The Legend Of Jack Hook

October 15th, 2010.
You could only drive on the dirt road, and then- only so far back in along the tree line before the ruts got so bad that it was no longer passable. Then, if you wanted to get back to the old deserted remains of Seger’s mill- you had to walk into the back woods some two miles on foot until you reached the Saddlehorn river. There wasn’t much left of the mill itself, most of the burnt out remains crumbled into ruin decades ago. There was part of a burnt out wall that still stood and the concrete floor was all that remained. There wasn’t much left at all, not much except for one enduring legend that- like the mill itself, would refuse to die. Its what would bring partying teenagers from every small town within 50 miles here every Halloween season, they would hike back into the woods from the dirt trail at Crows Crossing Road, they would bring beer, pot, and whatever else they could carry to take to one of the most isolated spots along the Saddlehorn river, and they would do it all simply to scare the wits out of each other. And year after year, each and every time someone would enter the woods in search of Seger’s Mill, no one ever realized that they were not alone. Until it was too late.

This time, there would be four, they thought that it would be enough. The sun was out when they entered the trail at the edge of the woods, there was a slight chill in the early afternoon air, and after all there were four of them, what could go wrong? But of course the last ones to try it- thought six would be a safe number and of course it wasn't. The last time someone was brave enough to test the legends at Seger’s Mill was almost three years ago, three kids ended up dead, one ended up in a mental hospital and two of them moved away. And through it all - no one ever actually figured out what happened. In spite of the warnings to steer clear of the Mill, it was inevitable that sooner or later someone would venture back into the area in search of cheap Halloween thrills. This particular group was being led along by 17 year old Mitch Weldon, he knew exactly where the ruins of the Mill were- having grew up in the area. And of course all present more than once had heard of the legends of Jack The Hook, it was almost 85 years ago when Jack Corrigan had his infamous accident where he lost his hand while working at Seger‘s Mill.

In 1925 it was never clear to the folks of the then still blossoming young township of Alderville, exactly how Jack Corrigan was seen to have a metal hook in place of his lost hand. There were never any records of any doctor performing such an operation, nor any that would lay claim to the deed. All that was known for certain was that Corrigan could be seen at odd hours of the night wandering the streets of Alderville with his new metal appendage wrapped in rags, muttering insane ramblings to himself. After several incidents- concerned citizens ran him out of town and he was never seen nor heard from in Alderville again. Some say he went back to the Mill where the accident took place and in a blind fit of rage one night he burnt it to the ground taking his own life and forever cursing the remains of it. In the 85 year period following, several incidents had occurred where hikers reported seeing a wild man with a metal hook for a hand roaming the woods and attacking anyone who ventured too close to Seeger’s Mill. All and all, there had been over 35 fatalities contributed to the Mill, only five of which the bodies of the victims had been discovered - horribly mutilated. The rest were never to be seen again.



They stood near the clearing at Seger’s Mill just before 4:30 PM, There was Mitch Weldon leading the way, he stopped just short of the edge of the clearing and looked back at Benny Frye, Cora Samuels and Cynthia Todd. Mitch was exactly one year older than the rest of them so they appointed him the leader, so when he turned to the rest of them to ask what they thought about going on - they found it a bit unsettling. Benny Frye stepped forward.
“You said to trust you Mitch- so that’s what we’re doing.” He looked back at the two girls.
They both nodded slowly.
“Yeah Mitch.. Lead the way.”
The small group of teenagers slowly moved towards the ruins of Seger’s Mill, and almost as if on cue the clouds began to roll in making the sky seem dark and ominous. They went to the center of the concrete floor of the Mill and sat down in a small circle. Each of them looking up in different directions as the sky continued to grow darker and darker. They hadn’t even been there for twenty five minutes when a noise caused Mitch Weldon to spin around sharply and look up at the top of the only remaining part of the structure. There at the top of the burnt wall sat three crows silently staring down at them.
“Holy shit!” Mitch exclaimed. “Those stupid birds scared the hell out of me.”
Cora Samuels slowly rose to her feet and walked towards the three birds.

They watched her almost transfixed as she moved toward the crows, slowly raising her hand to them, smiling, coaxing them closer. She turned to look back at her three companions before walking back to the circle and sitting back down.
“I think they’re beautiful. I’ve heard people say that the crows here are like guardians or something, you know- like a bridge between the spirit world and our world. They’re special. that’s why they won‘t fly away.”
Benny Frye cast her a strange look as he fumbled in his back pack before producing a clear plastic baggie half full of rolled marijuana cigarettes .
“I think we should smoke a joint, you know- to kind of take the edge off. We’re all a little jumpy right now.” He said.
His three companions happily agreed as he lit one and began to pass it around. He took the first toke and handed the joint to Mitch just as something at the edge of the trees caught his eye. his eyes quickly darted in several different directions at once, before quickly disregarding it as his over active imagination. Then Mitch saw it, and then Cora- and as the first raindrops began to fall, all four began to realize at the same time that perhaps this wasn’t a good place to be after all. Mitch slowly rose to his feet, he nervously looked back over his shoulder at Benny and the others.
“Okay - so maybe that was an animal of some kind.” He said.

Benny rose to his feet and moved to the edge of the concrete floor and peered into the dark woods, all at once the three crow’s began to raise a ruckus, they began cawing and flying around the Mill. He stopped to look up as they all returned to their perch at the top of the burnt wall. Now all three were staring right at him. He turned to face his three friends, his level of discomfort slowly began to rise. Cora Samuels rose to her feet and stood beside him.
“Oh geez.. They didn’t come here to protect us.” She said. “They came here to warn us.”
Now Mitch Weldon stood.
“Alright we had our Halloween chill for today, lets get the hell back to my truck before we scare ourselves straight into having an accident.”
Ignoring the crows, they all stood up and gathered themselves before heading back to the trail, and unknown to them- with the three birds in tow. They walked for another twenty minutes back into the woods before they heard the first echoes of running feet quickly coming up behind them. With Mitch in the lead, followed by the two girls and then Benny at the rear, they all stopped to look back just in time to see a shadow grab Benny by the foot dragging him back into the woods. He let out a shrill scream as Mitch and the two girls grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away from the shadowy figure, and Mitch Weldon felt his heart stop when he saw the metal hook dig into Benny’s flesh tearing his back open.



They frantically tried to free their friend as the first crow came through the trees followed by the other two, they swooped down into the shadows just before Mitch felt whatever it was - relinquish its grip on Benny. He pulled his friend back onto the trail and without another thought hoisted him up over his shoulder.
“Lets get the hell back to my truck! MOVE IT!” He yelled.
On a dead run they didn’t stop until they were out of the woods and back at the edge of the dirt road. Mitch Weldon put Benny in the back with the two girls, he got in the cab as the shadow emerged from the edge of the trees.
“Mitch! It followed us! Hurry get us out of here!” Cora yelled.
Thirty feet from Crows Crossing Road, Cynthia Todd got a signal on her cell phone and called 911, and told the operator that they were on their way back to Alderville with a severely wounded Teenager and that they should send an ambulance to meet them halfway. And once safely back on Crows Crossing Mitch Weldon hit the gas and never looked back. Seven miles outside of Alderville he flashed his lights at the Ambulance and pulled over, it turned around and came back towards the truck and stopped in front of it - seconds later followed by two county sheriff‘s vehicles.

The frightened teens recalled the entire tale to the sheriffs deputies as the paramedics tended to Benny Frye. In the end, Benny Frye would live to tell his cautionary tale to other teens hoping to tempt the angry spirit at Seger’s Mill. All four teens would survive and eventually recover from their harrowing ordeal. But on that late fall evening, as they watched the paramedics load Benny Frye into the ambulance, and as the officers told Mitch to meet them back at the sheriff’s office to make a formal statement. In the growing night, no one noticed the three crows silently watching from the edge of the tree’s. And as they closed the ambulance doors, and it pulled away followed by the sheriff’s cars, Mitch Weldon and the two girls got into the cab of his truck and calmed their nerves before following behind them. And through it all no one seemed to notice the long metallic slash mark across the face of the trucks tailgate as it pulled away. Above the hum of engines no one heard the metal hook fall onto the asphalt behind them and bounce to the side of the road. No one knew exactly how lucky the four teenagers were to survive or how close they actually came to death doorstep themselves. And so like any other day or night, the rain continues to fall, and the crows continue to stand watch because they know, there will be others to come. And other restless spirits to be tested. Here on Crows Crossing Road.

~Scratch.. A.B.T. Copyright © 2010~