Who Is Ornias Goodnight?

“Good night.”
How many of you have uttered that phrase to a friend or loved one? Perhaps your mother tucked you into your bed with those words every night as you were growing up.

But is every night a ‘good night´?

Think before you answer.

Some nights are simply bad nights. And some places are truly bad places. Sometimes, being in the wrong place at the wrong time can be deadly.

In the Black Hills, one location south of Rapid City has earned a decidedly sinister reputation. Locals call it FORT FEAR. Tragedy seems to befall nearly everyone who sets foot on this blighted ground. Like flies caught in a web, one must struggle mightily to break free. Many never do…

For example, the group of musicians who set up a chuck wagon supper and show on this cursed land. They soon grew jealous of each others´ skill until one night they turned on one another in anger. Now their ghosts must strum and sing for all eternity.

Or the grand rodeo that was to have taken place on the site decades ago. Before the show, the rodeo clowns were all found gored and gutted, as if by a pair of horns, though the trailer carrying the bulls never arrived.

Pray for the lost souls of the sheriff and his deputy, the bordello madam, the cowboys, the homesteaders and the tourists who have died on this plot of land.

They did not heed the warnings. Now their souls cannot rest.

And still there are those who remain ignorant of the dark history of FORT FEAR! Those who laugh in the face of danger only because they don´t know…
They don´t know the story of ORNIAS GOODNIGHT and the horror that tore his life -and his immortal soul- asunder.

* * *

“Ornias Goodnight!”

The boy jumped when he heard his mother calling his name. For a moment his guilty conscience tricked him into thinking she´d just called him an ‘ornery ass.´

“What are you up to, young man?” She hollered. Ornias threw a fearful glance over his shoulder to see if his mother had rounded the corner of their cabin.

Not yet. He had just a few moments to get rid of the thing before he was caught red-handed. Ornias glanced around wildly. The well! He ran to the rim, opened his palm and dropped the strange object in. Ornias heard a small splash from the bottom of the well and spun around just as his mother appeared.

“Ornias, what in the world is keeping you? Hurry now! Supper´s on.”

The boy scampered toward the front door. Then he glanced back and stopped in his tracks. His mother was drawing a bucket of water from the well.

The boy bit his lip nervously, then turned and ran inside. He didn´t want to risk getting a whipping, so he kept quiet.

Ornias Goodnight watched fearfully as his family ate. His own appetite had disappeared. Didn´t the water taste strange? Ornias kept waiting for someone to complain. If they did, then he´d confess. He would explain about the thing he´d found in the forest. He´d admit carrying it home and then tossing it into the well. They´d complain about the taste of the water, and that would be his opportunity. He´d confess and all would be forgiven!

But no one complained, so he didn´t confess. By sunrise, his entire family was dead.

* * *

Digging graves deep enough to keep coyotes and buzzards from tearing up the ground and feasting on the bodies is no easy task. Now imagine a young boy, miles from the closest neighbor, faced with completing this task alone. Imagine the boy´s sorrow over losing everyone he´s ever loved in one fell swoop.

Ornias feels the sting of blisters developing on his palms as he digs. He feels the itching of the mosquito bites all over his sweaty skin. His muscles burn and he wants to rest so badly that he´s shaking. Ornias fights through the stinging in his eyes. It´s just sweat… and maybe a few tears.

He tries not to look at the bodies. Mother.Father. His dear little sister.

Ornias tries especially hard to avoid looking at his twin brother. He doesn´t understand how or why, but no matter how many times he closes Thaddeus´ eyes, they´re open and accusing every time he looks again.

Young Ornias Goodnight trembles under the physical and emotional strain, but he keeps digging.

* * *

“This saloon is hot as hell tonight!” The stranger in the black felt top hat and red crushed velvet suit coat grinned at him as he spoke from the next bar stool.

“I reckon.” Ornias Goodnight responded. He didn´t know the stranger and wasn´t eager to begin a conversation with him.

“Tell me friend,” the dark-eyed man murmured as he edged in closer. “If you could have one wish, what would it be?”

Ornias placed his shot glass on the bar and swiveled toward the stranger. He looked like some fancy city-slicker and Ornias knew just what to say to get rid of him.

“My family all died of poisoning when I was a boy. I´d wish to have them back.”

The stranger grinned. Ornias was reminded of a coyote circling wounded prey.

“And what would you give in return?” the stranger prompted.

“I don´t know.”

“That´s not very imaginative. Come now, you can do better!” The stranger grabbed Ornias by the arm. “Think up something fanciful and exciting! Your eternal soul for instance!”

“Fine. My eternal soul.” Ornias rolled his eyes.

The stranger squealed with glee. “And you must promise to bring more souls to replace the ones you´re getting back. You´d have to lure them to me to earn your family´s safe return!”

Ornias felt nausea boiling up inside him. Who was this creep? The joke had worn thin. “And if I promise to do this?” he asked.

“Then you can have your family back, one by one.” The stranger´s features seemed to flicker and shift. Ornias decided he´d had enough whiskey for the night. “Your twin brother Thaddeus will be first.”

“Much obliged,” Ornias said, doing his best to ignore the mounting sense of unease he felt. He didn´t know how the stranger knew his brother´s name, but he did know that he wanted to get out of there right away. He rose shakily to his feet. “I think I´ll pass on your offer.”

“Too late now!” the stranger proclaimed. He reached out and clutched Ornias´ face with two large hands. Ornias smelled meat cooking as he struggled against the stranger´s powerful grip. The pain quickly became unbearable. Ornias screamed in agony until his vocal cords were shredded. Shock set in then, and the room faded to black. The last thing he heard the stranger say was:

“When you cook them right, the meat just falls right off the bone.”

* * *

Ornias Goodnight knows it is too late to save his own soul. And he knows it is too late to reject his part of the bargain. He´ll lure unwitting victims to the site of his childhood home. He´ll lead them through the haunted halls. Ornias knows many souls may be lost, but that was part of the bargain, wasn´t it?

Ornias knows that his twin brother also roams this cursed place. Thaddeus Goodnight has returned and he has his own purpose to serve. Ornias has spoken with his twin, who still resembles him even in death. The stranger said Ornias must lure souls to him like a goat leads lambs to slaughter. Thaddeus is not held to these rules. Thaddeus could lead these same souls to safety. Seeing the loophole in the stranger´s offer, Thaddeus has offered his own soul as a sacrifice again and again, returning from the dead only when some unfortunate person chooses the wrong path.

Some are sharp enough and brave enough to make the decision that will lead them out. Others are not. Some visitors realize that Ornias Goodnight hinders their progress in order to uphold his part of the bargain with the stranger, while his brother Thaddeus attempts to guide them to safety.

But when the moment to choose their fate arrives, few make the correct decision. Ornias wishes that he and his brother were not twins. He knows many a poor soul has been lost… because they could not tell the two apart.

* * *

If you enter FORT FEAR, you do so at your own peril.
I, the humble author, escaped with my life from there once. I will not tempt fate again.
If you feel inclined to enter, so be it; I cannot stop you.
Good luck… and GOODNIGHT.

Adrian Ludens, who researched the legend of Ornias Goodnight, also writes entirely fictional horror and mystery short stories! His work has appeared in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, Crossed Genres, Morpheus Tales, Twisted Tongue and many others. Visit him at: www.myspace.com/adrianludens