At seven in the morning, it didn't matter that my Chevy no longer had air. With the window down, the cool November breeze made the drive from Jacksonville to Florida State Prison in Starke refreshing. As I drove, I daydreamed about the murder and how getting this crime story would be a piece of cake.

I'd be at the prison about eight, do the interview, cruise down to Keystone Heights and make a copy of the case file. From there it would be a short trip up Hwy 21 to the crime scene where, if Johnny Trimble comes clean and tells me where he hid Todd Hall's body, I'd do a little snooping. Maybe with some luck I'd capture a once in a lifetime photo. Oh yes, I thought, this could be just the story that'll get me journalistic recognition.

And why wouldn't Johnny come clean? It had been fifteen years. He'd eaten up all his appeals; tomorrow they'd be throwing the switch on him. No pardon, no reprieve. He would finally get what he had coming. Besides, this interview, at his request, meant he had something to say and I had the exclusive.

I had no trouble finding Florida State Prison. Starke is a small rural town. Aside from Camp Blanding Military Reservation, the prison is about the only thing notable for miles around.

Arrangements for the interview had been made in advance. Once checked in, a guard immediately escorted me to a small room and told to me to wait. Johnny Trimble would be along shortly.

There I sat; four gray walls, two wooden chairs, a table, a steel door and dead silence; looked and felt a lot like prison.

Five minutes later Johnny Tremble, cold-blooded murderer, sat across the table from me. Safe enough, I guessed.

Recorder running, Johnny wasted no time. "I got somethin to say, man. Tomorrow they goin ta kill me and I got ta get dis story out. Somebody's got ta believe me. I ain't crazy and I ain't lyin. Peoples got ta know da truth, even if dey don't believe it. I didn't kill Todd Hall. Some thing out a hell done it!"

There goes my story, I thought. This guy's not going to give me ****. What the hell, I've come this far, might as well let him get it off his chest. I gestured to him, "OK Johnny, I've come this far and it's your nickel. The recorder is running. Spill your guts."

He began. "Me and Todd, best friends. Hung together lots. Sure, I was seventeen and he was only twelve but we was neighbors and nobody else lived any-whar near. Natural dat we hung out. Done a lot a huntin, fishin together. Dat, we did.

It was huntin got me in dis mess. Didn't live fur from Camp Blanding. Man, thar must be a zillion acres a dem woods and we'd tromp em all da time. One Friday night we was spottin rabbits. Workin the sides of Hwy 21 when we come across some ruts goin off into da woods. We figured it must ta been an old road. The woods was thick with trees and brush but this ole roadbed was thin nough so we took ta shinnin da edges of dat. Little way into da woods we heard dis dog barkin. Didn't pay him no mind. Then we seen his eyes in our spots. He came right up to us. It was a big ole Rottweiler. He jes wanted some pettin and den he led us off down a side trail a few yards or so. Suddenly, thar it was, dis ole shanty.

It was completely dark and da yard was littered with junk and such. It looked like it must ta been a hun-ert years ole. We kinda thought it must be abandoned or somethin. About den, I caught a red glow out da corner a my eye, out back a da shanty. I shined my light over thar and I seen it was comin from a privy. There was a cut out in da door shaped like a crescent moon and two dim glowin things was a visible back in thar, just like hot coals or some kind a eyes or somethin. Man, made my har stand straight up. I was scared and so was Todd. We thought maybe somebody was a livin thar after all and we was about to get our asses shot. But if dem was eyes dey couldn'a been no human. We could still see em in thar glowin even when our lights wasn't on em.

We ran. We jes turned our asses and ran. Didn't stop til we got all da way back to da highway. That was nough citement for one night so we jes took what rabbits we had and went on home.

Next day, we got ta thinkin da whole thing over and wez just knew we had ta be full a ****. I mean, ya know, thar had ta be some natural explanation for dem glowing things. I told my Pa. He just laughed. He knew all bout dat shack. Some old man lived thar for years and den one day he jes up and disappeared. People say he probably wandered off in ta da woods, had a heart attack and dropped dead. Animals probably scattered his bones. Nobody ever found em. Todd and I, we decided ta vestigate. We went back down thar rot den.

In da daylight we didn't have no trouble finding it. Sides, thar was dat damn dog again. We started down dat old trail and here he a come trottin right up ta us and den he led us right ta dat ole shanty. And out back, thar it was, plain as day, jes as you'd expect, an ole privy.

We investigated da shack fust. It was a pretty mess. Looked jes like some hermit had lived thar years ago. Da rats and da rot had taken thar toll. Wouldn't be long and it'd fall down in ta a pile of sticks and tin. But dat privy, it looked jes fine. Odd, it was in so much better shape dan dat ole shack. Thought maybe hunters were a looking after it.

About den weez wondered what happened to dat ole Rottweiler? It had went back in ta da woods I guess; cause we didn't see it no more.

Den I member dis strange perfume smell. Not like any blossom I ever smelt a fore. Da air was thick wit it, like we was in a orange grove during bloom time. But thar wasn't nothin round; nothin dat I could see cept blackjacks, oaks and palmetters.

Anyhow, we no sooner got near da shitter when both me and Todd got da urge. Must a been da power of suggestion I guess. And shore nough when we opened da door, it looked like da seat would still hold a feller jes fine. Lo and behold thar was even an ole phone book.

Suddenly, Todd jes stepped inside, dropped his britches and sat down. I protested cause I was needin ta go pretty bad but he jes pushed me out and closed da door.

Well now, dat was it. All hell broke loose. I heard him let out a blood curdling scream like nothing I ever hurt a fore in my life. I flung open dat door and thar he was a sittin on dat seat and deez black leathery arms were a comin up through da hole tween his legs and dey was a wrapped all around his waist, jes like a big snake. Dey was squeezin da hell out of em. And on da end of dem thangs thar was deez hand like claws and dey was a clawing and rippin away his flesh. He couldn't get up and he was a screamin and a flailin like hell. My god, I was in a panic. I grabbed a holt a his arm and I wretched him up off dat seat but as I did thar come a nudder of dem arm thangs up through da hole and it was a looking for somethin to get a holt of. I got clawed a couple times but I managed ta keep it from a gettin any holt on me. But den, I couldn't get no grip on Todd cause blood was a flyin every whar and he was a slippery as hell with it. I had to let him go cause more of dem tentacles was out of dat hole now and dey was jes no way I could fight em off. God damn! Dem arms was all over Todd, a squeezin and a rippin. His bones were a snapping like tree twiggs. Dey was literally a tearing his ass apart and a pullin him down dat hole. I couldn't do a damn thing cept stand thar and scream. Den I finally realized Todd wasn't a screamin no more. It dawned on me I ought ta run and dat's what I done, all da way home.

Course, I was covered with blood and cut up pretty good. My Pa had ta slap me around a bit ta get me calmed down nough to tell em what happened. Den we raced back in his pickup and run through da woods only ta find da thing was gone and Todd gone with it. But thar sure was blood every-whar. No doubt Todd had met a violent end in dat privy.

Nobody believed my story. They arrested me, put me in handcuffs and interrogated me til da wee hours of da next morning. But I stuck ta my story. Dey said I butchered Todd and hid his body in da woods. But I swear I didn't do no such thing. The sheriff took a backhoe out thar. They knocked da privy down and dug all through dat slime but dey never found nuttin. Not a damn thing. Even hound dogs didn't do em no good. Where da hell did Todd go? What was dat thing from hell dat got em? I swear to god, I don't know. I jes know what I jes tole ya. That's all I know and I'm a goin ta go ta my death tomorrow knowin da same."

Exhausted, I took off my glasses, set them on the table in front of me and then wiped my face with open hands. Johnny rose from the chair and walked to the door. "Guard," he called out, "I'm done here." I heard the keys in the lock and then the door swinging open. A guard escorted Johnny out. Another asked, "You coming?" He waited as I packed up my recorder.

What a total waste of time, I thought. I couldn't print this story. It might make a good horror movie but a story for a crime magazine? They'd laugh me out of town.

I thought about going home and forgetting the whole thing but curiosity got the best of me. Keystone Heights would only take me out of the way a few miles.

In Keystone Heights, a very hospitable sheriff remembered the case. In fact, he planned to serve as witness to Johnny's execution the next day.

The case file had to be hunted down. It  was packed away in a storeroom years ago. To my surprise, the sheriff didn't mind the inconvenience of digging through several boxes. In a few minutes, I had copies of everything, including photos. One photo showed the mess inside the privy.

Just as Johnny had described, blood covered everything. The photos of the backhoe and the excavations didn't show much, except in the background you could see the privy knocked down and crushed, apparently by the backhoe.

From the sheriff's directions and the crime scene report, I got a pretty good idea how to find the old shack. The old roadbed could be found right where Hwy 21 curves to head due north. I parked on the side of the road and started looking for the ruts. Sure enough, they were still there and I began to follow them into the woods.

A dog barked in the distance; kind of startled me when a black Rottweiler stepped out of the woods a few minutes later with tail wagging, eager to join me. Hmmm, I thought; isn't that a strange coincidence?

After petting the dog briefly, I continued. The dog seemed to know I where I wanted to go and led the way. Abruptly turning onto a side trail I wondered if the dog might lead me to the shack? I followed. Sure enough, a hundred yards or so off the old road we came upon an old shack or I should say the remnants of one. Things looked just as Johnny had described them.

Of course, I didn't expect to find a privy. Well, yes, maybe I expected to find the remnants of a flattened one. But, as I came around back of the shack, to my surprise, I did, indeed, find an old privy. Sure wasn't the privy I expected to find though, lying on the ground, crushed and broken. Rather, this privy stood just as upright as could be and did not look at all in disrepair. Hmmm, how queer?

My thoughts were just then interrupted by a sweet odor, something overwhelming, like perfume.

Now what could that be? There were no blooms in these woods in November. I didn't know of any flower that smelled like that anyway.

Looking around, I noticed the dog had disappeared. I remembered Johnny's story. The creepy similarities made me nervous.

Somehow, I gathered the courage to approach the privy and ease the door open. The inside looked fine. An old phone book lay on the floor.

Phone book? I recoiled in horror remembering Johnny's tale; too many coincidences to suit me.

Turning to leave, I felt my bowels churn. Oh ****! As if the other coincidences were not enough, now I had the urge too. My anxiety gave way to outright terror.

Just then, I heard the leaves behind me crackle; a cold breeze licked the back of my neck. My hair stood up, my scalp started crawling and I started running.

I ran as hard and as fast as I could all the way back to my car; jumped in, started the engine and was screaming south in seconds; south to Keystone Heights. I got into a Burger King restroom just in the nick of time. Well... almost.

Now folks, I can't prove there's anything to Johnny's story. But... should some occasion require you to make use of an unfamiliar privy out in the boondocks of Florida... I recommend you look around inside that hole very carefully before you sit down.

Keyword: horror evil mystery florida murder privy prison electrocution

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Comments (3)

Posted by D.A. Ross 2008-06-19 19:34:03 .... Liked the story, but i felt i read somewhere before or seen a movie based on the idea. Good writing, very easy to follow. The ending however, i feel is not as strong as the rest of the writing. Thank you for your submission. + Report this comment
Posted by brandon_scott 2008-06-19 20:12:45 .... I thought that this was a well written horror story, especially the dialogue. Keep up the good work! + Report this comment
Posted by chaabuk 2008-08-12 20:56:27 .... You have built up the story well. The horror was just waiting to happen. At times it was chilling. I am not a horror afficianado but I must say, you have treated it well. + Report this comment

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