Part 1 Death Stalks Moon Valley

Part 1_Death Stalks Moon Valley
A Collection of Horror Short Stories
Written by DA Roberts.
The book can be bought through Amazon. Search the writers name and the title of the book. Its a good read.

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Episode Transcript

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I'd like to read two stories froma book called Death Stalk's Moon Valley written
by our favorite author D. A. Roberts. You can find this book
on Amazon by searching d Dot ADot Roberts Death Stalk's Moon Valley. You
can buy an electronic version or apaperback version. Right now, I'm going

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to read you a couple of storiesfrom this It's a collection of short stories
that I think anyone who likes thescary type genre will like, so go
check him out at Amazon. TheBeast of the Valley Osage River Valley,

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north of Lynn Creek, Missouri,January twenty three, eighteen fifty three.
Three days in a row, WilliamWest had gone out in the morning to
check his livestock and found at leastone animal dead. The frozen ground made
it almost impossible to find the tracksof the culprit, but William knew it

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had to be wolves. There wasnothing else anyone had seen in the Osage
River Valley that could take down alarge steer like that, and then to
see the sheer amount of damage ithad done to the poor animal. On
the third morning, it had struckand killed a heifer who was expecting her
first calf. In a few weeks. Not only had the heifer been brutally

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killed, but the unborn calf hadbeen ripped from her stomach and mostly devoured
on the spot. To make iteven worse, his best stock dog had
tried to defend the heifer and meta similar fate. The only difference was
that it hadn't fed on the dog. It tore the dog to shreds and
scattered the pieces around the area,and from the amount of blood and the

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condition of the body, it wasclear that the dog had gone down fighting,
not that it had done it anygood. With the losses growing expensive
to the herd in William's pocket book, he decided it was time to do
something about it. After he draggedthe biggest pieces of the carcasses down by
the river bank and well away fromthe rest of the herd, William quickly

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finished the morning chores and hurried backto the house. He gathered up his
hunting rifle, his powder horn,and extra lead shot, and he slung
them over his shoulder. Where areyou off to, William asked his young
bride, Amelia. We had anotherone of the cattle killed last night,
he explained. They got the pregnantheifer, and they killed the stock dog

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too. I've got to stop thiskilling before we lose everything. So what
are you doing right now, sheasked, nodding at his rifle. I'm
going to ride down to the valleyto your brother's place and see if he'll
help me track and kill this wolfpack. Thomas is a better hunter than
I am. In a crack shotbetween the two of us, will kill

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enough of the pack that they won'tcome back. Has he lost any of
his hurt, she asked. LastI spoke to him, he'd lost two
calves and a few chickens. I'msure he'll want this pack put down as
much as I do. I'll puton a good supper for the evening,
said Amelia. I expect Thomas tobring at least one of his sons.

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I'll be ready to feed you allbefore you go out hunting. William kissed
his bride and went out and saddledhis mule. Once he was set,
he headed down the river road.It was only five miles to Thomas's farm,
and they could return by early afternoon. That would give him time to
try locating tracks or a possible denbefore sunset. The sun was warm on

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his face despite the chill in theair as he rode down the river road.
It was a beautiful winter day,and he felt confident they could end
the threat to his livestock by mourning. That wouldn't mean every farmer along the
River valley could sleep easier knowing hislivestock were safe. It might also put

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some much needed money in his pocket. If they could collect a few wolf
pelts in good condition, they coulduse the money to recoup the losses from
the dead livestock, and maybe someto spare. He'd had his eye on
a new plow for a few months. Just after midday, William Thomas and
his oldest son, Jonah, arrivedat the homestead. He could see the

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smoke rising from the chimney and smellthe fresh bread as he put his mule
back into the barn. Thomas helpedput away the mules, while Jonah went
inside to see his aunt Amelia.Once they put away the mules, Thomas
and William headed to the field tosearch for tracks. They found indistinct impressions
in the frozen ground, but nothingthey could identify or follow for any distance.

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The tracks they could locate were oddand shape differently than they had ever
seen before. It almost looked likewhatever it had been was walking on two
legs. They both laughed when theydiscussed that, knowing how preposterous that had
to be. No men could dothe things that happened to these animals.

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They returned to the house by supperand sat down for a meal of Amelia's
famous chicken and dumplings with fresh bakedbread and apple pie. They laughed and
caught up on the doings of bothfamilies. It had been a few weeks
since Thomas had visited, and Ameliawas excited to send back some fresh eggs
and bread with him. When theyfinished eating, the laughter seemed to fade

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away. Thomas and William got upand started checking over their rifles and equipment.
Thomas loaded a rifle for Jonah andset out extra lead balls and powder.
We're putting you up on the barnroof where the flat side meets the
corral, said Thomas. From thereyou should have a good view of the

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pasture. I take your time andaim like I taught to you, and
most importantly, though, don't shootme or your uncle. Jonah laughed.
I won't, Papa, he assuredhim. Well, at least don't shoot
me, said William. Thomas isn'tas pretty as I am. That drew
a round of LIFs. All right, said William. Let's head out to

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the field. Jonah wants you're inposition. I want you to make an
owl call if you see anything movingnear the stock. Yes, sir,
said Jonah. I'll be watching.William grabbed his own powder, an extra
lead ball shot, and headed forthe door. Amelia kissed him and put
his hat on his head. Nowyou be careful out there, she said,

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smiling. Don't let the wolves getyou. We'll be careful, William
assured her. They headed out intothe darkness, and she watched as they
helped Jonah onto the flat section ofthe barn roof and then headed out into
the field. She suddenly had astrange feeling of impending danger. A full

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moon was in the sky and thecattle were already acting nervous. Shutting the
door, she placed the locking barand sat by the fireplace to pray for
their safety. After a moment's thought, she started praying for them all.
Moving away from the barn, Thomasand Williams stopped at the edge of the
field. William pointed at the farside near the river, and he leaned

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close to Thomas. That's where they'vebeen coming into the fields, whispered William.
I set up near those willow trees, whispered Thomas, you set up
near the big trough. That waywe can shoot without getting in each other's
way. William nodded and headed forthe trough. He watched as Thomas crept
along the edge of the field,disappearing into the shadows beneath the willows.

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The cattle were already nervous and startingto group up near the center of the
field. They circled a few calvesin the herb, protecting them from whatever
threat they sensed. The cattle startedlowing with more intensity. William could tell
from the higher pits that they weresensing trouble coming closer. Although he had

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not seen anything, he started feelingthe tension himself. He saw a dark
shadow flip from one bunch of thebushes to another near the river. Whatever
it was, it moved impossibly fast. It moved on all fours, so
it had to be a wolf.No bear moved that fast. Slowly,

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William caught back the hammer on hisrifle to avoid making too much noise.
Even with these precautions, it seemeddeafeningly loud in the stillness of the night.
The moon peeked intermittently through the scatteredclouds, casting its cold, silvery
light on the field before them.William got his first clear look at the

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creature when the beast stepped out frombehind the bushes to slip closer to the
fence. It looked like a wolf, but it was far larger than any
he had ever seen. It wasalso the deep black that one only sees
in a cave, or when theclouds are thick enough to blot out even
the light of the stars. Hecould see it moving in the shadows as

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a darker shadow. Only the feralyellow eyes seemed to glow with the light
all their own, made all theclearer by the cold, silvery blue of
the moonlight. Raising his rifle,he sighted on the beast, placing his
sight squarely on the spot just behindthe front legs. He wanted to destroy

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the heart and drop the beast quickly. A wolf of that size could do
considerable damage before it died. Ifhe merely wounded it, the east could
turn on one of them, orvanish into the night, only to die
deep in the wilds, and ifthat happened, he would never collect the
pelt. He needed that money toreplace the livestock it had killed. Closing

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one eye, he was just easinghis breath to take up the slack on
the trigger when the resounding boom ofa gunshot roared out through the darkness.
William saw the muzzle flash and knewit had been Thomas. At a range
of less than fifty yards, therewas no way that Thomas had missed his
target. William had seen him dropa deer at twice the range with a

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single shot. William knew that Thomashad struck his target from the beach's reaction,
but instead of falling, the beastswhirled around and headed directly at Thomas,
taking careful aim. William knew hehad to drop the beast before it
could reach Thomas, otherwise it wouldlikely tear out his throat before it died.

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The boom of Tom's pistol roared inthe darkness, and the creature stumbled,
but it didn't fall. William firedand saw the creature twist and hit
the ground, rolling to a stopa few yards short of where Thomas sat
hidden in the willows. To William'ssurprise, the beast got up and leaped
into the willows, and that's whenthe screaming started. Getting to his feet,

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William sprinted toward the willows, drawinghis pistol as he ran. In
the head he could see the blackliquid that seemed to coat the ground in
the willow leaves, but there wasno sign of Thomas or the beast.
The screaming sounded once more, onlythis time it gurgled and ceased with a
wet, crunching sound. The beasthad dragged Thomas down the embankment near the

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river. Just before William reached theembankment's edge, the creature jumped up before
him, and the beast's fur listenedand oily black in the moonlight. But
William knew it had to be Thomas'sblood. Raising his pistol, he shot
the beast it almost point blank,ranged directly in the head. He heard

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the grunt of pain as the beastfell to the ground, and stepping around
the beast, William looked down atthe river bank and he saw Thomas.
The beast had torn his head fromhis shoulders and ripped one arm off at
the elbow behind him, he hearda strange popping sound, almost like when
you rung a chicken's neck. DearGod, William cried. He started to

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head down the embankment when he felthot breath on the back of his neck
and the ramsid smell of blood androtten meat enveloped him, and his stomach
almost emptied its contents. Oh no, he whispered. He expected to fill
the sharp teeth of the beast sinkingto his skin, but was shocked when
a pair of massive hands gripped hisneck and lifted him from the ground as

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if he didn't weigh an ounce.As the beast turned him around, William
could see directly into the creature's hellishyellow eyes, and new at his feet
were dangling over two feet off theground below him. Merciful God, he
gasped, He can't save you,rumbled the beast's voice, deep and menacing.

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The beast spoke, and that thoughtwas terrifying, beyond words. He
felt his bladder release as he staredinto the beast's eyes. It was leaning
closer, as if to bite hisface off. When William heard the gunshot.
Jonah had fired his rifle. Williamheard the creature grunt softly, but

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seemed to make no other reaction.It was as if the bullets had done
no real damage. William was surethat he was staring into the eyes of
the devil himself, and with acrunch of bone, the beast tossed William
against the embankment. It had brokenhis neck and he couldn't move, but
he wasn't dead yet. He knewthat was only a matter of time.

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He watched in horror as the beastturned around and ran on two legs directly
at Jonah. He tried to screamfor Jonah to run, but his voice
wouldn't work. Only a soft moanescaped from his lips. He saw Jonah
get to his feet and look fora place to run, but the beast
was too fast. It was onthe barn's roof, bearing Jonah to the

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ground in a single leap. Williamwas grateful that he was far enough away
that he couldn't hear the breaking ofthe boy's neck. And there was a
short scream of pain, and thenthe beast stood up holding Jonah's head.
It looked into the eyes momentarily beforetossing the head aside like it no longer
mattered, and then William saw thebeast slowly turn its gaze to the small

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farmhouse. It was going after hisbeloved Amelia. He tried to scream,
but no words came out. Hetried to force his body to move,
but it would not listen. Hisvision began fading as he saw the front
door smash open with one massive blowof the beast's fist. That was the

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last thing he saw in this world, And as the light faded away,
the last sound he heard was hiswife screaming, and then all sensation was
gone. Days later, when neighborscame to check on the farm because some
of their stock had gotten out andwandered over to the other farms, they
were greeted with a gruesome sight.The house was completely ransacked and there was

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blood everywhere. There was more bloodon the side of the barn and the
roof of the barn, and inthe field and near the river, but
there were no bodies. There wasno trace of the four missing settlers.
The stories traveled up and down theriver valley. The beast had claimed more
victim. The beast of the valleywas once more stalking the night, and

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no one was safe Beast of Lakeof the Ozarks from the Journal of Deacon
MacCready, dated December twelve, twentysixteen. Long before the days when they
built Begled Dam, farms and homeslined the valley formed by the edge of

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the Osage River. Our family hadformed that river valley since before Missouri was
even a state. My great greatgrandfather Ara MacCready settled this farmstead in eighteen
sixteen. By the sweat of hisbrow and the blood in his veins,
my family formed that parcel of landuntil the government took it from us when

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the construction of the dam began innineteen thirty one. Now I'm old,
but I still remember the days ofrunning along that river when I was a
boy, fishing and hunting and playgames with my brothers. My memory isn't
what it once was, but Iremember clearly the tales my grandfather told me
by the fire, when the winterwind would howl through the valley and shake

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the thin panes of glass in ourlittle farmhouse, when the icy grip of
old man winter would bite into yourflesh like a ravenous jaws of the beast
of the valley. Well, what'sthat? What's the beast of the valley.
That's an old tail from even olderdays, full of death and misery,
that dates to when settlers first camehere. I used to think it

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was a tall tail to scare uschildren at night around the fireplace. But
I could see the haunted look inmy grandfather's eyes when the wind would rattle
the door, and I knew thatit wasn't just a tail. And in
the dark past of generations long gone, the beast once walked this valley.

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I could tell from the look onhis face that not only was the creature
real, but he had seen itfor himself. You don't get that haunted
look from a secondhand story. Therewere tales of animals found torn to pieces,
dogs going missing, and the occasionaltraveler called out after dark. My

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grandfather even told me a story ofa homestead found with the door smashed in
and blood everywhere inside, but noother sign of the family that had lived
there. And then the dirt outsidewere massive tracks that looked like they belonged
to a gigantic wolf, a wolfwalking on two legs. I didn't believe

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him until I found some of thosetracks in the fresh mud along the bank
of our pond not fifty feet frommy bedroom window. Then there were the
nights in the fall of the yearwhen my grandfather and father would build large
bonfires near the house, and theywould keep them burning all night. Sometimes
members of the local Osage Indian tribewould come to our home and help with

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the fires. They also brought aplant my father called aconite to plant around
the house for protection. They cautionedus not to touch it or let the
animals eat it. I didn't knowuntil years later that the common name for
aconite is wolf Spain. It waseven said that during the dam construction,

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several workers vanished while walking home lateat night from the job site. It
got so bad that the work crewstarted walking to and from work in groups
and they carried guns. Many quittheir job and never returned to work.
And then when the dam neared completionand the water started to rise, the

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attacks suddenly stopped. I thought thatonce they had finished building the dam,
we would hear the last of thebeast. But with the creation of the
Lake of the Ozarks, they buriedthose farms beneath the dark water of the
lake. There were no more attackson people in livestock, No strange howls
in the night that sounded eerily likea wolf, but not exactly, a

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howl that had an almost human qualityto it, a quality that would turn
the blood in your veins to ice. Once they finished the dam, it
all stopped. It wasn't long aftermore and more the older generation either passed
away or left the area that theBeast of the Valley became a fading memory.

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It was all but forgotten by almosteveryone. After my brothers died in
World War II and my sister diedin childbirth, I alone was left to
remember the tales. I even beganto doubt them as age and time took
their toll on me. And thatwas until the winter of twenty and sixteen,

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when everything changed. I was rapidlyapproaching my one hundredth birthday. I
still lived in my little house nearLynn Creek, Missouri. It was less
than five miles from where our farmhad been. My granddaughter lived with me,
partially to care for me and partiallybecause she had nowhere else to go.

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It worked out well for me becauseit kept my two sons from putting
me in a nursing home. Thewinter hadn't been all that harsh, but
the coal still crept into my oldbones. That first night in December,
the wind howled in from across thelake, shaking the windows on my old
home, and that night I heardthat blood curdling howl drifting on the wind.

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My blood seemed to freeze, andfor a moment I thought I was
having a heart attack. The painsubsided, but an icy grip that went
to my core replaced it. Idon't know what had changed, but the
beast was back. I told mygranddaughter to make sure that all the windows
and doors were securely locked. Shelaughed at me and told me I was

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just being paranoid. She said itwas just the wind, but I knew
better. I refused to calm downuntil she had double checked the doors,
and she scoffed at me, sayingthat I was working myself up over an
old wives tale. She even laughedwhen I told her the story my grandfather
had told me many years before.She stopped laughing when we saw the hellish

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red eyes in the darkness and heardthe heavy footsteps on the wooden porch,
footsteps that ended with a rasping scrapeof claws against the wood. I could
see the terror on her face asShe slid the heavy desk in front of
the door, and I knew fromthe old tales that if the beast wanted
in, that desk wasn't gonna stopit. It's just an animal, she

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whispered as we hid near the stairs. We both knew that was a lie.
Animals don't try the door handle.M