Scary & Freaky stories: The Paranormal World

Skull Lake

Back where I grew up in central Alabama, there’s an old rock quarry deep in the piney woods, abandoned long ago by a mining company. Ask a local, and they’ll direct you to an overgrown dirt road just off the highway past the old Reece Service Station. Follow that road till the end, and you’ll wind up at the edge of a deep, jagged crater. At the bottom of that crater is one of the best swimming holes you’re ever likely to see. Clean, deep, blue water, just waiting to cool you off on a hot summer day.

But don’t be fooled. None of the locals would dare swim in it these days. Especially at night when there’s a full moon out. Everyone says the lake is cursed.

And the truth is, I’m partly to blame for it.

Back when I was a boy, we all got word one day that the county’s largest employer – the Reynolds Mineral Company – had gone bankrupt and was moving out. This was bad news for our parents, who worked the mines for years and were already struggling to get by. But for us boys, halfway through our high school years, it was the best news we’d ever heard.

You see, in those days we didn’t have video games, the internet or shopping malls to keep us amused. When you grew up deep in the country, you had to make your own fun. So with that blazing Alabama sun beating down on us every summer, our quest became to find the next great swimming hole. We knew the Reynolds Mineral Company used a huge lake in their quarry for mining operations. So as soon as the last Reynolds truck rolled away from the site on closing day, we quickly made our plans.

We decided to cut the last day of school and head out to the swimming hole. Although the quarry was several miles deep in the woods, we didn’t want the sheriff coming out to the site, which he just might of done if we waited until the weekend.

Eight of us went out to the lake that day. Marty, Jeff and I were best friends and the oldest of the bunch. The rest were a bunch of younger boys we barely knew and didn’t want tagging along. But they threatened to tell on us if we didn’t.

Marty snuck a couple of cases of beer away from his daddy, while Jeff took his brother’s truck. As soon as we were out of our parents’ eyesight, we ditched our schoolbooks and took off – us older boys in the cab, and the five kids in the back.

As we drove toward the old mining company turnoff, we passed back and forth a couple of times, trying not to draw attention from passing cars. But when the coast was clear, Jeff gunned his truck down that long wooded road. He laughed and hollered as the truck bounced wildly on the rough road, tossing those brat kids around in the back like a bunch of rag dolls!

After a mile or so the road leveled out, and I gazed out at the endless rows of pine trees zipping past us. I remember the woods seemed to close in on us the deeper we went, enveloping us in a thick blanket of pine branches. Even with all the laughter and the roar of the truck, I remember how still those woods were. Not a single plane could be heard overhead. Not a bird chirping, nor a fly buzzing – no natural sound at all. Just rows and rows of trees, stretching endlessly into the dark forest beyond. I wondered who, or what, must live back there in the darkness…

“…Hey, wake up, space man!” yelled Marty, cramming a cold beer into my hand. I smiled and took a big swig, my anticipation building once again.

The road suddenly ended in a locked gate with an ominous “No Trespassing” sign. But the simple padlock was no match for Jeff. Jeff had learned a thing or two about picking locks from his older brother, who was constantly in and out of jail for petty burglaries of some sort. So Jeff whipped out one of his mother’s hairpins and in no time at all, picked that lock and tossed it in the woods. Jeff rammed his truck through the gate and roared back down the road, howling with laughter.