm.
If you’ve enjoyed this segment of Nightmarish Nature, feel free to check out some previous here:
Like I said before, I’m really getting into the spirit of the season this year. So reconsidering The Mourners yet again, and haunting the faith a bit, I decided to share a poem that I wrote thinking about All Hallows Eve as a preview of more things to come this month of October.
On Becoming Hallowed
Holy. Holy. Holy. Light the candle. Chant the hymn.
For now the veil between the living and the dead grows thin.
Fingers held to lips in silence; lies beneath their skin.
Family found, ancestral ghosts return to haunt their kin.
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Skeletons in closets, grotesque yearnings trapped within.
A bleached and bony face flashes a slightly knowing grin.
It’s not the shadows but the darkness that we fear therein.
Bless this Church whose saintly bodies live and dwell herein.
Unto Death, they claim to sanctify our souls from sin.
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Those familiar faces shame; this fight we cannot win.
Come what may, they betray. Pray/prey and heads will spin.
Forevermore and evermore to nevermore… Amen.
I thought this poem really captured All Hallows Eve, in some of the same sentiments as the movie High Spirits, which I loved almost as much as Beetlejuice back in the day.
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