Episode 21 - The Hunger in the Rocks
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The narrative unfolds within the context of a newly married couple, Sarah and Tom Bennett, whose adventurous spirit leads them into the treacherous embrace of the Superstition Mountains. As they embark on what is ostensibly a simple hiking expedition, they become increasingly ensnared by the ominous legends and dark folklore that pervade the region. The episode encapsulates their harrowing descent into a world where the boundaries of reality and the supernatural become perilously blurred. With each step they take, the couple confronts mounting dread and the palpable malevolence lurking within the wilderness. Ultimately, the tale culminates in a chilling confrontation that challenges the very essence of love and survival, leaving listeners to ponder the profound implications of their choices amidst the foreboding shadows of the mountains.
Transcript
Imagine a world teetering on the edge of the familiar, a place where the fabric of the everyday begins to unravel, revealing glimpses of the extraordinary lurking beneath.
Speaker A:You're about to embark on a journey into the enigmatic, where the peculiar and the perplexing intertwine, where every tale twists the mind and tugs at the spirit.
Speaker A:It's a descent into the strange, the mysterious, and the unexplained.
Speaker A:This is when reality frays.
Speaker A:New episodes are published every Monday and Thursday, and when Reality Phrase is available everywhere, find podcasts are found.
Speaker A:Before we move on, please hit that Follow or Subscribe button and turn on all reminders so you're alerted when new episodes are released.
Speaker A:Today's episode contains one story entitled the Hunger in the Rocks.
Speaker A:It's the tale of a newly married couple who ignore legend and folklore to their own peril.
Speaker A:Now let's get to the story.
Speaker A:The jagged peaks of the Superstition Mountains loomed over the Arizona desert like the fossilized spine of some ancient beasts.
Speaker A:For Sarah and Tom Bennett, newlyweds from Phoenix, this was no mere hike.
Speaker A:It was a covenant forged over late night planning sessions.
Speaker A:Their apartment looked more like a war room, the walls covered with topographic maps and every horizontal surface piled with guidebooks.
Speaker A:Tom, a former collegiate wrestler with a stubborn glint at his blue eyes, saw the track as a crucible, a test of their resilience.
Speaker A:As a couple, his broad shoulders carried the heavier pack, his steps sure on the rocky trail, as if he could will the wilderness into submission.
Speaker A:Sarah, quieter, craved the solitude of the mountains.
Speaker A:Both were aware of the stories of the Superstition's dark lore, tales of lost prospectors, cursed gold disappearances and shadows that hunted the unwary.
Speaker A:The Apache believed the area was a gateway to the underworld, and some claimed the mountains harbored supernatural entities or malevolent forces, a reputation amplified by reported sightings of shadowy figures and eerie sounds.
Speaker A:Tom had laughed off the stories in the glow of their city lives, but in the quiet of the mountains under the merciless Arizona sun, the superstitions felt alive.
Speaker A:Watchful, the silence heavy with intent, Sarah felt a stirring of unease in her chest but said nothing.
Speaker A:The first day's ascent up Weaver's Needle Trail was a grueling march through red dust and brittle scrub.
Speaker A:The air shimmered with heat.
Speaker A:Sarah's boots crunched on loose shale, her pack chafing her hips.
Speaker A:But it was the prickle on her neck that unsettled her most, a sensation of eyes boring into her from the cliffs above.
Speaker A:She glanced back, catching a Fleeting shape, a dark blur darting between boulders, gone before she could focus, her pulse quickened.
Speaker A:Tom, ahead, trudged on, oblivious, his focus locked on the trail's steep switchbacks.
Speaker A:She almost called out to share the weight of her unease, but his squared shoulders and steady pace seemed to dismiss her fear before she could voice it.
Speaker A:Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her pack and pressed forward, the mountain's silence pressing against her like a warning.
Speaker A:Dusk bathed the desert in shades of blue and purple.
Speaker A:They found a clearing hemmed by towering rock formations, their shapes twisted into grotesque silhouettes.
Speaker A:Tom built a fire, its crackling flames seemingly a frail defense against the encroaching darkness.
Speaker A:Sarah sat close, her knees drawn up, her eyes darting to the shadows beyond the firelight.
Speaker A:The wind howled through the canyons, its wail carrying an almost human cadence, a keening that seemed to whisper her name.
Speaker A:She tried to focus on Tom's presence, but the darkness pressed in, its edges alive with unseeing eyes.
Speaker A:Sleep eluded her, her body tense in the stifling tint.
Speaker A:Around midnight, a rustling snapped her upright, her heart hammering.
Speaker A:Soft, deliberate steps circled the camp, too heavy for a coyote, yet not heavy enough for a bear.
Speaker A:Tom slept on, his snores, a steady rhythm that remained undisturbed.
Speaker A:She unzipped the tent flap with trembling fingers, peering into the faint glow of dying embers.
Speaker A:Her backpack, left by the fire ring, was tipped over, its contents strewn across the dirt.
Speaker A:Protein bars were torn open, a water bottle punctured.
Speaker A:Her journal splayed in the dirt.
Speaker A:Claw like marks circled the tent, elongated and unnatural, neither human nor any animal she had heard of.
Speaker A:It was as if something had tested the boundaries of their camp.
Speaker A:Her stomach clenched, a cold sweat beating on her skin.
Speaker A:She shook Tom awake, her fingers digging into his arm.
Speaker A:But his groggy eyes and dismissive shrug, blaming a curious animal, deepened her isolation.
Speaker A:She zipped the flap shut, her hands shaking, and lay awake until dawn.
Speaker A:Morning revealed the full extent of the intrusion.
Speaker A:The strange tracks ringed their camp.
Speaker A:Some pressed deep into the earth, while others trailed into the rocks, almost like an invitation.
Speaker A:Sarah knelt over the claw marks, a chill sinking into her bones as she snapped several photos.
Speaker A:She wanted to flee, to abandon the dream that now felt like they were on the cusp of a nightmare.
Speaker A:But Tom's jaw was set and his eyes burned with determination.
Speaker A:He packed their gear, his movements signaling a refusal to turn back.
Speaker A:This was their dream, their test, and he would not yield to shadows or superstition.
Speaker A:Sarah's heart sank, torn between her love for him and a screaming Instinct to run, she relented, her silence a surrender to his will.
Speaker A:Though every step deeper into the mountains felt like a descent into danger, the second day was a gauntlet of mounting dread.
Speaker A:The trail narrowed into a canyon where the walls loomed high over their heads.
Speaker A:The surfaces were pocked with small caves that seemed to watch.
Speaker A:Tom, distracted by a crumpled map, nearly stepped on a rattlesnake coiled in the path.
Speaker A:Its warning sent him stumbling back, his face paling as the snake slithered into a crevice.
Speaker A:Sara's heart pounded, her earlier unease, now a roaring certainty that the mountains were alive with malice.
Speaker A:That evening, as they set up camp in a shallow basin ringed by jagged rocks, a scorpion scuttled across Sarah's sleeping bag.
Speaker A:She swatted at it, panic flaring, but its stinger sank into her hand.
Speaker A:Pain seared up her arm, a white hot needle that left her gasping.
Speaker A:By nightfall, fever gripped her, her vision swimming, her skin clammy with sweat.
Speaker A:She collapsed against her pack, her body trembling, her mind screaming to leave, to escape the mountain's grasp.
Speaker A:Exhausted, she drifted into a fevered sleep, her dreams haunted by clawed shadows with glowing eyes that peered into her soul.
Speaker A:While they slept, something invaded the camp.
Speaker A:It moved with predatory silence, tearing into their supplies with deliberate savagery.
Speaker A:By morning, their packs were gutted, their entire stockpile reduced to ruins.
Speaker A:The same unnatural tracks crisscrossed the camp, one set circling the tent.
Speaker A:Sarah, pale and shaking from the scorpion venom, clutched Tom's arm, her fevered gaze pleading for retreat.
Speaker A:The latest assault on her camp had shaken him, and he didn't argue.
Speaker A:They packed up and started for the trailhead, Sarah's sting slowing her to a painful shuffle.
Speaker A:Each step was a battle against nausea and dizziness.
Speaker A:The air grew heavier, charged with a presence that pressed against their backs, as if the mountains themselves were closing in.
Speaker A:They moved through a narrow canyon, its walls towering above.
Speaker A:A sudden roar shattered the silence, rocks tumbling from above in a landslide that missed them by inches.
Speaker A:Dust choked the air, stinging her eyes, and Sarah stumbled, her hands scraping the ground.
Speaker A:Her heart screamed that this was no accident, that something was hunting them, toying with them.
Speaker A:Tom's face was ashen, his earlier bravado muted.
Speaker A:He urged her forward, his hand gripping hers with desperate strength.
Speaker A:That night, they camped without food or fire.
Speaker A:Tom had lost their matches.
Speaker A:Whether dropped in panic or stolen by unseen hands, he couldn't say, and neither knew how to spark a flame in the biting cold.
Speaker A:The darkness was alive with sounds.
Speaker A:Low growls, skittering rocks, and a distorted wail that echoed for what felt forever.
Speaker A:Sarah, shivering and feverish, clung to Tom, her body wracked with pain.
Speaker A:The mountain peaks loomed over them, and she could feel a malice lurking in the darkness.
Speaker A:Tom held her tightly, his own fear now palpable.
Speaker A:The next morning, they were lost.
Speaker A:The trail markers had vanished and the landscape seemed to have shifted during the night.
Speaker A:Still, Tom pushed forward, despite his map now being useless.
Speaker A:His steps were driven by desperation rather than direction.
Speaker A:Sarah struggled to walk, her fever spiking.
Speaker A:She collapsed against a boulder, her breath ragged, her eyes glassy with pain.
Speaker A:Tom knelt beside her, his face torn between staying and moving on, his hands hovering uselessly above her.
Speaker A:But she needed rest, so he decided they'd stop for the night.
Speaker A:He set up the tent, but before she could crawl inside, another rock fall crashed down and destroyed the shelter.
Speaker A:Tent poles were crushed and the nylon shell torn to shreds.
Speaker A:They huddled together as the sun went down, their backs against the stone of a sheer cliff for protection.
Speaker A:By morning, Sarah was unconscious, her breathing shallow and her skin burning to the touch.
Speaker A:Tom's panic surged, a tidal wave that threatened to drown him.
Speaker A:He couldn't carry her, not for miles, but staying meant death for both.
Speaker A:Another rock fall crashed down, narrowly missing them.
Speaker A:Desperate, he used the tent's shredded remains to fashion a harness and strapped Sarah to his back.
Speaker A:Her weight dragged at him.
Speaker A:Her fevered breath was hot against his neck, a constant reminder of his failure to protect her.
Speaker A:He plodded forward, each step a battle against exhaustion and terror.
Speaker A:It was mid afternoon when Tom caught a glimpse of the stalker.
Speaker A:It was a hulking shape darting along the ridgelines above.
Speaker A:Sometimes it was a brief silhouette against the sky, sometimes a blur of motion, but it was always there, pacing them.
Speaker A:Hours later, they came across another hiker.
Speaker A:He was a grizzled man with wild eyes and a weathered pack.
Speaker A:He had been searching for clues to the location of the lost Dutchman mine, but had encountered something out of a nightmare.
Speaker A:His name was Elias, and he told Tom about a creature in the mountains that hid in the rocks and caves, emerging at night to feed on human flesh.
Speaker A:As he spoke, his face reflected the kind of fear that comes from seeing the impossible.
Speaker A:His words sank into Tom, who begged him to help them find the way out of the mountains so Sarah could receive medical care.
Speaker A:Elias agreed that was where he had been heading when they ran into each other.
Speaker A:He led them toward the trailhead, his eyes constantly scanning the cliffs.
Speaker A:But night fell before they reached it.
Speaker A:That night, he built a fire, its flames casting jagged shadows on the rock.
Speaker A:He cooked Meat from his pack, dark and sinewy, that made Tom's stomach twist.
Speaker A:But hunger overrode his doubt.
Speaker A:Sarah, drifting in and out of consciousness, managed a few bites, her face contorting with revulsion, but she was too weak to refuse.
Speaker A:The meat sat heavy in Tom's gut, its taste lingering like a secret he didn't want to know.
Speaker A:At dawn, Tom woke to find Elias gone.
Speaker A:No tracks and no trace.
Speaker A:Just vanished, as if he had leapt into the cliffs or dissolved into the desert air.
Speaker A:Sarah's fever spiked, her skin burning, her pulse a faint flutter.
Speaker A:The stalker grew bolder, triggering more rock falls that forced them to scramble for cover.
Speaker A:That night, howls and screams surrounded their camp, a cacophony of guttural cries, some almost human, others monstrous, weaving through the rocks like a net closing in.
Speaker A:Sarah's eyes, glassy with fever, stared into the darkness as if she saw something Tom couldn't.
Speaker A:He clutched her, his body trembling, his mind slowly fraying under the water weight of their unseen pursuers.
Speaker A:Exhaustion finally claimed him, his chin coming to a rest on his chest just before sunrise.
Speaker A:When he woke, Sarah was gone.
Speaker A:Her sleeping bag was empty, the ground around it scuffed with strange tracks, her boot and handprints as if she had crawled into the rocks like an animal.
Speaker A:Tom followed the tracks until they vanished into a crevice too narrow for him to enter.
Speaker A:A rock fall nearly crushed him, the impact deafening and guttural.
Speaker A:Cries echoed from multiple directions.
Speaker A:Above, behind, everywhere.
Speaker A:Terror seized him and he ran.
Speaker A:The stalkers pursued relentlessly.
Speaker A:Small rocks pelted him, stinging his skin, while larger ones crashed around him, shaking the earth.
Speaker A:He caught glimpses of them, hulking shapes, half human and half beast, their forms flickering in the heat haze of the day.
Speaker A:He ran for hours, delirious from dehydration and fear.
Speaker A:But he had to reach the trailhead and bring back help to find Sarah.
Speaker A:Then, as the sun began to set, a misstep.
Speaker A:His foot caught between two boulders, his ankles snapping with a sickening crunch.
Speaker A:Pain exploded up his leg, his cry of agony swallowed by the mountains.
Speaker A:The stalkers closed in, their fading shadows moving into rocks.
Speaker A:Something leapt from above, landing lightly a few feet from where Tom lay trapped.
Speaker A:It was Sara, but it wasn't the woman he'd married.
Speaker A:She snarled at him, a feral creature with Sarah's face.
Speaker A:Her eyes were wild, and her nails elongated into claws that gleamed in the dying light.
Speaker A:She lunged, tearing at his flesh, her teeth snapping at his throat with a hunger no longer human.
Speaker A:Tom fought back, shoving her with a desperate strength, his hands slick with his own blood.
Speaker A:She crouched, gathering for another leap, her mouth twisted into a snarling maw, her eyes empty of the woman he loved.
Speaker A:A gunshot shattered the air.
Speaker A:Sarah collapsed, blood pooling beneath her, her body still.
Speaker A:Tom stared at his wife's body, his mind no longer able to comprehend what he was witnessing.
Speaker A:A forest ranger leading a small search party emerged from from the trail.
Speaker A:The men's faces were grim and their movements swift and practiced.
Speaker A:More shots rang out, felling a monstrous form that might have once been human but now belonged in a nightmare.
Speaker A:The ranger worked quickly, barking orders to evacuate Tom.
Speaker A:The bodies were bagged and removed with efficiency.
Speaker A:A heavy silence descended, as if the mountains demanded secrecy, their shadows swallowing the truth.
Speaker A:Tom survived, airlifted to a hospital in Phoenix, his body broken and his mind shattered.
Speaker A:The official report cited animal attacks and dehydration, a lie that buried the horror under layers of government red tape.
Speaker A:He never spoke of it, not to the doctors, not to his friends.
Speaker A:At night, in the sterile quiet of his hospital room, he saw Sarah's feral eyes, heard the howls in the rocks, and tasted the strange meat Elias had fed them, a taste that still lingered like a curse.
Speaker A:The superstitions had claimed more than his wife.
Speaker A:They'd taken a piece of his soul, leaving him to wonder what had turned her and whether it still watched from the shadows, waiting for him to return.
Speaker A:And he waited, too.
Speaker A:Waited for his leg to heal so he could return to the Superstition Mountains.
Speaker A:But this time, he wouldn't be the hunted.
Speaker A:That's it for this episode.
Speaker A:If you're enjoying the stories, please support the podcast by buying me a coffee.
Speaker A:The link is in the episode show notes, and I would greatly appreciate your support.
Speaker A:New episodes of the When Reality Phrase podcast are released every Monday and Thursday.
Speaker A:If you're enjoying the journey into the strange, the mysterious, and the unexplained, be sure to press that Follow or Subscribe button and turn on all reminders so you're alerted whenever an episode drops.
Speaker A:Until next time, thank you for listening to When Reality Frays.
