Searching For You

Vol. 119: No. 2 in The Scary Songbook Collection

Inspired by “Walking After Midnight” by Patsy Cline

Black Hollow is a village so small that you won’t find it on most maps, even ones that are just of the state of Kentucky. Hidden in the Appalachian Mountains, it hardly takes up more space than the time it takes an automobile to drive the slow, gentle curves up into the heavy forests of Black Mountain. The trees here grow so thickly that they block the sun for much of the day. The people can’t help but take on some of this darkness themselves.

It had previously been a hamlet, but by October 30th,1948, its population had grown to 232. That number actually shows a loss of three residents in one week. Two died. The third is relaying the recent events.

You wouldn’t think there would be such wickedness in a place of this size, but I can verify that there is. I know because I see it all when I look in the windows on my rounds every night. I see my neighbors yelling at each other, flaying each other’s skin off with their slashing words. I see them shaking their children in rage, I see furious husband’s striking their wives. Sometimes I see my neighbors naked and behaving like animals, and that’s what boils my blood, that I know people who do these things. God tests us with temptation and not many can resist, which is why man is born of sin. The majority of my neighbors are weak, wicked sinners, but that’s not what I’m looking for. I am seeking out evil.

You may not be able to discern the difference, but I can. Wickedness is the seed upon which human souls thrive. It is weakness. It is in nearly every living being, and for too many, they don’t even try to fight it. I have conquered wickedness. It does not live in me.

Evil is far worse than wickedness. It is found in men, women and children, turning them into Satan’s Soldiers and causing them to invite Satan to take refuge in their bodies and to command them to do Godless things. I had been questioning the Godliness of my neighbors for some time when I was shown absolute proof of pure evil in the village. I witnessed the sacrificing ceremony of the Merriman baby.

On October 29^th, I, Clementine Ballard, witnessed Ronald and Salome Merriman burning the body of their baby in the field behind the pond. In attendance was Sheriff Gus Feller, Ronald’s parents, Elray and Tula Merriman, and Salome’s younger brother, TD Lewis. I watched from the woods as this group of Satan’s Soldiers danced and sung in the cold foggy night, calling out to their Dark Lord to accept their offering and to give them his blessings in return. I do not know if the baby was alive or dead at the beginning of the ritual as I came upon the event near its closing. I did not hear cries from the baby, though it was barely more than a newborn.

After their Satanic ritual was done, Ronald Merriman, TD Lewis, and Sheriff Feller placed the remains into a small wooden box and placed it in a hole, covering it and marking the spot so they could use the ashes of the innocent at a later time. Then they went inside, where the whole group feasted on the baby’s internal organs, which must have been removed beforehand. I waited. When the Sheriff left, the lights inside went out and I knew they were done for the night. It was about two in the morning. I removed the box and took it to a secret place where I gave it a Christian burial. It couldn’t be placed in the church graveyard because it hadn’t been baptized.

You may ask what I was doing in the woods at that time. I will tell you that God came to me that morning with a vision of the evil lurking in Black Hollow, a frightening vision that showed me the clawed hand of Satan, fingers stretching across the perpetually dark sky over our village, and the fingers of the other hand plowing through the earth, under our homes and livestock, digging through the soil of Black Hollow to then spring up and crush us all in his taloned grip. I did not want this vision, but when the Lord chooses you, it is not for you to question. This is why I was walking the woods alone after my rounds of looking in the windows of the general store and my neighbor’s homes. The Lord led me to the ceremony. I was armed with my cross and the Bible, and also my father’s deer knife, but this wasn’t my moment to act.

I have been targeted by the evil in Black Hollow. It has noted my presence and follows me, forming plans. I feel it in every bone. This will be war. I had hoped that the preacher would be an ally.

I went to him on Wednesday morning, another dark morning where the black clouds sat right above our village like a crow spreading it’s black wings above a doomed mouse. My long skirts and cloth coat were damp with the floating mist. The Autumn leaves covering the ground tumbled about in a way that disturbed me, as the piles moved like something was alive underneath. It was cold and muddy and I told myself again that I had to finish knitting those mittens. My hair was kept out of my face only because I had taken to wearing my grandmother’s bonnet, a practical black thing that tied under the chin. It is not the current fashion and that made it more appealing to me. Pride is a sin.

I entered the church without knocking, for why should a person with my important task wait to be invited into the Lord’s house? Scrawny little Brother Aames was there polishing the pews and greeted me with “Sister Clem!” No one had called me Clem since Trellis Callahan had said it mockingly years ago in school and I had bloodied his nose for it. But Brother Aames is an outsider, having come to Black Hollow fourteen years ago. He retains the strange ways of his Tennessee people, and he is old, so I maintain my civility.

“Clementine will do, Brother. I have come to ask you to join me in the Lord’s work.”

“Oh, yes?” he said, seating himself at the pew he’d been polishing. I can see he is weary of me, but I have attended his sermons every Sunday and paid attention, unlike most of the congregation. His sermons are frivolous and he seems to intentionally avoid talking about the Bible, but I’ve attended and Brother Aames owes me his loyalty. The wind began howling outside, a sign that I need to get this settled quickly.

“I’ve been meaning to come to your place out there. How’s your daddy? We haven’t seen him in weeks,” he says with a forced smile.

“He is comfortable, thank you. No need to trouble yourself.”

“No trouble, no trouble. What’s this work you have for me?”

“The Lord has chosen me to root out that which has been allowed to grow in Black Hollow. Worshipers of Satan. Here. Among us.”

Brother Aames’s eyes grew large as he listened, but then he sighed.

“Sister Clementine, I believe that falls under my job description.”

“It does,” I countered, “but you have failed at that job.”

I walked down the aisle towards him and he stood up and took a step backwards to put the pew between us. He cowered. His weakness made me sick.

“Brother, you have allowed Satan’s Soldiers to thrive right under your nose. They are propagating. Pro-pa-gating! They are performing rituals right in Black Hollow. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, and you’ve stood by and allowed it to happen. That’s why God has chosen me to step up and fight for him and for the very soul of Black Hollow! Will you assist me, Brother Aames?”

The man stood there with his weak mouth juttering, a “you, you, you,” coming out. Finally he said, “Have you been...no, I’m not joining you, Clementine, but I ask that you stay here. I want us to pray together.”

“God isn’t moved by you, Brother Aames,” I told him. “I was just seein’ where your loyalty lies.”

I walked up the aisle and yanked the door open. The powerful wind nearly pushed me back in.

So now it was perfectly clear that God wanted me to fight alone. That suited me fine.

I went out again at midnight, for that is the witching hour and the time that Satan wants for himself. I made my rounds, looking in windows and listening at doors. I fought my way through the heavy fog of the woods to the Merrimans, watching to see if they were out in the moonlight, hoping they would be. It was quiet, the house dark. The hole I had pulled the box from hadn’t been filled in, signifying that they hoped for its return. That would never happen. I walked past the other markers, climbing over the iron fence at the backside of their little family graveyard and entered the witch woods.

The wind was pulsating, vibrating the air, telling me that I grew closer and closer and closer to what I’d been searching for, and then I heard the crack of thunder, and I knew it for the sound of Satan breaching our world. I was not afraid. God was right to place His trust in me.

My bonnet stayed firmly in place while my clothes whipped furiously. I was shaking from the cold, not fear, but my comfort didn’t matter. I felt Satan was near.

I took my Bible from my left pocket and Daddy’s knife from the right, and I crept through the woods as the rain began to fall. It came with blinding flashes of lightening and I got the message: the Lord was lighting my way.

And then thunder crashed and the ground under my feet shook, and I witnessed Satan emerging from the grove of red oaks. He was eight feet tall and covered in scales of shiny black and blood red. He had the curled and crusty horns of a ram and the narrow black eyes of a snake. I saw the reflection of the yellow moon in those black eyes, and for the first time, I considered that perhaps this was his storm.

“Clementine!” he bellowed. “You cannot win against me! Drop your book and join us, for we are legion! Dance with us, know our pleasures, and feast upon innocent flesh!”

“I will not join your heathen coven!” I yelled back. “I fight for God and I will destroy you and all your worshipers! Fear me!” At this, I lunged with my knife and began singing “Victory in Jesus” as I circled and slashed at Satan.

“I heard an old, old story how a Savior came from glory,

how he gave His life on Calvary to save a wretch like me...”

__________________________________

Office of Sheriff Gus Feller

Black Hollow, Kentucky

Date: October 30, 1948

INCIDENT REPORT- B-453 To Be Attached to Confession of Clementine Ballard

TO: Kentucky State Police, Lexington

My statement regarding the arrest of Clementine Ballard:

On the morning of the 30^th, I deputized citizen Ronald Merriman. For the record, he is my first cousin. We followed Ballard into the northeast woods of Black Hollow, locally called “The Witch Woods”. We hid in the trees, observing as Clementine Ballard trespassed round the perimeter of the Merriman home, looking in windows. She left the home and re-entered the woods, still part of Merriman’s property. There, Ballard slashed a knife around in a clearing, screamed, sang a church hymn, generally appeared to have a mental breakdown.

I had been looking for her for hours since Brother Cyrus Aames had called and told me about Ballard’s visit to the church. The conversation Aames relayed alarmed me and I knew without a doubt that Ballard had been the one who dug up the Merriman baby’s coffin from their private graveyard. Miss Ballard’s behavior has been odd for many years, but the severity of her zealousness had recently increased and had been the subject of village concern.

Around 4pm, just at dusk, I’d taken my service revolver and gone over to the Ballard place on the edge of Black Hollow. It might even be a few feet past the village limit, but this was still my jurisdiction. I’d hoped Gerald Ballard was well enough to help me talk some sense into Clementine. I needed her to tell me where the baby was. I brought my revolver because of Miss Ballard’s erratic character.

My knocks at the Ballard home went unanswered, so I pushed the wooden door open. A cloud of blowflies hit me in the face, along with the smell of death that had me leaning over the porch to gag. I covered my nose and mouth with a handkerchief and went in. Gerald Ballard was there in the back room. I would describe his appearance as both liquefying and skeletal. The sight and smell was unbearable. I am responsible for the window left open.

I had a quick look around the house just to see if the little coffin was in sight, but didn’t see it in among all the piles of junk. I left the home and went to find Clementine Ballard.

For the record, the Merrimans cremated their stillborn child on their property. It is not unusual in this area and was done legally. I cremated my own infant daughter five years ago in this same manner. Also, there was no “feasting”. I was offered a glass of Kentucky mule.

Office of Sheriff Gus Feller

Black Hollow, Kentucky

Date: October 31, 1948

INCIDENT REPORT- N/A

File: Confidential Records to Remain in Black Hollow Sheriff’s Office

Clementine Ballard, 46, spinster and citizen of Black Hollow, was placed under arrest by me at approximately 2:43 am the morning of October 31, 1948. For the record, Ballard is my second cousin. She was arrested for:

1. Murder by neglect of Gerald Ballard

2. Vandalism

3. Theft of human remains

4. Trespassing- multiple counts

The facts surrounding these crimes are found in my report to State Police (B-453) dated October 30, 1948. Besides myself, the second witness to Count 4 is property owner Ronald Merriman.

I was notified by Brother Cyrus Aames on the afternoon of the 30th of Miss Ballard’s intention to take immediate action against the citizens of Black Hollow. Aames, is employed at the village “church”. He informed me that Miss Ballard had determined to cause Our Lord some offense. I began my search for her then.

The remains of the suspect’s father, Gerald Ballard, 74, are currently located at Townley’s Funeral Home at 6 English Street, Black Hollow. State authorities have taken my advice and declined an autopsy.

In a statement to this officer, Clementine Ballard admitted to withholding food and basic care to her father, an invalid, because he asked for these things. The accused believes that demanding food is the sin of gluttony and that requesting to be cleaned is the sin of pride.

The remains of Honeycutt Merriman, infant son of Ronald and Salome Merriman, are still unknown. We continue to search as the remains are needed by the family.

I would add that the sacrifice the Merrimans were offering Satan is common practice in these parts. I have done so myself and to great success. Though born in Black Hollow, Miss Ballard is one of the few non-believers and her resistance is offensive to many here.

Clementine Ballard has been transported to the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, Louisville, to await trial. I expect her crimes to have her confined there permanently. She would be a danger to Black Hollow if allowed to return.

Next week is for The Creep Club: Oooh, the broken down old ALH mansion is filling up with ghostly fun! We’ll discuss an infamous haunted house “documentary”, and dive into a who’s who of The Haunted Mansion.

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