Horror Short Story: A Letter to Isaiah

  

 This is a short story I wrote for a horror workshop class in my English Master's program at UTC. It is based on my experience in my undergrad program at a cult-like Christian college near a tiny town in rural Arkansas. The horror elements include an unreliable narrator, an extremely restrictive atmosphere, confusion, untreated mental illness, spiritual gaslighting, religious abuse, sexual assault, and murder.

When considering what to write about during the horror workshop, I decided to focus on my experience at Ouachita Hills College, because I really didn't have to change many details of my experience in order to write it as a horror story. As far as I know, no one has ever been murdered at the school, but due to the realism of other aspects of this story, it may be upsetting for some readers. If you went to OHC or have any unprocessed trauma about religious abuse, spiritual gaslighting or sexual assault, please take care of yourself. Depending on where you're at in your experience, you might feel validated, or you might feel triggered. You may want to skip this one or make sure you have someone to talk to if any difficult feelings come up.

Here are a couple of great resources:

Suicide Hotline: dial or text 988

Crisis Textline: text 741741

Please call or text if you need support - there's no shame in reaching out. I can say from experience that it's really helpful to have an anonymous person to talk to when I'm feeling alone and overwhelmed.

#####

Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.

Isaiah 41:10, King James Version

“A Letter to Isaiah”

“Dear Isaiah, I know you’re long dead, but I don’t think God is answering me right now. I’m writing you this mental letter because if I wrote it in my journal, my mom would find it and then...well...she’s already worried about my soul; I don’t want to know what she would do if she had proof of my rebellious thoughts. Anyway, I have serious issues with some of the things you wrote.”

My skin prickled as I lay draped over a musty bale, composing my mental letter and staring up at the circling buzzards. They were now close enough to show their naked pink heads and the silver glint of their wings in the afternoon sun. It was an oppressive fall day in the Ozarks, and the bale held me suspended between heaven and earth, offering me as a sacrifice. An avian shriek echoed against the low hills, reverberating between my ears and raising bumps on my arms. Vultures didn’t kill live animals, did they?

The trees on the edges of the field rustled ominously as I lifted my wrist and squinted. The word escaped my mouth before I could catch it.

“Shoot!”

A distant herd of deer startled with a harsh whistle as I popped upright and slid to the ground. Ignoring the pain shooting up from my heels, I hastily brushed shards of hay off my clothes and began to jog across the field toward an opening in the trees. Secondary Bible Methods began in three minutes, and I was about four minutes away, where the boundaries of campus edged the hay fields and woods. My skirt twisted around my ankles as I sprinted, my fists pumping, and my frizzy hair yanking loose from its braid. Mrs. W kept strict attendance, and if I was even one minute late, it would affect my grade. I had already met with the disciplinary committee once that year over my tardy count.

One minute till, I burst through the glass front doors and slowed to a breathless walk, thankful my skirt covered my dirty bare feet. There wasn’t enough time to find my shoes before I silently twisted the classroom door handle and slipped into my second-row desk.

Ranna turned in her seat beside me with a pious smile, her eyes measuring. “Did you memorize the Scripture verse for today? She’s going to test us on it.”

My head spun, “I forgot! Can I see your flashcard?”

As class began, my stomach cramped, unhappy with the five minutes' worth of lunch I had picked at. Cold sweet potato noodles weren’t my favorite, and I didn’t have much desire to force them down. Besides, I was pretty sure my thinness pleased God, my parents, and Aaron. Even though my family lived on campus, and I could have gone home for lunch, I’d decided to eat in the cafeteria, in hopes I might see Aaron there. Catching a glimpse of his thick black hair and broad shoulders would sustain me for the rest of the day, even though we couldn't sit together and eat. There were too many eyes watching. The cafeteria had echoed happily around me as I’d emptied my bowl in the trash and handed it to a hairnetted young man in the dish room who was humming “Faith is the Victory” as he worked. The guy seemed nice, but everyone knew he was at college to find a wife.

“Thank you, sister!” he’d grinned, his glasses fogging with steam from the dishwasher. I smiled back, my skin crawling with his attention, my thoughts on Aaron. A quick glance around the room told me he wasn’t there, so I’d left and headed to the hay field. It had taken nearly half an hour of baking in the sun and watching the vultures to forget the dark fog I’d noticed in my peripheral vision as I left the cafeteria.

Now my body was empty and I couldn’t help but remember the darkness. It hovered just out of my sight, always on the edge of my subconsciousness. The orange plastic desk chair grated against my bones, and I shifted forwards to rest my elbows on the desk, holding my chin in my hands. On my right, Lenora’s desk was empty again. She’d been hiding in her dorm room for a few days now, apparently recovering from the flu. I started to wonder how she was doing, then my mind drifted back to my unfinished letter. .

“You still there? I’m not expecting you to believe me – I’m not even sure I believe myself, but something is hunting me. I can’t see it, but I can feel it following me around campus. Whatever it is came to my room last night. I was almost asleep when my chest collapsed. It was like the devil himself was sitting on me, filling me with darkness and fear. My body felt so heavy; I couldn't breathe, or even wiggle my fingers.”

Remembering that night, the warmth I’d gathered from outside melted away, replaced by a chill that sank deep into my bones. As class waxed on, the expressionless walls of the room shifted closer and squeezed the air out. A low buzz started in my brain and worked its way through to my extremities, numbing my fingertips and toes. I faintly registered Mrs. W’s cheerful tone as I glanced up at the clock. One hour left…could I make it? I was safe inside a brick and metal building, but the vultures – or was it the darkness? - circled closer, stalking me.

I had to sneak out of class early. The empty, carpeted hall seemed to watch me as I padded towards the library where I had left my shoes. I held my breath and pretended I was invisible as I passed the students in their study carrels.

Caught! One of the male students glanced up and then bounced his eyes back to the little red book he held open in his hands. I plucked at my neckline with numb fingers, hoping I hadn’t been showing too much skin. My chest constricted as I wondered if he thought I was trying to jeopardize his salvation. “You need to be careful!” my mother’s voice echoed in my thoughts, “All it takes is one look and he’ll never get it out of his mind. He can pull it up like a Rolodex and lust over you any time he wants.”

Thankfully, the college had a reputation of safety, both physically and spiritually. Campus was a handful of metal and brick buildings scattered over a lush spot of green, guarded by pine forests. There were five miles of gravel road between us and the nearest town, which was populated by less than three hundred people. A trip to Walmart was forty-five minutes, one-way. There was nobody off-campus to worry about; even the local townsfolk avoided us, whispering that the school was a cult.

On campus, the rules kept us safe from each other and sin. The school dress code kept everyone covered and free from sexual temptation, the Wi-Fi network was heavily guarded by firewalls, and the cell service was spotty too, due to campus being so remote. The vegan diet at the cafeteria kept everyone thin, and the twice-daily group devotional sessions kept us close to God. “This place is Heaven on Earth.” I’d heard some people say.

“The women are so modest! I don’t have to worry about temptation here.”

“I left a public university to attend this school because they follow the principles of true education! I got so tired of struggling not to objectify the women in my classes. God knows how often I cried out to Him in prayer for help. It turns out, this place was His answer.”

That last statement was from Aaron, a Theology major, and the man I felt God was preparing for me. He was considered a spiritual leader; everyone was shocked when he’d given his testimony in assembly. The conversation in the women’s dorm that night was energetic.

“He’s such a man of God. I never would have imagined he struggled with this issue.”

“I know! I love studying the Bible with him. He has an incredible way of explaining the Word!”

Aaron and I had originally been drawn to each other when he saw me practicing the guitar chords for a scripture song. Since then, Aaron and I had spent most evenings together in the library, or on the benches in front of the administration building, talking and playing music together. He had such a beautiful singing voice, dressed well, and carried himself with purpose. My whole body ached whenever he was near. We weren’t calling our relationship a courtship yet, but when he’d told me he felt God impressing him to get to know me better, my heart soared.

I wished we could spend time together, just the two of us, but the staff watched the student body for budding relationships. I was twenty-five and he was thirty, but we couldn’t court without gaining official permission, and dating was out of the question. Relationships were generally discouraged, according to school policy, but if the disciplinary committee approved of the match, they would allow the couple to spend time together in group settings, in order to avoid the appearance of evil. I wasn’t exactly on the faculty’s good side, so they were unlikely to give Aaron and I permission. My parents were staff members and my mom hadn’t been shy about telling the president about what she called my “rebellious streak”.

It started when I was grounded as a kid. I’d told my mother I wasn’t hungry for breakfast and she responded by taking away my CD player, my radio, my books, and everything else that I used to cope. in response, I picked up a composition book and started to write stories in order to escape my reality.

One story I wrote as a teen was about a mysterious forest boy who saw me and understood I needed to be rescued. When my mom later searched my room for contraband, she’d found my composition book and taken it and anything else I could use to write. I considered cutting myself and writing on the wall in blood, but I didn’t want to get in any more trouble. I settled for getting lost in my imagination and banging my head on the wall when no one was watching.

Ever since finding my journal when I was a teen, my mom worried I was boy crazy, and even though I was now in my mid-20's, she warned the school president about my dramatic nature and tendencies to be attracted to men. That’s why I was trying so hard to keep my head down and not cause any trouble. I desperately wanted to prove I was trustworthy and surrendered to God's plan for my life. Otherwise, I would never be allowed to court and maybe marry Aaron. Otherwise, I would graduate as a single woman and a godly man might not consider me a suitable wife. Otherwise, I would be stuck under my parents' care until they found a man for me to marry.

#####

I found the first body that weekend after church, while I was on my way to explore the low foothills surrounding campus. The students had been warned about hunters and told to wear bright orange when they went walking, but I knew where all the hunting stands and hog stomping grounds were. I felt safer in the woods than anywhere else on campus, just because I knew no one would be watching me there.

I crossed the wide field again, seeking the shade of the trees and the cool water of the creek. As I approached the tree line, there was a cry and an explosion of black feathers as thirty or forty vultures scattered out of the tall grass and climbed into the sky with powerful pumps of their wings. The sweet must of death wafted towards me and I pulled my collar over my nose as I skirted the area where they had been. They must have found a deer carcass or something.

But as I waded through the waving grass and down the creek bank, I could feel the darkness. It swirled in the air around me like an evil presence, raising the hair on my arms and squeezing my bones. With a sudden surety, I knew the vultures weren’t feeding on a deer. Reluctantly, I reversed my steps and approached the trampled area where they had been feasting. At first, I thought it was just a heap of rags, but then I saw bright crimson glistening against ivory and a tuft of blond ringlets shivering against the ground.

Lenora. She was the only one with hair like that. That was her favorite skirt, with all the tiny blue flowers. She thought it made her thin frame look more womanly. Now she wasn’t even human. I couldn’t breathe; my hands were clamped over my nose and mouth, holding in the scream. Those were my hands, weren’t they? Why were my feet moving forwards? Where was I going?

The earth spun around me as I fell to my hands and knees. The breeze roared in my ears and I caught a snatch of melody, “O glorious victory that overcomes the world!”

#####

When I stumbled back to campus, and found the source of the singing, my lungs were on fire. The dishwasher boy hummed happily as he studied at the picnic table under a tree. As I stalked towards him, he glanced up, “Oh hi, sister, wha-”

Then I had a hold of his wrist and was dragging him back down the hill towards the field and the woods. “Sister, I don’t think this is appropriate!” he protested, half-heartedly trying to extricate his sleeve from my iron grip.

“Lenora.” I wheezed.

“What about Lenora? What’s going on?”

“Dead.” Then he was free and running ahead of me, towards the circling column of birds.

When we reached the scene where I’d left Lenora, I pointed towards the crushed grass, and dishwasher boy rushed ahead. I think I must have passed out after that because I came back to a pounding head, a small pebble under my ribs, and a circle of concerned faces floating above me. How had this many faculty gotten down to the field so quickly? Then, I shifted and realized that I wasn’t in the field anymore. I was laying on the picnic table, and the rock was dishwasher boy’s pencil that they hadn’t thought to move before they laid me down.

I sat up and clutched my head, rocking back and forth to distract myself from the pain.

“Sweetie, hold on, don’t move too much yet. You were running and passed out from heat exhaustion.”

“Give her some water.”

A water bottle was pressed into my hands and I gulped at it eagerly. My mother and a few other staff members stared at me solicitously. I lowered the bottle as my mind registered what they had said.

“I wasn’t running. I mean, I, I found – oh God, I found -”

“Remember the third commandment,” someone admonished under their breath.

“Joseph!” My mother snapped out, “Let her talk.”

“It was Lenora. In the field. Her bones were out, and there was blood everywhere I saw her hair; I know it was her.” My lips went numb as I began to shake.

The president spoke up, “Honey, I don’t know what you saw, but it wasn’t Lenora. She was sent home yesterday.”

“Home?” My brain was spinning out of control. “Why? Why was she sent home?”

The staff members glanced at each other and the women’s dean answered carefully, “She had made the decision to go against one of the school policies and we felt that this was no longer the right place for her to be.”

“But I saw her! I saw her skirt! It had the blue flowers.”

Everyone was staring at me. I took another gulp of water to give myself a second to think.

My mom put her hand on my shoulder and rubbed her thumb against the seam of my sleeve, “It sounds like you’re under some kind of spiritual attack again, honey. This is how the devil works; he tries to convince us of things that aren’t real. Remember what you learned about surrender? If you give your heart to Jesus, the devil can’t even get close to you.”

“I know what I saw!”

“She has some tendencies towards the dramatic.” My mother explained to the other staff members.

“Why don’t we lay hands on you and pray right now?” the men’s dean suggested hopefully. Everyone agreed and suddenly there were hands resting heavily on my head, arms, and shoulders, anchoring me down to reality.

I closed my eyes as a voice rose in prayer.

#####

I didn’t want to tell Aaron about my little episode down in the field, but I knew he would hear about it from the dishwasher boy, so I decided to be preemptive. As we sat on the bench outside the administration building, holding our guitars, I told him what I had done. He listened quietly, with concern in his dark eyes, “It definitely sounds like you were under attack. I know it’s possible for your senses to be deceived when you’re not in harmony with the Holy Spirit.”

“But I was so sure...” My voice shook a little.

“Is there something in your heart you’re struggling with surrendering to God? If there is, that could be why he stepped away from you. You know nothing can keep God from you except yourself.”

My cheeks grew hot under his gaze. He must have known that the Holy Spirit had impressed me to give up my evening times with him and I had said no.

“Well, there is...something...that I’ve been struggling with.”

“I think I know what it is. I’ve been struggling with something myself. I’ve been praying about it, and after hearing what happened with you, I think it would be better if we spent less time together. I don’t want to become an idol between you and God.”

As he gathered his guitar and left, my heart fell out of my body. Aaron, the light of my world, was rejecting me too. My future narrowed to a tiny, distant point.

#####

The following days felt like years. Aaron and I passed each other on campus, ate in the same cafeteria, and sat in some of the same classes, but we didn’t speak. I knew he was trying to support me spiritually, but it still felt like we were a thousand miles away from each other. I hid my grief, not wanting my mom to notice and grow suspicious.

According to her, there was some kind of evil spirit affecting the girls on campus. She came home one evening and mentioned how Amber, one of my fellow Education majors, had been acting sullen and withdrawn.

“I can go talk with her, and see if she’s ok.” I offered. Amber and I weren’t exactly close, but we were on good terms.

“No, that’s not a good idea. You’re sensitive to bad attitudes, and I don’t want her to rub off on you.”

That was the end of that conversation. I left Amber alone, and continued to wallow in my grief. A few days later, as I was wading across the creek, I saw her body floating face down, wedged against a fallen log. Her naked torso gleamed evilly in a spot of sunlight spearing through the trees, and her sandaled heels swayed lightly just under the surface of the water. The smell of death and the sound of her body bouncing against the log trailed as I ran home and locked myself in my room to pray. If I told anyone, I’d lose my last chance with Aaron. The next day, I heard the news. Amber had left the school voluntarily, dissatisfied with the lifestyle. Good thing I hadn’t tried to talk with her; I might have ended up leaving too.

#####

“Dear Isaiah, it’s me again. I don’t know what to do. I keep seeing horrible things, and I am so scared it’s the devil oppressing me. If I could stop thinking about Aaron, maybe God would hear my prayers and protect me. Every day, I try to surrender my thoughts, but they just keep coming back. Is my rebelliousness giving the devil an opening into my mind?”

I clamped the pencil’s metal band between my teeth and squeezed, leaving a couple of tiny dents in the silver and green. It was Wednesday night assembly, when a student or staff member would present on a wholesome topic in front of the entire student body. I was alone in the back of the auditorium, taking notes.

Things had been quieter around campus. Amber had been influential in the women’s dorm, and she seemed to have taken the bad spirit with her when she left. Everyone had fallen back into the rhythm of classes, looking forward to the upcoming missionary trips. Several times during the school year, the whole student body was split up into small groups of eight to fifteen people, and these groups traveled to nearby states to stay with churches and do outreach. I struggled to enjoy these missionary trips, because I was never put in a group with Aaron, and I wondered if he would forget about me during the few weeks we were apart. Not that we were together; I just hoped he wouldn’t decide to pursue another girl. There were so many godly women on campus, and I knew I was pushing my luck that Aaron even considered me, rebellious as I was. Maybe he saw my heart and good intentions?

I spun the pencil between my fingers and tried to focus on the sermon. The constant darkness hovered in my peripheral vision, just out of sight. At one point, I had tried to explain the feeling to my mom, but she told me it was the demon of fear, trying to possess me.

“You have to claim the promise in Isaiah 41, sweetie. Remember, it says that God is with you, be not dismayed.”

I tried so hard to claim the promise, but the darkness remained, haunting me in daylight and suffocating me at night. I knew God wasn’t with me anymore.

#####

It was the night before our mission trip, and I was assigned to a small, one-van group that was staying in state, albeit a few hours away. Aaron’s name was listed in a two-van group that was traveling out of state. I scanned the list of names and my heart sank at all the girls he’d be going with. Some of them were the ones he studied the Bible with; ones who were far more virtuous woman material than I was. My chances to get to know him better were slipping away.

As I stood in the Administration building’s lobby, staring sadly at the bulletin board, the familiar ache squeezed my chest. He was behind me. I slowly turned and met his gaze with a practiced smile.

“Are you excited about New Mexico?”

He stepped closer and nodded slowly. “The only thing I’m not happy about is that we are in different groups. There are so many guys in your team. I am worried one of them will try to get close to you.”

I couldn’t breathe. “Does that mean you want to -?”

“Yes, I want to be with you.” His voice lowered. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and I think it means God is telling me to pursue you.”

“Oh-” The future suddenly seemed so close, so bright.

“But I think it’s best if we stay focused on the Lord’s work for this trip, and not contact each other until we get back. Maybe if we show that we are putting God first, the staff will see what a good couple we would make.”

I could only nod and grin at the floor. My dreams were coming true, and I knew the next weeks would fly by. Aaron said goodbye and pushed through the double doors, out into the humid darkness. He would go back to his dorm to finish packing, and I would grab my laptop before heading home to do the same.

The lone overhead light pole cast a bright circle in front of the Administration building, illuminating the parking lot and the beginning of the gravel road leading across campus to my house. As I slipped my arms through my backpack straps and stepped through the puddle of light, the crickets and humidity surrounded me like a thick blanket of sound. The walk home took a full ten minutes, so I let my thoughts wander back to Aaron to pass the time. He had been so earnest and caring just now; I knew he saw me and valued my heart. The thick pine forest on both sides of the road rose up black and tall, showing the narrow, starlit path forward. My chest swelled as I imagined Aaron waiting for me.

Above the sound of crunching gravel and droning insects, a noise caught my attention. A whisper, a low answer, a moan, nearby in the trees. I froze and swiveled, searching for movement in the black night. A slight rustle of clothing, a zipper, another moan, and I knew something was terribly wrong. That sound was wicked, something you only heard on TV, something that meant sin. I had to know -

“Oh, Aaron,” a distinctly female voice quivered against the plush darkness, “I don’t know about this.”

I recognized the vise on my chest now. A sinful version of Aaron answered, “Just relax, beloved. Love like this is the greatest gift from God.”

I must have traveled to hell in that moment; my body was on fire. Love? Aaron was making love to...to Ranna? Surely this was another dream, a delusion from the devil, sent to distract me before my mission trip. The air was too thick to breathe now, surely I would suffocate. My traitorous ears strained to hear more, even as I struggled to inhale.

Her voice barely floated over the sounds of pine needles rustling, of hands on skin. “I’ll wait for you. When this mission trip is done, we can petition the committee for permission to court.”

“Yes, I know you’d wait for me forever.”

I could almost hear him smiling. The tones of movement changed then, from kissing to choking, from stroking to struggling. Aaron’s breathing intensified, and the pine needles crunched aggressively under their feet. I couldn’t hear Ranna anymore, only a strange gurgling, and the pound of fists against flesh. Too soon, the noises quieted, and I felt the weight of her body as it hit the ground. Aaron chuckled, and I knew I had to get off the road before he noticed me.

As he gathered Ranna’s body and climbed out of the forest, up the bank to the road, I prayed he wouldn’t see my form lying in the opposite ditch. Footsteps gained the gravel, then moved away. I lifted my head slightly, but all I could see was a lone figure, stalking down the road towards the hayfield, a small burden slung over its broad shoulder.

#####

“Isaiah, you failed me again. I went to you for guidance, and all you gave me was promises that don’t work. God isn’t with me, and He can’t hear my prayers. I guess I’m on my own now.”

I lay in my bed, shivering uncontrollably all that night, replaying the image of a dark figure moving away down the road. Could I have imagined it all? Would anyone believe me if I told them what I saw? Aaron had killed three girls now, and I had no doubt I would be his next victim, given a little more time. Who could I go to for help?

When morning finally lightened the room, I knew I had to tell someone, even if they didn’t believe me. I owed it to Lenora, Amber, and now Ranna. I owed it to myself. Wrapping my arms around my throbbing heart, I headed towards the living room, where I knew my mom would be having her early morning devotions. The windows opened on a thin blue sky, showcasing the outline of the pine forest and the tiny black vultures flying high above. I turned away woodenly and focused on speaking. My mom’s eyes widened as I told her about what I’d heard and seen in the woods, and she quickly pulled me down on the couch beside her.

“Oh honey, I can tell you’re really afraid. You know there’s no danger here on campus, except spiritually. Is it possible you don’t want to go on this mission trip? Maybe the enemy is trying to keep you from experiencing the blessing of serving others.”

I stiffened. There was no plan for this. If she didn’t believe me, what would I do next? Was there anyone who would believe me? My mom stared at me with concern.

“I understand how you’re feeling right now, but you have to take your thoughts captive and give them to God. You can’t allow fear to control you.”

“Aaron killed those girls.”

“That isn’t possible. Aaron is a godly man, one that I hope you’ll someday be worthy to marry. The girls you mentioned are all safe at home. You have got to get a hold of this fear or it will consume your life.”

She flipped through her Bible to the dreaded verse, “Let’s practice claiming the promise together. ‘Fear not, for I am with you.’ Say it with me - ‘Do not be dismayed, for I am your God’.”

“Dear Isaiah, I think I understand now. Fear is just in my head, and God is with me all the time. Can I ever escape Him?”