I once lived in a town. It was an odd little town. It was around the outskirts of Chicago but surrounded by trees. You could see the buildings outlined behind the skyline of trees but the bustle of cars from the nearby big city didn’t disrupt the quiet chatter of woodland creatures and croaking of frogs by the ponds. It was almost as if that little town existed in its own little universe. The universe of Mooreland.
I was new to the city. My daughter, Jessica, and I had just fled the hands of my ex-husband. The story of him should be saved for a different time. This story isn’t about me, or my daughter Jessica, or any of the wonderful friends I found in Mooreland, but it is a story of Mooreland itself.
Mooreland made you feel like you had been transported back in time. It was a time when your mailman knew you by name, a time when the teacher cared about the student’s education, not just their 4.0. It was a time when everything was much simpler.
My daughter walked three blocks to get to the small elementary school. Jessica was young, but very bright for her age; she was at the very top of her fourth grade class! She had never given me any trouble and I had no reason not to believe her, so of course I went straight to the teacher when she told me she was being bullied.
She tugged at my arm the entire way to the school, “You don’t understand, mommy!” She pleaded, oh how I wish I had listened, “Please don’t tell the school!”
“I must tell them.” I got down on one knee and pushed my nose against her’s, “Mommy will make sure no one ever hurts you again, okay?” I gave her a peck on the nose before entering the school.
After speaking with her teacher, the woman turned to my daughter, “Who is it?” She asked, “Who is bothering you?”
“It doesn’t go to this school.” Jessica mumbled as she stared at her feet.
Thinking back, my daughter calling the person who had been bullying her ‘it’ now seems rather odd. At the time I ignored it and pushed on, “Then where does this person live?”
“In the forest.”
I blinked rapidly, trying to get the black dot that was taking over my sight out of my eye, after a second it disappeared. “Are you alright?” Her teacher asked me and I nodded, saying I was fine.
Jessica stood abruptly and turned away from us. “Mommy…can we leave now?” I said nothing. “Mommy…we need to leave now.” My daughter’s voice had dropped an octave and I stood up. “Leave.” Her voice was now as deep as an adult man. As she spoke I heard what sounded like nails scraping across the window behind us. I had that strange black spot begin to grow in my sight again, but this time I realized it wasn’t just a spot in my sight, there was actually something there. A dark shadow crawling closer across the ceiling until it was directly above Jessica.
The thing above her opened up what seemed to be a mouth. I stood frozen in fear at what I was seeing. Out of no where, Jessica’s teacher pushed me out of the way and lunged at Jessica, knocking her out from beneath the black thing.
Her teacher stood directly below it, her arms raised above her, “Oh god of Moore!” She called, “Please grant me eternal life!” She fell to her knees and did what looked to be a Hail Mary but it was different. Somehow it seemed darker and more sinister. The woman used one of her sharp nails to cut a long line in the underside of her arm.
The blood that flowed from the wound wasn’t normal blood. Instead of falling to the ground, it rose high above her until it hit the black thing, the god of Moore, and dissolved into its skin. The teacher held her arm above her as if it were an offering. “Please, oh god of Moore, let me be a servant of your power! You have revealed yourself to me and I am here for you!” I watched the woman cut deeper into herself as my daughter slowly crawled across the room to cuddle against me. We didn’t dare move once we were together. The teacher’s blood kept rising and rising until it seemed she couldn’t move any more. She fell over and the blood kept pouring out and almost reverse-water falling up to the god of Moore. When it was evident the woman could no longer be alive, the black creature crept back across the ceiling and out the window.
Undoubtedly, it slunk into the forest, unseen and unheard by anyone else.
Jessica and I stepped around the body cautiously, going straight to the police. When I started to explain to the sheriff what had happened, I found I couldn’t remember the woman’s name. I looked to Jessica for assistance, but she didn’t remember her own teacher’s name either.
“You are aware that the only fourth grade teacher is a male teacher, correct?” I looked at my daughter. “We don’t have a woman teacher for your daughter’s class.”
“Mine was a lady. She was a pretty lady with brown hair. She wore a lot of yellow. You don’t remember her?” Jessica asked as she looked up at the man, but it seemed that no one in Mooreland remembered the woman who had given her soul over to the god of Moore.
Or maybe the little town knew more than what it was leading on.

Credit To: HiddenHikari

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