By Eric G. Ekaut

As nineteen year old Jacob Moss sat in the backseat, he could still hear the paranoid warnings of his mother over and over again in his head, warnings that got progressively worse over the past few years yet started soon after his father’s mysterious death when he was only two.

Jacob loved his mother and understood her over protectiveness, especially for an only child who over the years was made fun of for his weight and had a hard time making friends. He understood her being skeptical this time as well.

Jacob was at a point in his life where he needed someone other than his mother. He needed to be accepted, and this time really did feel different from the others.

Jacob’s brown eyes, set in a chunky face, watched the trees outside whip by in a blur. His mother’s voice finally gave way to the hypnotic rhythm of tires over smooth pavement until the vehicle took a sharp turn, and then began to rattle slightly as gravel and rock of an uneven dirt road crunched under the tires.

Zeta Kappa frat leader Ruben Trent sat casually behind the wheel, one hand steered while both eyes watched the desolate road. He wore a Detroit Lions hat backwards and a gray hoodie with the fraternity name stitched across the chest. A well respected, twenty-two year old black man, Ruben carried himself well, which was one of many reasons why he was an easy choice for fraternity leader.

Brett Sullivan sat shotgun. He was a couple of years older than Jacob and a few months younger than Ruben. Every shirt the business major wore had a collar.

“It’s pledge week,” Ruben said.

“That’s right quiet boy, and tonight’s hazing night,” Brett added. He turned to Jacob. “You ready to become Zeta Kappa?”

Vic Perez sat in the back next to Jacob. Barely twenty-one, his black shirt had white bold words that read “party time”. He thumbed through a Playboy magazine, found a gorgeous blonde centerfold and held her in front of Jacob’s face.

“Zeta Kappa gets the hottest tail at State,” Vic said.

Jacob turned away, blushed at what probably was his first glance at a pair of tits, or maybe they are just nicer than any he has ever seen.

Brett concealed a snide smile with his hand. “One thing stands between you and that,” he said as he pointed at the centerfold.

“Initiation,” Ruben said. He peered into the rear view mirror, at Jacob, who looked back quickly. No way could he ever get a woman that beautiful, even as a member of an elite fraternity. Jacob began to wonder if momma was right again.

Brett dangled his arms over the seat, faced Jacob. “You ever hear of Theodore Doom?”

Jacob responded no with a shake of his head.

“Theodore Doom was the worst serial killer in Michigan,” Ruben said. “He killed men, women, children, didn’t matter. Master manipulator who convinced the legal system he was insane when everyone knew he enjoyed killing. One night family members of his thirty plus victims torched his house while he was sleeping.”

“After the house burnt to the ground, police and firefighters found his charred remains, still in bed,” Brett added.

Jacob glanced out the window again. The blur of the trees morphed into a blur of darkness that seemed endless.

Ruben’s blue Chevy Trailblazer turned slowly onto a gravel driveway consumed mostly of weeds and grass. The headlights illuminated a chipped, cracked brick archway, beaten by the weather, which stood at the entrance of a large empty lot. An elderly tree leaned to the side, draped its dead, brittle branches over the top of the archway.

The headlights partially illuminated what is now known as Doom’s lot.

The blazer doors popped open and the four boys exited the truck.

Vic was the first one to take a long look through the archway and out into the lot. “I wouldn’t walk out there alone, even if there were a party and pussy waiting.”

“Only one of us is walking out there alone,” Ruben added.

All four boys settled their eyes on the lot beyond the brick archway. It seemed endless against the black sky. The first part of the lot was covered by tall, weedy grass that swayed gently in a calm breeze. The horizon however was shrouded by a dense fog that started halfway out and abruptly cut off visibility to the rest of the land.

Ruben turned to Jacob with a serious face. “Three cemeteries have confirmed that they rejected Mrs. Doom’s request to have her son buried.”

“Is that why she buried him here?” Brett asked, goading Ruben to answer.

“Yep. Shortly after the burial, this fog appeared, and it hasn’t cleared since.”

The fog, it seemed to swirl around slowly yet never wandered beyond the lot’s boundaries, like it were alive, with restrictions on where it could go, or wanted to go. It served as a white wall that hid the second half of the lot and allowed visibility to no one.

In Jacob’s mind it wasn’t the fog itself that was creepy, but its existence being limited to one area as if it belonged only there and no where else in the vicinity, that and the mystery of what really lied beyond it.

“It’s believed that somewhere within that fog is a large rock, Theodore’s headstone,” Ruben said. “About a year ago five film students shooting a documentary walked out there, to prove once and for all whether the rumors were true or false.”

Jacob tried to convince himself silently that their methods were only scare tactics. He didn’t want to give them any other reasons to make fun of him, if that was their intentions, but it was hard to cage his mind when it wanted to wander.

“What happened to them?” Jacob asked.

“Don’t know,” Brett answered quickly. He shook his head and tried not to crack a smile. “They never came back.”

The boys followed Ruben to the rear of the blazer. Ruben opened the back door, reached inside, moved a cooler out-of-the-way and grabbed a rusted shovel with a sharp triangular point along with a flashlight.

Ruben held them both out for Jacob to take. “Find the rock, and see if Doom is indeed buried there.”

“You want me to grave rob?” Jacob asked.

“You wanna be Zeta Kappa?” Brett answered.

Ruben, Brett and Vic stared at Jacob.

Jacob stared back, and then finally stared out at the fog.

“If this fraternity is willing to accept me as a member, then I’m willing to do what is asked of me.”

Jacob took the shovel and the flashlight. He turned, faced the lot, and after a deep breath, walked through the brick archway.

The boys watched as Jacob shuffled his feet closer to the awaiting fog. Their eyes grew with anticipation. They wondered how far he would go.

Jacob continued forward, finally swallowed by the fog.

Ruben smirked, opened the driver’s side door, leaned in and turned off the headlights.

Blackness engulfed the lot. Only the faint beam of Jacob’s flashlight could be seen until it too drifted out of sight.

Ruben strolled back to the rear of the blazer, pulled the cooler close to him, opened the lid and handed Brett and Vic a beer.

Brett lit up a joint.

“I wonder if he’ll see anything out there,” Ruben said.

“Doubt it,” Brett said holding in smoke. “Those stories are all wives tales to make the lot more eerie.”

“What about the fog?” Ruben said as he took the joint from Brett.

“It comes from the cool lake behind the property.”

“Bullshit! The lake’s bigger than the lot. Why isn’t it anywhere else?”

“It’s nature. It’s nothing paranormal.”

“And you’re an expert on the paranormal?” Ruben barked.

“Will you hit that and pass it over,” Vic interrupted.

Ruben hit the joint, and then passed it to Vic. Vic took his turn getting high and reminded them that none of that shit mattered, that the initiation was merely a scare tactic, a test to see if Jacob had the balls to walk out into an eerie, pitch black lot alone and prove he wasn’t the fat momma’s boy he was perceived to be since seventh grade. Plus he wanted to get this over with and get to the sorority party that awaited their frat and its newest member.

Jacob was alone and somewhere near the center of the lot. About the only thing he could feel now was his heart pounding against the inside of his chest as his initiation grew closer.

He stepped forward timidly, peered through the fog as the beam of his flashlight cut through its thickness. Leaves and brittle twigs crunched and snapped under his feet. Shadows darted back and forth in his peripheral vision.

Jacob stopped moving, stood still, frozen with fear. Leaves and brittle twigs crunched and snapped under footsteps that were not his, in the distance, and getting closer.

Jacob glanced to his left, then his right, then behind him.

Five figures, dressed in black hooded robes, drifted out of the fog and formed a small circle around him.

Back at the blazer, the joint was now a roach and when Ruben burnt his lips taking a hit, he knew it was time for them to go find Jacob and welcome him to Zeta Kappa.

Ruben fetched three more flashlights and handed them out as they finished their beers.

Brett lit up a cigarette and the boys strolled under the archway and through the lot, like just another stroll through just another park. There was nothing to fear, not yet, not until Ruben’s flashlight illuminated a large rock with the letters T.D carved into it.

“The myth is true,” Ruben said. “It really exists.”

“It’s fake,” Brett said smirking with disbelief. “Probably not even a real rock. I’ll bet someone put it there to add to the eeriness, or to fuck with them five film students.”

Ruben stepped closer, knelt on one knee and rubbed his fingers along the letters. “It’s real,” he whispered.

His face gleamed like a Christian discovering an ancient artifact belonging to Christ. He was so enamored with the rock that it was no surprise he didn’t see the two robed figures materialize from within the fog, one behind Vic and one behind Brett. White hands smothered their mouths and then dragged them backward. They vanished into the fog by the time Ruben stood up.

Ruben looked around. A slight anxiety set in when he grasped the idea of being alone. He watched as the fog thickened, moved closer to him, and wondered if this was weed induced paranoia. He took a step forward and kicked something with his right foot. He glanced down and saw Jacob’s flashlight.

Ruben didn’t quite realize just how eerie being alone in the lot would be until now, and just how much his mind would ponder the many myths he had read about over the past couple of years.

Ruben dealt with the initial restlessness by continually reminding himself that he didn’t believe in any danger. Once he mastered that thought, he started to feel something else, irked that his own frat brothers would go off in an attempt to scare him. Tonight’s scare tactic was solely a fraternity hazing, welcoming in a new member by pushing his fear to the limit. It had nothing to do with anyone else, particularly the frat leader.

As he thought about it more, he became irritated, and then flat out angry.

Ruben took a few more steps forward, and then stopped. The fog continued to thicken. He couldn’t see in front of him. Visibility was near impossible even with the flashlight and an unexpected panic set in as he lost his sense of direction.

Time was as still as his body as he strained to hear the sounds of Brett or Vic moving around. Silence was all that he could hear. To make matters worse his flashlight began to flicker, and within seconds it was out.

Ruben blocked out distress by convincing himself that it really made no difference because he couldn’t see when it worked.

Ruben took a deep breath, gathered his scattering thoughts before they were too far out of reach and tried to make sense out of the whole thing.

The fog in front of him began to thin and revealed someone standing just a few feet away. Ruben had the strange feeling that this was no longer a spooky coincidence. It was as if the fog had a mind, a soul, and was moving with a purpose, a purpose to reveal someone.

That someone was Jacob.

He was poised next to a freshly dug grave headed by a large rock. He held the shovel upright with its triangular point facing the sky.

Ruben suddenly found himself bewildered, his thoughts as foggy as the lot, especially when he noticed the blood dripping from the shovel.

“You find anything?” Ruben asked. They were really the only words he could muster.

Jacob had no response. He just stared at Ruben with a set of hollowed eyes nobody had seen before.

Ruben stood still, waited for Brett and Vic to show up, which he hoped would be any second now because Jacob’s eyes upon him was becoming quite unsettling.

“Where the hell are the others?”

Jacob held his hollow stare, and then glanced at the grave.

Ruben stepped to the edge of the grave, peered down, and was instantly mortified at the sight of his frat brothers, Brett and Vic, at the bottom of the grave, executed by way of the Columbian necktie.

Ruben staggered back, turned towards Jacob when his face was met with the steel end of the shovel. The blow was so powerful that it lifted him off his feet. He fell hard against the cold Earth. Groggy with glazed eyes, he stared up at Jacob.

“What the hell are you doing man? We accepted you! We’re not like the others!”

“We have overpopulated this planet and your God has failed to supply it with enough food,” Jacob said. His voice deeper and duller than Ruben had remembered. “I chose to join the kin that will decrease population until our leader finds this world fit to rule, like he was meant to do in Heaven. DIE accepted me first.”

Two robed figures stepped through the fog. One held down Ruben’s hands, the other held down his feet.

Jacob stood over him, one foot on each side of his chest and stared into his terrified eyes.

Ruben did not resist. He felt cooperating may just be the one thing that saves his life.

“I’ve been watching you,” Jacob said. “A psychology major with a true passion in parapsychology. You think that literature on Theodore Doom, and Doom’s lot got to you by accident?”

Jacob went on to speak of past hazing rituals conducted by Zeta Kappa, all led by Ruben Trent. He spoke of Damon Ross, who was told the tale of an old lady in white that appeared at a forested part of Belle Isle, and waved her hand inviting people into the woods. No one had ever followed her into the woods, until Ruben challenged Damon to be the first.

And Joey Heeves, who was forced to spend the night alone in a cemetery rumored to be haunted by souls not at rest.

“I knew you would bring me here,” Jacob added with a sneer.

Jacob raised the shovel in the air vertically, held it above Ruben’s neck. Ruben felt it a good time as ever to try and break loose, to no avail.

“Please don’t,” Ruben pleaded, eyes drenched with fear.

With the pointed end of the shovel, Jacob slashed Ruben’s throat.

Ruben convulsed, gagged on his own gushing blood.

Jacob crouched down, pulled Ruben’s tongue through the gaping wound in his throat, toward the sternum, and watched as Ruben took his last gasp and died.

Jacob rolled his body into the grave. As if he were a little boy burying a pet, he filled the grave. He flattened and smoothed out the dirt, stuck the shovel into the ground and with an awl he had taken from his back pocket, carved D.I.E into the rock.

Jacob stood up straight, looked on as the two robed figures were joined by three more. They formed a circle around Jacob and chanted hushed sounds that were more gibberish than understandable words.

A sixth robed figure appeared from the fog and moved robotically towards Jacob until he stood face to face with him. Jacob gazed into evil eyes set in a pale, rough and scarred face of an older man, the leader.

“Do you renounce God and the Holy Spirit?” the leader asked.

“I do,” Jacob answered.

“Do you completely swear to me, Lucifer, ruler of the Dark Abyss?”

“I do.”

The leader bowed to Jacob.

Jacob bowed back. He held that position as the leader draped a black robe over Jacob’s body, and then lifted the hood over Jacob’s head.

“Welcome to our kin, code name Delta Iota Epsilon.”

Jacob straightened his back. The hood covered more than half of his catatonic face, not yet as pale as the others. His leader and five chanting followers escorted Jacob through the fog, towards the black horizon. They moved in unison, through tall, weedy grass and passed by another large rock. Several feet away another, and then another, all with D.I.E carved into them.

The fog swirled, thinned and lifted, gave way to a full moon as it snuck out from behind a cloud and beamed down to Earth. The light dimly revealed what waited at the back half of Doom’s lot, hundreds of others, cloaked in black hooded robes, amongst hundreds of large rocks.

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