{"sf1_id":1152023,"sf2_id":null,"title":"To Your Grave","author":"Aux Chiens","words":3937,"posted_at":"2017-03-01T03:51:00.000Z","tags":["Appalachia","Curse","Goat","Horns","Male","North Carolina","Satyr","Transformation","Witchcraft","creepy","weird"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1152023-to-your-grave","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/1152023","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=1152023\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"","content":"No doubt\nyou have read of the Witches' Sabbath, and have laughed at the tales which\nterrified our ancestors; the black cats, and the broomsticks, and dooms\npronounced against some old woman's cow. Since I have known the truth I have\noften reflected that it is on the whole a happy thing that such burlesque as\nthis is believed, for it serves to conceal much that it is better should not be\nknown generally. \n_________ \nArthur Machen, \"The Novel of the\nWhite Powder\" \n            Jim McCall was Jimmy McCall, just a small\nboy in the dire years of the Depression, when he heard a story from an old, old\nman named Eph, short for Ephraim Chandler, who had lived in a place called\nBlowing Rock near to all his life. \n            Ever after, when whenever Eph\ncame up in conversation - little by little less and less each year, as more and\nmore oldtimers passed on and forgot - Jim McCall would tell anyone in earshot\nthat the man was burning in Hell, deserving every touch of the Devil's\npitchfork.            When he was a boy he had not minded his folks who had told\nhim to stay away from Eph, but Jimmy was of a family that always did things\ntheir own way, and at even at seven years old Jimmy was his family's child and\nacted out his restless, rebellious spirit - his older brother, many years his\nsenior, would do the same, and shoot a man in Boone over money owed him, and\nbreathed his last screaming in hellfire in the electric chair at Central\nPrison.            Eph sold decent shine made from corn and cane, just enough\nto get by, and had one or two goats on his property that, like him, seemed to\nbe ridiculously ancient. He was probably the oldest man in Watauga County, certainly\nthe oldest person anyone in Boone knew of: he told people stories about how he\nmet Jeff Davis - beg pardon, President\nJeff Davis - and offered him a place to stay when he was on the run from the\nYankees all those years ago. This was just one of many tall tales the man would\nspout to anyone he thought was listening - but then again, that story alone\nwould put him at nearly a hundred years old, well far enough advanced in age to\nbe certifiably crazy.             He had a wizened face that may have been handsome in the\ntime that he once had claimed to live, and an uncombed scraggly white beard\ncoming down his chin. He walked with a strange gait and wore shoes entirely too\nlarge for his feet - a mark of eccentricity and senility, no doubt, like the\nfunny wideawake hat he never took off.            But however offputting, however much of a liar everyone\nelse thought he was, Jimmy McCall believed every word. He didn't used to - a\njaded skeptic even at so green an age - but one night, the last night he ever\ndared venture to Eph's place, he believed\nevery word.            After the Japs bombed Pearl Harbor, Jimmy was by that time\nJim, and he did his duty and signed up - he was shipped off to the\nMediterranean and defended freedom in Sicily. While he was stationed in\nPalermo, he got a letter from his Ma telling him, in part, that some folk in\nBoone had it on good authority Eph finally passed, his cabin up in the woods\nburnt down one Summer's night.            It was right after that, when anyone back home ever\nmentioned Eph, he would nod, solemnly as though he were taking an oath, and\nsaid \"That man's a-burnin in Hell, sure as certain - that fire weren't no\naccident, just his master a-callin em home.\"            And then somebody, inevitably, would scold him for\nspeaking ill of the dead, but Jim would be shake his head slowly and repeat\nwhat he said before.            A few remembered him in the days of his boyhood hanging\nround Eph's place, doing chores for him and listening to his crazy stories.\nWhat in goodness had happened to make him think such a thing, after all?            And as it happened, Jim McCall rarely told a soul - master\nstoryteller though he was, delighting in the perverse and the macabre, he would\nclam up as soon as anyone mentioned it. He'd change the subject or he'd offer\nsomeone a drink or some pie, and that was that.\n            Usually.            But if you were lucky enough to hear why Jim McCall knew, sure as certain, that Eph was burning in\nHell, well - you'd never have trouble remembering it, because it's the kind of\nthing one doesn't readily forget.            The story went like this:\n            Eph\nwas widely known as a man to avoid - the years had clearly done something to\nhis head that made it sicken and grow strange, until now he just lived up there\nall alone in the woods, sometimes with his goats. He was a looney, maybe even\ndangerous - and like every other boy in Watauga County, probably, Jimmy McCall\nhad been expressly warned to stay away from him. But, again, being who he was -\nthe restlessness that ran unaccountably through his veins - he disobeyed, and\none Summer during the Depression, when the mountains were vibrantly green and\nthe woods thick with buzzing birds and the cheater-cheater-cheater!\ncall of the Carolina Wren, he went to go pay this mysterious Eph a visit. \n            Jimmy was a strong, handsome\nboy, with hair the color of chocolate and big brown eyes to match, but always\nhad a serene expression of being calm and contented wherever he went. He acted\nthe part, as well, even as young as he was. So it didn't surprise Jimmy - it\nvery well should have, but Jimmy was\na fearless and headstrong child - when, after he knocked on the cabin door,\nthere appeared in the doorway the tall man with the queer white scraggly beard.\n\n            \"I'm Jimmy McCall, sir. I come ta see if ya need\nany work doin.\"\n            \"Why yer Jesse McCall's\ngrandboy! I knew him since he was knee-high to a grasshopper!\"\n            From that boisterous bit of\nintroduction, Jimmy and Eph became fast friends.\n            At first, Jimmy found that the\nway his folks talked about this mountaineering codger was totally unfounded: it\nwas true he had weird white hair on his chin and on his arms, and it was true\nhe never ate meat but always had fresh greens in a kind of salad, and as old as\nhe was he still had all his teeth - but that was no reason not to be nice to\nthe man! \n            He spoke kindly and let Jimmy\npet and handfeed his nanny-goats, soften and wheaten and sweet-natured with\ntheir strange eyes and lilting bleat - Jimmy may have been mature for his age\nbut he was still a boy, and simple things such as this appealed to him enough\nto flat-out tell his parents (and get spanked for the trouble, the first time)\nthat they were wrong but Eph and who he was.\n            After several days of this, his\nparents relented and let Jimmy go down to Eph's to do chores for the man -\nJimmy's pa ran a general store that attracted only a few customers a day, it\nwas a dull place for a boy of boundless energy like Jimmy himself.\n            Jimmy soon learned a great\ndeal about his new, elderly friend. It seems Eph had lived the way he had, up\nthat way with the occasional goat, selling shine for a little bit of coin, for\nas long as anyone could remember, because just\nas long as anyone could remember, Eph had been up there, in his cabin,\ncrazier than owl shit, as the folk say. But he was always kind to Jimmy,\nrewarding him for tending to his still way, way up in the woods, and feeding\nhis goats and stacking his firewood with choice herbs and delicious fresh goat's\nmilk that Jimmy's pa sold for a profit down at his store.\n            When it grew dark and it was\nnear time for Jimmy to run on home, Eph would tell stories. \"Lemme tell ya a story, child!\" \n            Jimmy would sit on the planks\nof the cabin floor, a fire in the woodstove, herbs and mushrooms hung to dry,\nthe nanny-goats in the lean-to he had built, attached long ago, to the cabin\nproper, the sounds of crickets and katydids and cicadas accompanying whatever\ntale Eph would spin, that odd little white beard wagging away with every word.\n            In his baggy clothes and\nill-footing shoes and big wideawake hat that Jimmy never saw him without, Eph\nwould sit back in his rocking chair, back and forth, and recount the impossibly\nfar-off days of his half-remembered youth: how he marched with General Lee but\nturned back after Petersburg, that one story about how he offered President\nDavis shelter at his cabin, how he shot a turkey with two heads that warbled\nsomething that sounded like a person talking.\n            At first, this was an\nexcellent arrangement for all involved, and Jimmy's dad seemed sorry for\nspanking his boy for disobeying when he had fresh goat's milk to sell and herbs\nfor his cooking.\n            Then, as the weeks went on, Eph's\nbehavior became disquieting, and he seemed to linger in his touches on Jimmy's\nshoulder, and some of the off-handed things he'd say seemed like they had more\nthan one meaning. Jimmy still being seven - precocious or not - he was never\nsure, but he was smart enough to trust his instinct.\n            He knew, for one, that Eph's stories\nwere getting progressively stranger and more morbid. There was the time he was\nhunting west of here and saw a whole tribe of people who weren't quite elk,\nweren't quite human cavorting around a weird fire. There was the time he swore\nhe saw an elderly woman who looked like an old nanny-goat cooking something\nhorrid-smelling in a big cauldron. And he would - imply things, things not\nmeant to be repeated to children, about these strange things he saw in the\nmountains, and chuckle to himself the way he always did, leaving Jimmy feeling\ndirty, for whatever reason, and deeply uncomfortable.\n            But the worst was yet to come.\n            One evening when the Sun was\npeeling away its golden beams over the crests of the High Country, and Eph had\nJimmy start a fire for him in the woodstove, he rested his old bones in the\nrocking chair, like he always did - but lifted his head, suddenly, as though\nremembering something important.\n            \"Say - say boy--\"\n            \"Yessir?\"\n            \"I ever tell you about\nMr. Ferro?\"\n            \"No sir,\" answered\nJimmy, dusting his hands off on his britches. \"Who's Mr. Ferr--\"\n            Eph cut him off with a sharp,\nbitter laugh.\n            \"I reckon I better tell\nya then! Ah, boy - he's the Witchin Man!\"\n            \"A Witchin Man?\"\n            \"Not a Witchin Man, child - the Witchin\nMan.\" Eph's eyes grew distant, seeing past Jimmy , his cabin door, into\nthe yawning starlit North Carolina darkness. \"Yes - oh yes, boy...\" Now\nhis eyes flicked back to Jimmy , seeming furtive, excitable. \"Y'ain't\nnever heard of em?\"\n            \"No sir.\"\n            \"Folks never said nuthin?\"\n            \"No sir,\" Jimmy repeated.\n\"I heard o'sum witches, but no Witchin Men\n- err, Man. I heard o'the Devil,\ntoo, but he's in the Bible.\"\n            \"Devil jest as real as\nyew or I, boy - any good preacher'll tell ya that.\" Back Eph came in his\nrocking chair again, that surreptitious look curling his mouth with a queer\nkind of smile. \"Ain't surprised - long time gone, Mr. Ferro ain't come\nround here no more.\"\n            \"Well why ain't he come\nround, then?\"            Eph stopped the comfortable rhythm\nof his rocking chair to tilt his head, as though thinking, the firelight\ncasting distorted shadows that, as Jimmy watched, he thought he could see move\non their own...            \"S'pose eh got what he\nwanted,\" he said, a little too cryptically for Jimmy's comfort. \"Ya\nsee, child, long, long time gone,\nwhen Boone, up yonder, weren't nuthin t'all, Ferro come up here lookin fer\nsumthin - least that's what he said...wantin ta give somebody sumthin, a\nli'l  bizness no barter, ya see.\" He\npaused, his face still pensive with the memories of countless decades gone by.\n\"Folk know - folk knew not ta do no barter with Farro, though, child -\nhe'd cheat ya, no matter what it was for he'd cheat ya outta anythin.\"\n            \"Why'd he cheat?\"\nasked Jimmy, sitting up suddenly, feeling a chill, eerie feeling come upon him.\n            \"That's jest what Ferro\nlike ta do, child...\" Eph flashed a smile at Jimmy like it was meant to be a\njoke. \"Why - the greatest thing he ever done was cheat a young fella, promised\nhim a whole mess of stuff, but only gave em a lifetime of bein ugly.\"\n            \"Oh\nmy goodness...\" Jimmy whispered, eyes wide, withdrawing into a quivering\npile. \"He made em ugly?\"\n            Eph\nnodded, a brief twinkle coming to his eyes. \"Yes indeed. Ugly - as sin.\"\n            \"H-how--?\"\nJimmy found his throat had gone dry in fear.\n            \"Well,\nnow, this boy - he was a curious one, but also didn't care none for no\nScripture, he blasphemed and cursed and spat and all this, he wudn't raised no\ngood.\" Eph leaned back in his rocking chair and Jimmy fidgeted where he\nwas, wondering if this boy was actually him,\nand this would turn into some sort of advice. \"So he wudn't scared none\nwhen Mr. Ferro come up here.\"\n            Jimmy\ncould only nod, waiting for Eph to finish.\n\"Mr. Ferro was old, older than Methuselah, but he look so young and spry\nso ye'd cudn't believe how many years he really had on em. Long, dark hair,\ncame past his shoulders - big dark eyes - stovepipe hat, cape.\" Eph chuckled. \"Quite a sight for that boy, that\nlittle town that weren't nuthin yet.\" He raised an eyebrow. \"That\nought've been enough for that boy, there, ta mind his folks and not have nuthin\nto do with the man...\" The eyebrow came down. \"But he went up and\ntalked t'em anyhow.\"\n            As\nEph went on, he described the scenes sparsely enough, but it filled Jimmy's\nlittle head with the awfulest visions. Eph was masterful at the raconteur's art\n- pausing for effect, rise and fall, boom and whisper, to capture his audience,\nhis very voice the greatest actor of the drama.\n            It\nseems the boy - who was never given a name - was enthralled by how charming and\nhow rich Ferro seemed to be. Ferro said he was a chemist, of sorts, offering\nall kinds of remedies for all manner of maladies...including, he said, old age.\n            At\nthis, the boy perked up. What did Ferro mean by this?\n            Why\n- said Ferro with a clever smile, showing off his teeth, white like snow,\nstraight as ice - a way to live with years uncounted, in a form you will no doubt enjoy.\n            Now,\nany fella with any sense could have seen that this was a bad idea and a worse\noffer - but the boy, nearly a teen, was deeply thrilled with the prospect, naïve,\nmaybe a little stupid, like he was.\n            What\nwould he have to do?\n            Two\nthings, Ferro explained - the first is to drink an elixir, which he procured,\nJohnny-on-the-spot, from the cloak he wore.   The\nsecond was to go up on a bald, where Ferro liked to conduct business - his phrase\n- to complete the process.\n            The boy didn't think this was\ntoo outrageous, but when he asked how much this would cost him, Ferro just\nlaughed, and changed the subject.\n            In order for the elixir to\nwork, Ferro explained, he had to drink in four parts, and offer himself to the Devil\nin Hell, just like the witches would.\n            At this, for the first time,\nthe boy hesitated. He was no firm believer but he thought that doing anything\ndevilish was right unwise.\n            But Ferro waved his hand - why\nthink of the fires of Hell when one could live so long?\n            Poor reasoning - but the boy\nwas too curious, too prideful of his own looks to wonder what would happen\nshould they ever fade away, to refuse.\n            He handed the elixir to the\nboy, popped off the top, and made him say this chant, one for every time he\ndrank the strange liquid - greenish-white, it tasted like grass, but more\nbitter.\n            Devil take me - Devil take the ring - Devil take me - And everything.            The boy took deep breaths,\nnow, feeling a little woozy after drinking the strange concoction from the\nstrange alchemist he had been warned not to mess with.\n            He saw Ferro smile, again\nseeing those enormous teeth, oddly, brilliantly white as they were.            Excellent, was how Ferro\npraised the boy. Now, they had to finish the rest.            Up\nthey want to the bald at the top of that mountain -    Ferro sprinkled an amount of ground-up mushroom that glowed in the\ndark, foxfire he called it, to make a\nring.\n            Step into this ring, he\ninstructed the boy, and then it would be it for him to say the words, just as\nhe did when drink the elixir earlier.\n            The\nboy did as he was told - but almost immediately, he felt unwell, like something\nwasn't quite right. But at the same time did his heart race with that lethal\nswirl of excitement, and fear - was it really possible that he, humble he,\ncould live in years uncounted, longer than anyone he knew?\n            Ferro's\nvoice seemed to take an - otherworldly tone. \n            Heat\nlightning appeared, distant, dancing on the mountains. A cold wind picked up\nfrom nowhere.\n            But\nwhat had Ferro said about - in a form you\nwill no doubt enjoy - that was being forever youthful, was it not?\nYet he had very little time to think - for now the the boy heard Ferro recite\nhis blasphemous prayer:\n            Devil take me--            The boy sputtered in shock - he felt the wooly fur\nsprouting on his legs, his arms, he felt the itch on his chin where a caprine\ngrowth of beard was starting, his whole body exploding in a sickened, cold\nsweat.            Devil take the ring--            Now his feet burned hot with sudden agony, swelling and\nmoving about in his boots, so that he was thrown to the ground in utter\nexcruciation - the very bones of his toes seemed to bloat, at first, and grow\nbigger, breaking the skin, but then worst of all they started to fuse together, and get larger still, so that\nhe felt the leather of his boots heave and then tear, bursting through the\nfabric...his new hooves, gnarled and\ngoatish.             Devil take me--\n            The\nboy realized in the moment that, were he to stay in the magic circle, he would\ncontinue to change in these eldritch ways. He tried to run, but he stumbled,\nand stumbled hard, his new hooves too unsteady to maneuver - he went down\nheadfirst, only for a pain to grip his entire skull, a migraine that caused the\nblackness behind his tightly shut eyes to flash with starbursts of fresh pain...mere\nseconds passed before he reached up to his head to feel something growing on it, out of it, ripping open\nplaces through his flesh to emerge, hard and yellowing like aged ivory, goaty horns, oh how he screamed, alone,\naloud, in dire panic, clawing his way blindly through the grass, barely making\nit out of that accursed glowing circle.\n            And - everything...\n            The\nritual was done - and the boy had only just managed to save himself. He looked\nback at Farro, those dark eyes lit up by the moonlight, laughing at him, that\nechoing, mocking, jeering laugh of knowing he had fooled that boy into doing\nsomething so utterly foolish that could never, ever be reversed.\n            He\nlet the boy go - telling him never to come up on the bald he'd taken to, and\nnever tell a soul what had happened - but not before laughing, one more time,\nto enjoy all the long life he had earned.\n            Eph\nstopped - his tale ended.\n            His\ntoothy smile was from ear to ear, seemingly pleased that he held his young\naudience so tautly spellbound.            Now Jimmy was just about as horrified as he had ever been\nin his own short life - he was shaking something fierce, the flames in the\nfireplace providing him neither warmth nor comfort, but seemed to reflect,\nburning themselves, in Eph's eyes.            \"What...what happened ta the boy?\" Jimmy asked.\n\"In - in the story--\"            \"Ferro had his bargain and let him go,\" Eph said\nwith another one of his strange, discomforting smiles. \"But he left em all\nmessed up like he done. Teach em a lesson.\"            \"Jest left em like that?!\"            \"Oh yes, boy. All horned and goaty and ugly.\"            \"That's awful.\"            \"Aye, boy. And he was so ugly that way - jest so\ndamned ugly - only a goat would wanna lay with em.\" A twinkle appeared in\nhis eye that, even though Jimmy couldn't rightly understand it, made his bowels\nturn to ice. \"And so he did!\"            \"He - he did what\nnow...?\"            Eph chuckled. \"Never ya mind, boy. Trust me, ain't\nnuthin Ferro wudn't do, ta make somebody hurt.\"            Jimmy found he couldn't stop trembling, but he gathered up\nsome hidden reserve of courage to ask his last question - what had been bothering\nhim all this time Eph had been speaking:            \"H-how - how come yew know all this?\"            He wished he hadn't asked it - he'd wished he'd just been\nignorant the rest of his life, and never realize just what kind of awful world\nhe and everybody else was living in, that such things could exist, that\nsomething so damnably horrible could ever be true.            But he got his answer. And when he got it, he tore off\na-hollerin from that accursed cabin, running so hard his legs felt like they\nwould fall off and his lungs would swell up and burst in his chest.            Years and years went by and he never told a single person\nwhat he seen that night. Sometimes when he was too drunk or too tired as he\ngrew older the truth would come out, but never before. \n            He\nhad seen nightmarish things in Sicily, he would see still more as his battalion\nmoved up into Italy, but only one thing Jim McCall ever saw made him scream\nawake in the middle of the night then what he saw that night as a seven-year\nold boy.            \"How do I know?\" Eph had repeated back to him\nwith a cold laugh.            The firelight had took to that hideous twinkle in his\neyes, and Eph smiled a terrible smile - he took off his big hat.            There, underneath the fabric, hidden in a tussle of white,\nwoolen hair, was a pair of enormous, curved goat\nhorns.\n            \"Cuz\nthat boy - was me!\""}