Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   standard categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


An Encounter With Evil (standard:horror, 1785 words)
Author: pjlawtonAdded: Feb 06 2004Views/Reads: 3273/2162Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A young man in seacrch of the bizarre gets a little more than he bargained for.
 



An Encounter with Evil 

By P.J. Lawton 

It was deathly quiet on the gently sloping hillside. In the deepening
silence I recalled the last words spoken by the tired old man. With a 
trembling voice he had called to me as I walked away. “Be careful for 
what you are searching, for you may just find it.” 

Unexpectedly the hair on the back of my neck tingled as a cold wind blew
across the clearing. Where only moments before there had been bright 
sunlight now dark misty fog covered the landscape. I felt something 
eerie, a strange nearby presence. A hurried glance up the hill to the 
edge of the tree line found a standing figure completely encased in a 
dark cloak. With the stillness of a statue it stood staring toward the 
shrine.  The cloak hood was pulled up obscuring the head and face so 
that nothing was revealed of the person inside.  I cold shiver arched 
down my spine. 

Some unknown force compelled me to look back to the shrine.  I had been
to many so-called supernatural happenings before but they usually 
turned out to be nothing more than the figment of someone's overworked 
imagination. Somehow this one seemed different, more real, for I was 
unexpectedly overwhelmed with strange sensations. In an instant I 
recognized the feelings. I was in the presence of evil, pure, pure 
evil.  I couldn't breathe. I had to force the air into my lungs. What 
on Earth had made me come here today? Oh yes, my stupid morbid 
curiosity. 

*** 

I had always been curious about the strange or bizarre, the
supernatural, the occult, and other mysterious happenings. It had 
become more than just curiosity; it was now my main hobby. I wasn't 
overzealous about it but simply liked to stand at the scene of the 
sighting to see if I could feel vibrations or other sensations.  I 
would take notes in the journal I carried everywhere. Someday I planned 
to write a book about my experiences of the unexplained. 

I was on vacation in southern Germany when I learned about the sightings
of someone or something mysteriously wandering the hills of the 
beautiful Obersalzberg. Was it really him? Some surely believed it was. 
I was a little skeptical as usual but figured why not check it out. The 
village of Berchtesgaden wasn't all that far by train after all. 

Berchtesgaden is a small quiet beautiful village that had become
nefarious during the Second World War.  Nazi party bigwigs had 
appropriated the Obersalzberg, the mountain overlooking the village, 
and other areas near Berchtesgaden and converted them to a Nazi 
headquarters and stronghold.  The Hotel Platterhof, the people's hotel, 
and a model farm were built on the mountain as well as homes for many 
of the party leaders.  The area was heavily bunkered and fortified. 
After the war, those properties in the area appropriated by the Nazis 
were taken over by the U.S. Army. The Hotel Platterhof was rebuilt and 
renamed the General Walker Hotel and opened for guests in 1953.  The 
region that had been infamous for its connection to the Nazis was now 
to become famous for the warm hospitality extended to the American and 
other Allied forces. That is, until 1995 when the hotel closed. It was 
then that the reported sightings started! 

*** 

Since my interests also included military history I had stopped by the
small village cemetery to view the headstones of the local soldiers 
killed in the war. There seemed to be a lot for such a small village. 
The cemetery was beautifully kept up, the graves maintained with 
meticulous care. An old man that I took to be the caretaker approached 
and struck up a conversation in heavily accented English. We spoke for 
some time.  After a few minutes I asked the questions that had brought 
me here. 

“So, all of it was just a lie?” I quietly spoke to the frail old man in
the worn WWII style German Army greatcoat. “He didn't die in the bunker 
in Berlin?” 



Click here to read the rest of this story (122 more lines)



Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
pjlawton has 21 active stories on this site.
Profile for pjlawton, incl. all stories
Email: pjlawton1@yahoo.com

stories in "horror"   |   all stories by "pjlawton"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy