Spectre, Colorado, 1956

        The family stood at the base of the tree, the tallest and oldest tree in the area.  The tree was long dead, though something kept it standing despite this.  The outer bark was long gone, wind and weather stripping the tree of all its outer protection.  This tree was the Heretic’s tree, and the townsfolk would be sure that the tree would never fall.  It kept the town of Spectre balanced, kept the trouble out. It had a purpose.

        The town could tell when it was time for a sacrifice, and that was when the bad of the outside world would creep in.  They would get more visitors, though the town rarely saw visitors at all.  When the outside world crept into Spectre, someone would have to pay the price.  The outsiders would have to be removed, of course, either chased out or taken care of.  The founder’s family would then decide who paid for the presence of the encroachers.

        The founder was a crazed man who had been driven by greed.  When the railroads had reached the Colorado Territory, the plans had been to cut through the prairie to head into the territories of Wyoming and Nebraska, though the area had no towns in place and no stops.  The founder, Stanley Spectre, took his life savings and rushed out to the prairie where he’d been assured the trains would pass by.  He would build a town, make the only stop from Denver City to the Northern border.  Spectre, Colorado would be the biggest town in the Colorado Territory in no time, the railroads being forced to stop there for any repairs or for a rest before moving on going North or South.  Spectre would be even bigger than Denver City, and Stanley would be the richest man in the surrounding territories easily.  

        Then the railroad tracks were moved, the plans never coming to fruition.  They would follow closer to Denver City and surrounding populated areas heading toward the Wyoming Territory to link up with the city of Cheyenne.  Instead of Spectre thriving, other areas more to the West did, leaving Stanley lost in the middle of nowhere.  He went mad, but those who had come with him were left to fend for themselves, with no real way to leave and try to return to civilization.  They would have to make due with where they had ended up, and a tradition of isolationism was born.

        The Spectre family remained, the town growing a reputation for being cultish, cut off from the world with its own set of values that those who came to the town were expected to follow or pay the price.  Many seeking solitude in the beautiful plains of Colorado would never be heard from again if they came across the town of Spectre, and after the Sheriff of the area disappeared while trying to get answers for families of the missing, no one bothered the town on the subject again.  

         The body dangled from the largest branch, the remnants of several other hanging ropes surrounding the one that held it, noose secured tightly.  Several people had met this fate, the price that had to be paid whenever the outside world tried to change Spectre.  The body swayed in the aftermath, though the woman had been dead for some time now. She, as the others before her, had accepted her fate after being chosen by the Spectre family to save the town.  They would leave her there for a week as a reminder of what meddling with the outside world would bring, then her body would be tossed to the coyotes to pick clean.  This death was both a privilege and a disgrace, as she had saved the town but also resembled corruption that existed outside of their borders.  The town would stay pure, no matter what the cost and no matter how many times this would have to be done.

Next Chapter: Chapter 1