<p> This is a work in progress. It is Copyright  Michael J. Natale</p><p>It is provided here for personal, non commercial use under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivatives license.</p><p>PAST SINS</p><p>By</p><p>Michael J. Natale</p><p> [email protected]</p><p>Jacob stood at the edge of The Pit, looking down into the giant wound in the earth at the shattered bones and hardened fragments of what were once corpses littering the bottom.</p><p>Their cracked, broken remains were strewn about The Pit floor like the macabre leftovers of some demented child’s toys, casually tossed away in a fit of anger or frustration. </p><p>In many ways, that’s exactly what they were.</p><p>Jacob had the benefit of seeing each of the carcasses whole before they had been thrown to the floor of the Pit.</p><p>As he stared, he could almost see the flesh fill out the Past Sins Page 2 Michael Natale cracked skulls and fragments of bone that were too tiny to have been full grown men or women. In his mind’s eye, miniature sacks of jelly grew bloated and bloodshot in the dead eye-sockets, and fixed him with an accusatory stare.</p><p>He shivered and cleared his head, banishing the ghostly hallucination. He looked down again. He saw only bones and rock…but barely. As the fog lifted off his mind, he realized it really was hard to tell what was down there. The Pit was deep and covered in shadow, and it was only his intimate knowledge of this place that gave him any insight at all as to what truly lay at the bottom. </p><p>He knew. He knew there were so many of them down there…</p><p>He knew because he had put them all there. He had butchered each and every one and carried them tenderly to the Pit when the dark work was done. He would say a final prayer for himself and his victim, then toss them into The Pit where they would rot, and be consumed by the earth.</p><p>Jacob didn’t know why he killed or what it was that compelled him to take that first bloody step three years ago that transformed him into a predator. But the act itself was so natural; so easy to do and of course, his victims could never resist. Children were his only prey, easy to lure and simple to slaughter.</p><p>The euphoria that overcame him while he hunted was eerie. It transformed him from a twenty-six year old loser who still worked at the same convenience store he worked at in high school into a feral creature; a monster that hunted the most innocent of prey. </p><p>When the need to kill took him, it did so swiftly and completely. It overwhelmed him. Past Sins Page 3 Michael Natale</p><p>During these homicidal periods, the memories of the specific acts of murder eluded him. Sometimes he wondered if that was a defensive reflex of his subconscious mind protecting him. Perhaps that part of his brain shielded him from the inevitable confrontation with another, more dormant part that still clung to a lingering shred of morality.</p><p>Jacob never tried to figure it out -- he was happy not to be tortured by guilt.</p><p>The one thing he always remembered, however, was regaining his senses standing on the very edge of The Pit. Each time it had been the same. He would something akin to alert consciousness cradling the bodies – or what was left of them - in blankets or sealed up in trash bags. </p><p>This kept them from dripping any evidence onto the thirsty ground, and for that, he was grateful. Evidently, the dangerous part of his personality was practical as well as cunning.</p><p>Still - if the authorities ever thought to look in the mountains for the children, a trail of the blood of his victims would easily be picked up by dogs -- even weeks later. </p><p>Fortunately for Jacob, The Pit was nestled deep within the mountains, well off of the trails that even the most seasoned hikers and park rangers followed. </p><p>It was a small circular amphitheater, some forty or fifty feet across and at least that deep. The walls were free of jutting stone, eerily smooth. Somehow, the entire area had been sculpted out of the very rock as if by a purposeful hand. </p><p>As he stared into The Pit, Jacob wondered at the perfectly circular walls...they seemed too spherical to be natural... Past Sins Page 4 Michael Natale</p><p>In odd contrast, jagged shards of larger boulders littered the entire floor, lingering like the pulled teeth of some colossal beast. Dark smears and splatters painted the rocks and the floor of The Pit in deep scarlet, hazel and rich, awful ambers of every hue. </p><p>The moss that grew at the bottom of The Pit was the color of mud, with a few patches of ochre fighting its way to the top of the strange lichen.</p><p>The instant Jacob had first seen the place, he knew that this was a comforting place. It was a place where he would come when he was in trouble. The sense of absolution and belonging that radiated from The Pit made him feel as if he were master of his own small piece of the universe, and no laws or police or even FBI agents could enter this sanctuary.</p><p>It was like Superman’s Fortress of Solitude, only littered with the bones of murdered children. </p><p>The very first time he had killed, he had panicked and ran to this spot - not past it, not near it, but to it - as if he was drawn to it by some mystical compass that reached into his soul and pulled him unerringly into the mountains. </p><p>Running almost blind in the darkness of that first night - it had been so very black</p><p>- he cradled the twisted corpse in his hands, clutching it in terrifying desperation. </p><p>Frantic, he searched for some place to dispose of his first victim, and as if an answer to his unspoken prayer, The Pit was simply there. Waiting for him. </p><p>He felt a surge of adrenalin burn through his body as if a river of lighter fluid had replaced his blood. The nostalgic sensation, that wonderful ecstasy of that first kill; the moon looking down on him in approval, The Pit yawning below… Past Sins Page 5 Michael Natale</p><p>He stood on the edge, a dark and mighty God, surveying his work. And he saw that it was good. The rush was brief though, as if The Pit itself were a dealer, dispensing the high knowing that it would flash and fade and leave its customer begging desperately for more.</p><p>Then, Jacob came down. The adrenaline was gone; and the moon seemed a baleful eye regarding him with the same stern gaze a parent gives a child when they’ve been caught in a lie. It was like Kryptonite bullets rained down upon him, here in his</p><p>Fortress of Solitude.</p><p>Every shred of morality; every pearl of parental wisdom that his mother and father had so desperately tried to imbue into their son slapped that other part of his brain forcefully awake.</p><p>Guilt suddenly flooded over him, crashing down around his body like a thousand hands pressing him into the dirt, holding him still so that God himself could reach down from Heaven with his enormous, planet sized thumb and just squash until he went</p><p>SPLAT!</p><p>That same omniscient, invisible hand grabbed his face between God-sized thumb and forefinger and forced his head up. Forced him to look down into The Pit. </p><p>This guilt; this morality that flowed in his veins like a traitorous river of molten metal; this horrible, awful feeling he had when he looked at the skeletons of the children he had killed permeated his very soul and very nearly made him drop his bundle and flee.</p><p>But he did not. Past Sins Page 6 Michael Natale</p><p>To label it remorse would be inaccurate; yet to call it curiosity would be rude. It was more a deep synergy he had with the guilt instinct and its inevitable appearance that allowed him to continue to kill yet somehow not remember the act itself.</p><p>Jacob believed it a reflex. But then, he had killed so often that his crimes didn't even concern him anymore when it was all said and done. He separated himself from his feelings whenever necessary - he could shut them off like a switch. </p><p>He attributed that ability to a conditioned response placed in his heart by his mother. His mother had always used guilt as a tool and a weapon, and like a good son,</p><p>Jacob had learned to respond to it well.</p><p>Feeling satisfied at his own insightful rationalization of the situation, he shrugged off the large hiking pack from his back and placed it on the ground gently. Opening the aged leather straps carefully, he took a deep breath. The stench hit his nostrils like a fist, causing him to rear back, his eyes watering. </p><p>The knotty, cheesy mess of flesh and blood within the pack made him wretch and step away, breathing heavily. The smell had permeated the pack. </p><p>Jacob’s heart sank as he thought of the hours of washing it would take to rid itself of the smell of the young boy’s blood. It would never completely come out, but part of him wanted that. Like a good wok, the pack needed seasoning and that meant that some of what soaked into the material of the pack would always be there. </p><p>That made him feel like a God. It gave him newfound energy and resolve.</p><p>Tenderly, he withdrew the pile of meat that used to be Craig Anderson, the six and a half year old boy that lived the next town over. The small blonde haired boy so loved the candy apples Jacob had bought for him at the carnival. Past Sins Page 7 Michael Natale</p><p>In this age of parenting by convenience, it wasn’t hard to lure the boy away from his exhausted parents. Jacob could see nothing but apathy in their dull, disillusioned eyes; the boy was a pain in their ass. He was an inconvenience that the dual-income,</p><p>BMW driving motherfuckers had never planned on; a disruption to formerly exciting lives. Coming to the carnival, Jacob guessed, was more a way for the parents to get a break from being parents and let the amusement rides and carnival games entertain the little shit for a while.</p><p>The devious, calculating part of Jacob bought two fire engine red candy apples, and set off after the family. The fairgrounds were large, and it had been a Saturday night.</p><p>The grounds were a spider’s web of people that night. The local fire department was putting on a demonstration that involved a false house constructed of plywood that had painted flames all along the windows. They had run a hose from a nearby hydrant and were allowing the kids a turn and holding it while they sprayed the ‘flames’.</p><p>The line was incredibly long. Craig’s parents scowled and rolled their eyes, but relented to the boy’s shrieks of excitement at having a turn at the hose. They got in line, and never bothered to look back once.</p><p>Jacob had the boy in his car inside of fifteen minutes. </p><p>He remembered just then that he had won something for the boy on the way to the parking lot. He turned the backpack over and lifted open the front flap. He withdrew a small stuffed elephant. It was bright blue with pink thread, and its nose was sewn on crooked.</p><p>It was covered with smatterings of Craig's blood. Past Sins Page 8 Michael Natale</p><p>He placed it on the rancid jumble of bone and flesh at his feet. Jacob looked down into the shadowy depths of The Pit. Bones of others he had taken were barely distinguishable in the fading light. </p><p>He was not surprised. He hadn't come here for almost two months, and there were plenty of animals in these woods that would gladly devour a fresh meal of flesh and blood, regardless of the source or how it had gotten here. It had not occurred to him before that getting into The Pit would be easy for such would-be carnivores. </p><p>Getting out would present a bigger problem. He frowned.</p><p>A sudden stab of guilt caused him to shudder as he pictured the vultures plucking</p><p>Craig's remaining eye out of his head and bringing the dripping ball of jelly back to feed its young. </p><p>Would it make them sick, he wondered?</p><p>Pushing these thoughts out of his head quickly, he picked up his backpack, closing it and strapping it to his back. Jacob then bent and retrieved the blue elephant from where it lay atop the entrails.</p><p>He pushed the remains into The Pit with the toe of his boot, tossed the blue elephant in after it, and walked away.</p><p>THREE MONTHS LATER</p><p>Jacob awoke to the sound of some loud mouthed Australian man screaming about a cleaning agent and how it was made from a combination of avocado pulp and lemons.</p><p>As Jacob struggled to focus on what he was seeing and hearing, the fat Australian wiped Past Sins Page 9 Michael Natale a greasy stovetop clean, and the audience gasped and applauded as if he had just pulled a spider monkey out of his ass.</p><p>The clamor aggravated him, and he fumbled for the remote next to him. He shut the TV off, and looked at the clock. It was nearly four A.M. and still, he hadn't gone to his bed.</p><p>He had fallen asleep in the recliner again watching a Science Fiction movie on late-night cable.</p><p>Fifty-two dollars a month for this shit, he thought. </p><p>Slowly, he pulled himself to his feet, and checked his calendar. The days had been crossed off in red marker, to help him keep track of his work schedule. He saw that today was now Thursday the 22nd of December. A small red W was printed in the upper left hand corner of the square, and he cursed aloud as he realized he had to be at the convenience store by 6 a.m. He had wished he had gone to bed earlier, but it was too late now - he was already up. He had pulled all-nighters before, its not like it was going to negatively impact his performance at the Circle K.</p><p>He grabbed a quick shower and shaved the three days growth of beard he had on his face and watched the early news until ten after six. </p><p>He knew he was late, but didn't care. The Circle K wouldn’t be wiped off the face of the planet if he was a few minutes late. Or, if it was, then he’d have the day off anyway. Might as well milk it a little.</p><p>Fifteen minutes later, he was pulling into his spot in the Circle K parking lot.</p><p>There were more cars than usual here today, and he grumbled to himself how the rush was starting early. Past Sins Page 10 Michael Natale</p><p>Usually it wasn’t until seven or so when the car phone toting-voice-mail-using-</p><p>American-Idol-watching-scumbags came in for their morning fix of coffee and a copy of the Wall Street Journal. It was the one paper the small store carried besides the local rag, and it cracked Jacob up that way out here in the middle of East Bumfuck Egypt, people read the Wall Street Journal as if it mattered to their pathetic, shitty little lives.</p><p>Glancing into the store, he saw only Al, the man he was supposed to have replaced ten minutes ago. Curious, he parked and locked his car. As he reached for the door handle, he heard doors slamming behind him, and suddenly four men in trench coats were upon him, swearing at him, and slamming him up against the building. </p><p>Something in his mind fought through the crippling fear he felt in his chest and he heard one of them begin to read him his rights.</p><p>"What?" was his only response. "What's going on?"</p><p>"That's right, asshole," one of the men spat through clenched teeth, "we found your little burial site in the mountains. We've been waiting for you to do something this stupid for a long, long time! Your fingerprints were all over that kid!”</p><p>Another man stepped up and got right in his face. “We’ve got an eyewitness that places you with Craig Anderson the day he disappeared. Some carnival flunky who remembered the kid and the freak that was with him.”</p><p>ONE MONTH LATER Past Sins Page 11 Michael Natale</p><p>By the time the trial came, the media had turned the whole case into a circus. Current</p><p>Affair, Entertainment Tonight, CNN, Geraldo...they were all doing spots on Jacob Crane.</p><p>None of them interviewed him, of course. They didn’t have to. The police and FBI had done a thorough job of coloring the public’s view of Jacob, and the presence of the tabloid reporters and the genuine journalists was yet another ploy the police had used against him.</p><p>There were constant updates on the news, every newspaper had his photo splattered across the front page. The Channel 3 Graphics Department had come up with a stylized logo of a silhouetted man standing at the edge of a cliff. Soon all the networks were using it as a prelude to the daily update on the case. </p><p>An unbiased jury was nearly impossible to find. Nearly everyone in the country had heard of the killings, and the bizarre Pit that they had been concealed in. </p><p>To make matters worse, his attorney was advising him to plead guilty to Craig</p><p>Anderson's murder, but innocent to all other counts. Apparently, the other remains had been sitting in the weather for too long to connect him with the murders beyond a shadow of a doubt.</p><p>Later, it occurred to Jacob that his attorney must have cut a private deal with the</p><p>Prosecutor to avoid an outright loss in court.</p><p>The trial was the absolute personification of the American justice system. He had no case, pleaded guilty by reason of Insanity in the case of Craig Anderson, and was sentenced to twenty years in prison, out in eight if he behaved himself. Past Sins Page 12 Michael Natale</p><p>The prosecution went home that day a hero, the defense less of one, but still not a loser. And, more importantly, the defense attorney had added another case to his roster -- one step closer to finishing his mandatory tenure. </p><p>The judge slept that night peacefully knowing that he had put a man who had killed so many children behind bars.</p><p>A man like Crane would never make parole, that’s what the judge thought. The media was thrilled with the prospect of plastering snippets and sound-bytes of the trial all over the airwaves. Their ratings had never been better -- not since the OJ trial did the news programs have such sensationalized violence to drive ad revenues and ratings through the ceiling.</p><p>Jacob allowed himself a slight smile as he left the courtroom, knowing that by week’s end, the country would turn its attention back to the sensationalized media looking for the next big case to occupy their dreary lives. And in eight years – well, it was a certainty that by then, no one would even remember Jacob Crane, or The Pit of bodies hidden in the mountains.</p><p>EIGHT YEARS LATER</p><p>True to his prediction, the world did forget Jacob Crane. The 911 attacks and the subsequent “War on Terror” captured the world’s attention far more effectively than any of the fucked up shit he had ever done. Past Sins Page 13 Michael Natale</p><p>So much so in fact, exactly eight years from the day he entered prison, Jacob was</p><p>“Fit To Re-Enter Society”. The Parole Board mandated that he report to a Parole Officer once per week and visit a therapist twice a month. He also could not leave the state or country until his probation ran out.</p><p>He had no intentions of leaving.</p><p>When he was first arrested, Jacob had made arrangements with his brother Tom to have his belongings put in storage - a contingency plan in the "unlikely" event that he actually went to prison. His younger brother, always trusting him and believing him innocent, had even paid for the unit out of his own money.</p><p>The Hide-A-Way Storage Facility was located in a small town built in the shadows of the looming, cloud tipped mountains where Craig Anderson and so many others had met their final resting place. As he approached the small office of the facility, he paused and glanced up towards the snow covered mountains, as if hearing the call of an old friend...or a lover, even.</p><p>He had business to take care of here before he could return to The Pit one last time. It was difficult to turn away from the mountains, but he did it. He entered the building, relieved that the heat was turned up to keep out the chill of the winter air. A dark haired woman in her mid-twenties was busy behind the desk, her hands a blur on the keyboard of a computer.</p><p>Now came the real trial - how would this young, beautiful woman react to him?</p><p>Eight years ago, his face was all over television, everyone in the country knew about</p><p>Jacob Crane, Child Killer. Past Sins Page 14 Michael Natale</p><p>He had been hoping that he wouldn't be recognized by anyone in town, and was satisfied as she smiled brightly at him, and punched in his account number on the computer. When it came up, she disappeared into a back room and Jacob began to sweat.</p><p>Did she recognize him? What was she doing -- was she calling the police -- or even worse -- the media? His fears were quelled as she emerged -- still smiling -- with a small silver card and handed him his passkey. </p><p>“All set. Merry Christmas, Mr. Crane. Thank you very much.” </p><p>"Merry Christmas to you too, Miss." Jacob returned politely.</p><p>Truth was, people had forgotten about him a few short months after he was "safe" behind bars. In the mind of the public, it was over. The threat to their perfect little world was gone, taken away by the United States Legal System of Crime and Punishment. </p><p>Some other media event had taken his place, and he became part of the past, nothing more than a five second soundbyte on the radio the day he was released.</p><p>Now, thanks to that very same system that had locked him up, he was here, wishing a beautiful young girl a Merry Christmas a short ten miles from the spot where he had dumped Greg Anderson's mutilated body.</p><p>You gotta love America, Jacob thought.</p><p>Jacob exited the building into the lobby, and took the elevator to the second floor.</p><p>During his eight years in prison, he had felt the rush of adrenaline and the frenzy would overcome him as it had before, but it was somehow...weaker, and he was able to resist it.</p><p>Killing - even in prison - would only prolong his entry back into society and his return to The Pit. Past Sins Page 15 Michael Natale</p><p>And he knew that he would have to go to The Pit one more time - as both beginning and ending. It would be a parting of ways between two old companions. Then, he would leave this state and start over somewhere else. </p><p>After all, if they didn't remember him in his home town, people in other states would be especially uninterested. A new town, new people, a new job...the changes would do him good.</p><p>Jacob stopped at storage facility 45, and slipped the credit-card like key into the waiting electronic lock. The computer chimed happily and unlocked the door with a loud</p><p>"click."</p><p>Groping around the corner with his hand, he found the light switch and turned it on. All of his things, carefully packed by his faithful brother, were here, waiting for him.</p><p>He took a deep breath, trying to filter out the heavy cardboard smell that drifted out from the boxes in the place. </p><p>What was left smelled like his apartment, and he smiled at the memories the scents brought to the surface. It took him less than fifteen minutes to find the box marked</p><p>"Bedroom Closet" and he tore the tape off the box savagely.</p><p>Inside the box, a brown leather backpack stained with dark blotches was wrapped in an old military jacket. Carefully, he unwrapped the thing, and caressed it as he would an old lover.</p><p>From the same box he withdrew a wool sweater, hiking boots, and thick leather gloves. He exchanged the black dress shoes he was wearing for the boots, put the sweater on over his shirt, and took the jacket. Picking the backpack up, he stuffed the gloves into Past Sins Page 16 Michael Natale one of the jacket's large pockets, and flicked the backpack onto his shoulder in one deft motion.</p><p>Jacob had always been careful about cleaning the backpack after his sojourns into the mountains. The stains on it's surface and inner pockets looked to the naked eye like age or perhaps dirt. The FBI had torn through his apartment like a tornado, his brother</p><p>Tom had said, but they only took some samples of his clothes to test for hair follicles or some bullshit like that.</p><p>Whatever the reason, Jacob was glad they didn't take the backpack. God, it feels good to wear it again! He flipped the light switch off as he left the room, shutting the door. He ran the card through the slot again, and pushed the LOCK button. Ten seconds later, the computer responded happily with a second "click" followed by a single chime.</p><p>Upon returning his passkey to the office, he shoved the receipt into his pocket and absently reminded himself to go see Tom afterwards to get some cash to live on. His brother had trusted him all those years -- even after Jacob had pleaded guilty. Tom had always said that help was only a phone call away. Tom had always believed in his brother, knowing that Jacob was sick, and offered to go with him to the psychiatric treatments that had been mandated by the State Parole Board.</p><p>What Jacob had in mind, however, was a generous helping of fresh cash.</p><p>After...after! Always after! a voice whimpered in his head desperately.</p><p>Jacob dismissed the nagging voice, attributing it to his longing to return to what he now considered the source of his problems. He envisioned what would happen as he approached The Pit for the last time. Past Sins Page 17 Michael Natale</p><p>Jacob believed that a sort of vindication would occur upon looking at The Pit for what it really was - simply a hole in the ground. Empty of bodies and the damning evidence that he could not deny was his handiwork, he knew that it would lose its malevolent luster, its portentous spirit would be gone, and he would be free.</p><p>But, the voice that spurred him back into the mountains was not his after all, and, truth be told, Jacob was far from free.</p><p>THE PIT</p><p>It waited.</p><p>Deep within the cavernous tunnels carved into the walls of The Pit, It waited.</p><p>Eight long years It had hungered without the sweetmeats of human flesh to feast upon.</p><p>Over those years, deprived of Its favorite meals, It had grown more shriveled than before</p><p>The Upright Man had first come and tossed food down to it. Though It could still feel</p><p>The Upright Man's presence in It's mind, It knew that he could not bring food...not yet.</p><p>So, It lurked in profound darkness, out of the sunlight's scalding gaze within the walls of The Pit, where It had always waited. For centuries, It had been content to gorge itself until swollen upon the animals that fell prey to the sheer ledges and razor sharp rocks that lined the bottom of Its lair.</p><p>Until, that is, The Upright Man Who Walked On Two Legs came and gave It its first taste of human flesh in over four centuries.</p><p>Hunting the simple settlers of four hundred years ago was easy work, and It had fed itself well during those years. But as time passed, Man became more cunning, and his Past Sins Page 18 Michael Natale propensity for creating weapons of destruction exceeded his ability to wield them with any amount of restraint.</p><p>It knew that It would have to move; It could no longer hunt freely among the tribes of Man. Doing so had simply become too dangerous.</p><p>It remembered with an almost human fondness the legends the settlers used to tell about It. Some believed, most had not. What they believed mattered little when It crawled out of the mountainous lair that hid the horrors of the world from the unsuspecting eyes of the foolish. They were all simply food to It, and what they believed or did not believe had never stopped It from feeding.</p><p>It contented itself with recalling the first time The Upright Man had come, panting and sobbing to the edge of The Pit, a sweet smelling, dripping bundle cradled in his arms.</p><p>It had crept out of its lair, but the day had surrendered to the night hours ago, and the man had not seen him among the many layered shadows of The Pit. The Upright Man had tossed the bundle into The Pit and ran, whimpering into the night.</p><p>It had waited until It could hear the Upright Man no more, and scurried with all the rapidity its ten spiny legs would carry its gelatinous, bloated body towards the package. When It moved completely out of the hole it spent the daylight hours in, it nearly filled The Pit, its bamboo like legs reaching halfway to the top edge of The Pit.</p><p>Each leg made a hollow clicking noise as the spiny protrusions scraped against the rocks that were scattered across the floor of The Pit. Itís body was translucent, the pus filled membrane appearing thin and fragile, yet it never tore as it caught on the jagged rocks.</p><p>Clicking its mandibles in delight, It had used a thin translucent proboscis to clean each rock of every sticky-sweet drop of the child's blood, the creamy pus like liquid that Past Sins Page 19 Michael Natale composed It changing to a slight pink. Then, without hesitation, It split the delicate skull, already fractured, with its powerful mandibles and devoured the meaty prize from within the shattered bone. The clear mandibles appeared to be made of the same gelatinous substance as the body was, but they were powerful and broke through bone as easily as the wind passing through the trees.</p><p>Every bit of the remains were picked meticulously clean by the enormous mandibles. It sat back on six of its legs and steadied itself on the two in the center, the remaining forward legs holding the broken skull before its proboscis as it slurped greedily. If someone had been watching from above, it would appear almost comical that something as huge as It was could perform such a delicate feat.</p><p>When It had finished that first delightful meal, from that very time, It knew that</p><p>The Upright Man must bring more. It had to feed. No longer would the blood and flesh of careless animals who wandered too close to the edge of its lair suffice.</p><p>After all, It was far older than Man, and had dwelled in this forest for centuries before humans began even walking erect. A titan from a race of creatures long since dead, It was the last of its kind. So long ago, It had been content hunting among the Cities of Man. But It knew that it was far too late to begin The Hunt again in the same fashion.</p><p>Man used to be superstitious, used to frighten easily. Not so anymore. They would seek It out and destroy It, as they did with all things they did not understand.</p><p>But It knew that It had to feed. It would not be denied its right by something lower than itself on the food chain.</p><p>Calling The Upright Man back after the First Time took some effort. It had not Past Sins Page 20 Michael Natale</p><p> influenced a Human with its mind in centuries, and It found that these Men's brains were more complex than their 14th century counterparts. But, the man It sought was weak willed and was not much more mentally impressive than the children he killed at the behest of the creature. The man was soon bringing it a new meal every few months.</p><p>So, when the meals stopped, It had waited during the years that The Upright Man was gone. It waited until It could feel the layers of depression in The Upright Man's mind be burned away by freedom. Then, It knew that regaining control was inevitable. The</p><p>Upright Man would return, and when he did, It would feed.</p><p>Jacob stopped halfway to The Pit to catch his breath. Now he wished he had stopped at the store and gotten some candy bars or fruit juice or anything to revitalize himself. He was out of shape from eight years of sitting in a cell. The exercise yard was known among those "inside" to be a place to commit murder, and since just about everyone in prison had wanted him dead, Jacob avoided leaving his cell unless absolutely necessary.</p><p>He laughed to himself that the rapists and killers would take such offense by a child-killer amongst their ranks.</p><p>Got the last laugh, though, Jacob thought, panting hard.</p><p>The Pit was still only a short distance away, he had made the toughest leg of the journey already. He wanted desperately to make it there before night fell, so he could gaze upon the rocks of The Pit without the ever-present shadows there to add to the Past Sins Page 21 Michael Natale mystery. He wanted to end the nightmare his life had become and put The Pit and the things he had put into it behind him.</p><p>It shrugged these alien sentiments off and tightened its grip on The Upright Man's mind.</p><p>It knew he was close, It could feel the eagerness in The Upright Man's mind. It knew instantly that the Upright Man came empty handed this night, but It was confident that once he reached The Pit, he could be "convinced" to continue to service It.</p><p>Clicking its broad mandibles in a slow, steady rhythm, It anticipated The Upright</p><p>Man's coming eagerly, the twelve small specks of azure that were its eyes sparkling in the orange light of the setting sun.</p><p>Jacob looked at the rusty orb in the sky, sinking lower on the horizon, and felt a sudden urgency to his actions. Instantly, his movements felt like they were in slow motion, like he was dragging his feet. What if I'm too late? he thought. What if it gets dark before I get there? What will I see then, when I gaze into The Pit? These thoughts raced through his mind and pumped adrenaline into his body. He sprinted off with renewed energy, not even questioning its source.</p><p>Finally, he was there, standing at the edge of The Pit like he had so many times before. Nearly breathless and completely exhausted from the effort, he bent over and put his hands on his knees, breathing the rigid December air too quickly into his lungs. They grew numb, and began to ache. Past Sins Page 22 Michael Natale</p><p>Below him, in the folds of the shadows, something began to stir. It writhed out of a fissure in the wall of The Pit. It slithered over the rocks, moving extraordinarily fast for something of its impressive mass. Soundlessly, its form disappeared almost instantly behind a large boulder, the stilt-like legs flattening against the floor of The Pit. Still, the steady click-click-clicking of its mandibles could barely be heard among the silence of the winter night. No other animals could be heard in this area, even their primitive instincts told them to stay clear of The Pit -- especially tonight.</p><p>When It was sure The Upright Man was still doubled over, it crept slowly back over the boulder, one thin, hairy leg at a time. The rest of the body pulled itself over quickly. It crept towards the far wall of The Pit, closer to the Upright Man.</p><p>Suddenly, out of the night air, a faltering voice cried, "You lousy son-of-a-bitch, I knew you'd come here! Turn around slow!"</p><p>Jacob whirled at the unexpected stranger, while below, the creature scurried back to its original hiding place in the shadows, unseen and unheard by the two men above.</p><p>Perhaps It would feast this night after all...</p><p>"What?" Jacob gasped, still out of breath. Then he recognized the man, his face a mask of anguish and fury, a double barrelled shotgun in his hand. It was Craig</p><p>Anderson's father.</p><p>"I knew you'd come back here, you bastard! The FBI told me to stay away from you, but I don't care what happens to me now!" The man pumped the shotgun with practiced ease, loading it. "I watched and waited for the parole board to release you. God</p><p>I begged for you to be released! And praise Jesus, my prayers are answered!"</p><p>Jacob took a step backward, stammering, "I didn't...you..." Past Sins Page 23 Michael Natale</p><p>"Don't talk boy," the man said, shaking his head, "I don't want to hear it." Mark</p><p>Anderson's hands were shaking, it was clear he was nervous. He lifted the gun, aiming the twin barrels right at Jacob's chest. Jacob looked over his shoulder, feeling his footing slip, and caught sight of something moving - a shadow within a shadow.</p><p>For an instant, It brushed his mind, and he could feel the frenzy begin. But it was too late. Anderson, feeling his quarry was about to slip into The Pit, pulled the triggers of the shotgun, pumping a full shot right into his son’s killer.</p><p>The shot echoed throughout the otherwise silent forest, and Jacob flew over the edge. The man stepped up cautiously to the edge of The Pit. He saw the corpse of his son's murderer sprawled atop some rocks on the floor of The Pit. His heart sank as he recalled how his son’s body had been so callously tossed into The Pit, his body impaled on a large jagged rock. Jacob had been lucky when he had fallen, and had not struck any of the sharper rocks.</p><p>Too bad, the man thought. The shotgun blast had taken him in the shoulder, and a rich, red stain was already coloring a portion of the snow beneath him. Jacob twitched a bit, still alive.</p><p>Nervous, Mark Anderson looked around, almost as if to see whether anyone had seen him shoot Jacob Crane, though he knew he was alone. He raised the shotgun to finish Jacob off, but lowered it slowly. It would be better to let the son-of-a-bitch die here, alone. The Pit was so deep within the mountains that he would either bleed or freeze to death long before anyone found him, even if one of the Rangers did hear the shot. Past Sins Page 24 Michael Natale</p><p>Satisfied, Mark Anderson turned and slung the shotgun over his shoulder, and headed back towards the trail.</p><p>Below, in The Pit, the sweet smell of fresh blood brought It out of the fissure, no longer caring whether It could be seen or not. Its hunger was too great...it was almost on the verge of frenzy. Its prey was helpless, and could not escape. It could feel that awful truth ringing in the Upright Man's mind.</p><p>Jacob, sensing something sinister nearby, flicked his eyes open and saw the creature rise to its full bulk, the thorny legs stepping down heavily on either side of his head. It approached with Its mandibles click-click-clicking hungrily.</p><p>Jacob screamed and tried to back away from It, but his broken body betrayed him, and his scream was nothing more than a mouthful of blood.</p><p>The creature’s bulk heaved itself gracefully atop Jacob's writhing form, the mandibles slowly closing about his skull, as if measuring it. Each mandible drew a tiny drop of blood from Jacob's head as he managed to scream and begged Mark Anderson to come back...anything to stop this insane nightmare!</p><p>His cries fell on deaf ears as Mark continued down the trail, smiling and oblivious to the events unfolding in The Pit. A loud crack came from behind him, and Jacob</p><p>Crane's screaming stopped. </p><p>Mark stopped, considered for a brief moment to go see what happened, then decided against it. Past Sins Page 25 Michael Natale</p><p>It devoured Jacob's corpse in a matter of minutes, satisfying eight years of nearly unbearable hunger. Soon, all that was left was bones, still reddened and with unimportant pieces of meat hanging from them. After It was satiated, It withdrew to the suffocating familiarity of its lair and the tunnels within.</p><p>It left Jacob's remains there, his broken skull still containing remnants of his brain. It would continue to feed on the pickings until the next meal came. Slowly, Its mind reached out into the City of Man, looking for the mind of the benefactor of this evening's meal.</p><p>Eventually, It found the now familiar throbbing of Mark Anderson's mind, sleeping and unaware of the intruder into his evening dreams. Slowly, it began Its work on the man’s unsuspecting mind. The man had killed, after all, so control would be effortless once contact was established. He knew the man’s mind could not resist the urgings It would plant to repeat what he had already done once.</p><p>All the better, It thought. Food must come again soon, and this man had proved himself as good a provider as the first...</p><p>###</p>