PROJECT STOKER PART 1: TEASER
“The truth is far more frightening - Nobody is in control.”
Alan Moore
EPISODE TWO
Part One
April 9th, 2013
Two Hours West of San Javier, Chile
9:00pm Local Time
It was three weeks ago when it started. One night it was one. Another night it was too. When it was the fifth night that the cattle got out, that was when his uncle went out to find out what exactly was happening. There was nothing on the sixth or seventh night. But on the eighth was when they found his body.
And then on the tenth, one one of the cows got out again.
The cycle continued.
Ranch life was all that Miguel knew. His family had been ranchers in the Zona Sur region of Chile for decades. It was in their blood. But that blood was thinning and times were getting tougher and most of Miguel’s cousins were moving north to make ends meet in Chile’s agricultural heartland for wine. Secretly, Miguel wished he could join them but he wanted to be close to his father, uncle and grandfather. Now with only his father and grandfather left, he was haunted by the sight of what little remained of his uncle on this cool spring evening. Their cattle ranch was located about two and half hours away San Javier by truck, and while local officials believed that foul play was unlikely in the death of his uncle, his grandfather believed it to be the work of El Peuchen , which was way they were burning what he considered sacred smoke to help purify the site.
Miguel’s father just made sure the rifle he had had the ammo it needed to deal with whoever was making a mess of their cattle. And possible take out who took his brother from him. With a small tug of his father’s sleeve, the bearded man turned to face his twenty year old son.
“What is it,” he whispered in Spanish.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Miguel questioned.
“Yes. We will get the bastard.”
“And grandfather is here because-”
“He insisted Miguel. It was his son too.”
“But grandfather thinks its El Peuch-”
“Its not,” Miguel’s father interrupted.
The silence returned to the three as they lay there over the ridge looking from afar at their herd of cattle. The large farm animals were silent save for the occasional grunt or classic mooing that the heifers are known to do from time to time. What really struck out to Miguel was that with all that was going on, the cattle seemed more or less unfazed by it all. They weren’t as spooked as he thought they would be. Something that he really couldn’t figure out if it settled well in his stomach or not.
A nudge to his right had him look over to his elderly grandfather who smiled behind the smoking sage. The old man quickly signed to Miguel in the faint light that the night was providing.
“Are you okay grandson?”
“I’ll be okay,” Miguel signed back, “Better when this is over.”
“It will be soon. El Peuchen will leave from this spell. And your uncle will be able to rest in peace.”
The old man smiled and kept the smoke bellowing. Miguel’s grandfather was his deceased mother’s father. He stayed with them after she had died a few years ago. Miguel’s father had an odd relationship with the man, for he never learned to sign since he relied on his wife, now Miguel, to do so.
The night continued. The moon was waning but there was enough light from it and the stars to illuminate the pasture’s shadows. While his father was alert, Miguel was noticing that his grandfather was struggling to stay awake. Something he two was dealing with.
“Papa,” Miguel whispered, “I don’t think it's happening tonight. Maybe it’s finally done and the cattle just got out by accident. I must have forgotten to lock up the other night.”
Miguel’s father shook his head, “Son, I appreciate it. But you know better. You don’t forget to lock up. Those cattle are our livelihood and you are more than aware of that. No, they will come tonight.”
“And then you’ll--”
“Make sure they don’t do it again. And if they did have a hand in my brother’s death. They for sure won’t do it again.”
Miguel gulped and nodded. His father had always been a stern man but a killer he never thought. It had been such a trying year. Maybe his uncle’s death and this thing with the cattle was the breaking point.
Because things had not been the same since his mother died.
Miguel was going to say something to comfort his father but noticed a tremble in his father’s hands that shook the gun.
“Dad, are you okay?”
“Yes,” he gruffed,” But can you look at the cattle?”
Miguel nodded and looked towards the cattle.
But then realized he couldn’t.
He was struggling to look forward to the cattle.
Every time he moved his head to look straight forward, it hurt.
He trembled.
He wanted to look.
But he couldn't.
“Do you hear that?” He said to his father.
His father nodded as they both could now hear a low sound. It was like a hum. But also something akin to a rainmaker. It was a chattery sound. Like something was vibrating against each other. It wasn’t loud. It was barely audible. Though Miguel started to realize that if he looked away from the cattle, the noise was less audible and it was easier to see but the moment he turned his head to face the herd in their pen, it was almost vomit inducing.
Suddenly his grandfather got up, took off his shirt and wrapped it amongst a branch before charging towards the pen.
“What is that old bastard doing?!” Shouted Miguel’s father who was trying to look forward with all his might. His hands weren’t even on this gun anymore. They were trying to cover his ears that seemed to be leaking.
Miguel touched his ears, seeing they too were leaking blood. But he couldn’t figure out what to do. He and his father were struggling to keep up with what was going on amongst the pain, but their grandfather seemed unaffected.
Unaffected, Miguel realized, because he couldn’t hear.
That’s when Miguel also realized that his grandfather was trying to make a fire at whatever was at the pen. The cattle seemed more afraid of Miguel’s grandfather than whatever he was heading to. Could they not see who or what it was either?
His father started to scream. The noise was starting to get unbearable. It was like whatever was happening didn’t want to be seen by them and was punishing them with trying too. Never had Miguel ever experienced anything like it.
And then suddenly, it stopped.
The last thing before the experience ended that Miguel saw was his grandfather, holding a flaming torch like a primeval man, screaming at the thing that was the source of the noise. It was caught in the act of using its terrifying clawed hand in undoing the latch for the paddock. The cattle erupted in a chorus of panic as they now could see what had been letting them out at night. The unnatural thing hissed at his grandfather before suddenly lunging at the old man with fangs bared. Miguel tried to pull himself and his father up to run away before it could see them. But it was already upon them like the shadow in the night that it was. There was no time for screaming as the creature had moved across the distance of the paddock to where they were hiding in moments giving them no time to escape. No time to even come to terms that death was upon them by something that made Miguel wish he believed it was El Peuchin as the creature behind them started to severe their lives and bodies to a horrific end; with its teeth and claws.
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