Devil's Promenade
On August 14th, 2012, 26 year old Suzanne Gibson and her roommate, 25 year old Debbie DiCandeloro, set out to investigate reports of mysterious lights reported to be seen along a stretch of road known as “The Devil’s Promenade,” located about ten miles northeast of Miami, Oklahoma, near the Missouri border.
The following are transcripts of voice messages, phone calls and video recordings relating to their last known whereabouts.
[Voicemail #1. Voice of Suzanne Gibson.]
“Hi mom, it’s Suze. So Debbie and I are headed up to Miami to finally check out that Spook Light Road we’ve heard so much about. We just wanted to fill you in on our plans in case we run into car trouble or something, since we’ll be out in the country and who knows what kind of phone reception we’ll have. Debbie also filed a flight plan with Jimmy, but we figure the more we tell the better. Anyway, we’ll probably be there way past dark. We might end up just camping in the van and then head home in the morning. I’ll call you when we get back. Love you!”
[The camera looks out through a windshield at a busy expressway. It’s a sunny day. The time stamp reads 1:22 PM.]
Debbie DiCandeloro [speaking off camera]: So we’re finally doing this.
Suzanne Gibson [off camera]: Woo! Wait. What are we doing?
[The camera pans quickly to Suzanne, who is driving the empty cargo van.]
Debbie: You know, the spook lights. The whole point of this trip.
Suzanne: Right. I just thought you were doing some other thing with the camera. So we’re doing the spook lights! Woo!
Debbie: Woo! [Laughter] Okay, so, explain about the lights.
Suzanne: Well, up in the northeast corner of the state, close to the Kansas and Missouri borders, there’s this dirt road way out in the country, and they call it Spook Light Road. Supposedly people have been seeing strange lights on this road going all the way back to the 1800s, and nobody knows what they are.
Debbie [dramatic voice]: Until now.
Suzanne: [Laughs] Right. [dramatic voice] Come with us as we uncover the unsolved mystery of Spook Light Road.
[Laughter, unintelligible]
Suzanne: No, we’re probably not gonna solve the mystery. We’re just gonna see if the lights show up and if they’re as crazy as people say.
Debbie [turning camera on self]: It’s just an excuse for a road trip, really. ‘Cause we’re bored.
Suzanne: Right. ‘Cause I—
[Camera pans quickly back to Suzanne]
—just got laid off, and Debbie’s in between design projects.
Debbie: And we both really, really need a vacation.
Suzanne [laughing]: Yeah. A lame vacation, camping overnight in a van on a dirt road in Bum-fumble Oklahoma. Really, we’re that hard up.
Debbie: But there might be spooks! And lights! Or UFOs or ghosts or something.
Suzanne: Or some jerk kids running around the woods with flashlights.
Debbie: Either way, we’re on an adventure. And I already have to pee.
Suzanne: What? We’re not even out of Tulsa yet.
Debbie: I know, but I drank a ton of coffee this morning. Hey, there’s a Quick Trip!
Suzanne [sighing and rolling eyes]: Fine. But no more coffee. We’re not stopping again till Vinita.
Debbie [pointing the camera back at herself and whispering]: Oh yes, there will be more coffee.
[End of video]
[The camera zooms in on a flat tire.]
Debbie [off camera]: So . . . that happened.
Suzanne [off camera, voice distant]: We got a flat!
Debbie: Yep. [Camera zooms out and pans up to reveal a large, arched building spanning the width of the four-lane highway.] We made a pit-stop here at McD’s—
Suzanne [sounding closer]: Largest in the world!
Debbie: We stopped here at the world’s largest McDonald’s—is it still the world’s largest? I thought they built a bigger one in, like, Moscow or something.
[Camera pans to Suzanne, who is rolling a spare tire toward the flat.]
Suzanne: I don’t know. But it’s one of the biggest.
Debbie: Anyway, we came back out and found the front passenger tire completely flat. No idea how it got that way.
Suzanne: But it’s okay, ‘cause we can fix it.
Debbie: Yes we can! Well, Suze can. Because she is mighty and she has a dad who taught her how to fix a flat tire.
Suzanne [looking at camera]: Your dad didn’t teach you how to do this?
Debbie: My dad taught me how to call Triple-A.
Suzanne: I can teach you. It’s not that hard.
Debbie: That’s okay. I’m actually really good at calling Triple-A.
Suzanne [while she speaks, she positions the jack under the van and starts pumping]: Well, maybe you should watch anyway, just in case your phone doesn’t work one of these days.
Debbie: Do I hafta?
Suzanne: Put the camera down and hand me that lug wrench.
[The picture momentarily cuts out. When it returns, roughly 12 minutes have passed on the time stamp.]
Suzanne: Ta-daaa! [She holds both hands out like a game show assistant to indicate the new tire.]
Debbie: You know, it’s pretty bad-ass that you did that all by yourself.
Suzanne: I don’t know about bad-ass, but I definitely feel all competent and stuff.
Debbie: So, what do we do now?
Suzanne: Well, I need to go inside and wash up, and then we should probably get off at the next exit and find someplace to get the flat fixed so we’re not heading out to the country without a spare.
Debbie: Really? How long will that take?
Suzanne (shrugging): Depends on the type of damage, I guess. I just hope they can fix it and I don’t have to buy new tires.
[Sound of Debbie audibly sighing. She turns the camera on herself and addresses it directly.]
Debbie: Well, I guess it’s good that we’re getting the bad thing over with this early in the trip.
Suzanne (off camera): Did you seriously just say that? That’s like saying it can’t get any worse.
Debbie (grinning sheepishly at the camera): Oops. I guess I should go back inside and find some wood to knock on. Or wood laminate, I guess.
[End of video.]
[Video segment opens with shot of a television and slowly zooms in.]
Debbie [off camera, speaking softly]: So, we’re at a Robertson’s Tires in Vinita, hanging out in the waiting room while they fix our flat, and there’s a fishing show on the TV.
Suzanne (off camera): Not just fishing. Noodling.
[Camera pans to Suzanne and zooms out.]
Debbie: What’s noodling?
Suzanne: You know, where they stick their arm in a hole under water and wait for a catfish to bite it, then yank it out, fish and all.
Debbie: You’re kidding me. That’s a thing?
Suzanne [jerks head toward the TV]: Watch.
[The camera pans back to the television, on which a skinny, long-haired, bearded and bare-chested man jerks his arm out of the water with a shout. A large catfish is attached to his arm.]
Debbie [laughing]: Oh my God, are you serious?
Suzanne [singing to the tune of Rogers & Hammerstein’s “Oklahoma”]: LOL-klahoma!
Debbie: How did I not know about this?
Suzanne: I don’t know. I guess you don’t watch enough of the local channels.
Debbie: Geez, I wonder why. LOL-klahoma is right.
Woman off camera: Where are you girls from?
[The camera pans to a middle-aged woman sitting in the row of chairs across from them.]
Suzanne: We’re from here. That’s why we feel comfortable poking fun.
Woman: You’re from Vinita?
Suzanne: No, we’re from Tulsa. I just meant that we’re from this state.
Woman: Ah. Where are you headed?
Debbie: We’re actually on our way up to Miami, but we got a flat tire and stopped to get it fixed.
Woman [nodding]: Do you have family in Miami?
Suzanne: Actually, we’re just going to check out this local legend.
Woman: What legend?
Suzanne: Have you ever heard of Spook Light Road?
Woman: Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’ve heard about that.
Debbie: Really?
Woman: Yes. Those lights are crazy.
Suzanne: You’ve seen them?
Woman: No, no, not me. I’ve never gone out there myself. But my grandmother saw them when she was a girl. She used to tell me the story all the time.
Suzanne: Really? They’ve been showing up for that long?
Woman: Oh yes, they’ve been around a long time. My grandmother grew up in that area, on a farm nearby. She had to walk that road to get to school, and the lights would show up from time to time, even in daylight.
Debbie: Wow.
Woman [nodding]: One time she tried to follow them. (As she tells her story, the camera slowly zooms in on her). She said it was like they were teasing her, like they wanted her to follow, so she did. But she got lost and couldn’t find her way back to the road. When she hadn’t made it home by dark, her parents became worried, and a search party went out to look for her. They found her in the middle of a field. She was disoriented and scared, and she told them she’d heard strange music.
Suzanne: What kind of music?
Woman: She told me once that it was some kind of eerie flute or pipe music, with some bells and some kind of strings. She said it sounded like music they play sometimes at the Renaissance Fair—you girls ever go to one of those?
Debbie: No, but I think I know what you mean.
Woman: Now this was in the early 1900s, so they didn’t have cars driving by with their radios blaring like we do today.
Suzanne: That’s weird. Did she ever hear it again?
Woman: No, and after that she never saw the lights again, either. Her parents thought she must’ve fallen asleep in the field and dreamed the whole thing, but she swore until her dying day that it really happened.
Debbie: That’s amazing.
Suzanne: I know. That’s so weird.
Debbie: Do you think we’ll hear the music when we’re out there?
Suzanne: Who knows? If we do we’ll try to record it, so maybe your grandmother can be vindicated.
Woman [smiling]: Good, good. Just don’t try to follow it!
Man’s voice shouting [off camera]: Gibson!
Suzanne: That’s us. Hey, thanks for telling us your story.
Woman: No problem. Good luck!
[End of video.]
[Voicemail #2. Voice of Suzanne Gibson.]
Mom, are you there? If you’re there pick up! Please be there to pick up! [There is a long pause, followed by an audible sigh.] Okay, well, the GPS is on the fritz and we’re having a heck of a time finding this road. We need somebody to look on Google Maps for us. Call me when you get this. Love you!
[Voicemail #3, left on the phone of James Canton. Voice of Debbie DiCandeloro.]
Hey Babe, it’s me. Are you there? Hellooooo! Pick up pick up pick up! [There’s a short pause.] Okay, fine. Don’t pick up. But we need your help, so call me when you get this. Nothing serious, we’re just lost and the GPS quit on us. I don’t think we’re going to end up lying bleeding in a field or anything if you don’t get back to me soon, so don’t freak out or anything if you don’t get this on time. Still, call me. Okay. Love you.
[The camera is looking through the windshield at a heavily wooded back country road. The daylight is beginning to wane. The time stamp reads 7:23 PM.]
Debbie: We’re lost.
Suzanne: We’re not lost. We just can’t find where we’re going.
[The camera pans over to Suzanne, once again in the driver’s seat.]
Debbie: That’s called being lost.
Suzanne [exasperation in her voice]: I know how to get back to the highway, so no, that’s not being lost. I just can’t find this stupid road thanks to this stupid GPS.
[The camera pans around to Debbie, who addresses it directly.]
Debbie: We’re lost, and our GPS is busted. And apparently we didn’t bring a map.
Suzanne: Well, I called my mom—
Debbie: And I called Jimmy.
Suzanne: And she called her Jimmy. Neither one of them answered, but hopefully at least one of them will get back to us soon and help us figure out where we’re supposed to go.
Debbie: Oh, hey! There’s a guy! [She points the camera out the front window and focuses on a man in overalls and a trucker hat walking along the side of the road.] We can ask him!
Suzanne: What makes you think he’ll know?
Debbie: He looks like a farmer or something. He probably lives around here. Slow down. Don’t pass him.
Suzanne: What if he’s a psycho killer?
Debbie: He’s not a psycho killer.
Suzanne: How do you know?
Debbie: Okay, he might be a psycho killer. If he tries anything funny I’ll just shoot him with my pepper spray while you take off.
Suzanne: And he’ll know right where we’re going so he can come and find us.
[The camera whips back around to Suzanne.]
Debbie: Do you want to just keep driving around indefinitely?
Suzanne: Okay, fine.
[The camera returns to the man, who is now outside the passenger side window. The window lowers as the van stops beside him.]
Debbie: Excuse me! Do you live around here?
The man [eying the van, and the camera, warily]: Yep. You girls need somethin?
Debbie: We’re looking for Spook Light Road. Have you ever heard of it?
Suzanne [calling from behind]: It’s East 50 Road!
The man [later identified as Buck Grady]: Oh, you’re looking for the Devil’s Promenade!
Debbie: The what now?
Suzanne: Yeah, that’s it!
Debbie [pointing the camera at Suzanne]: It is?
Suzanne: Did I not mention it was called that?
Debbie: No, you did not.
Buck Grady [speaking off camera]: You girls are close. [The camera pans back to him as he continues. He’s looking down the road and pointing.] Just keep going straight about two more miles. You’ll come to a four-way stop, and there’ll be a cow pasture on the right, with a tin barn sitting back in the pasture a ways. You’ll want to turn left, and then go another mile or so, and hang a right at the Reisenhoover farm. They got a big sign over their driveway, you can’t miss it. If you go over the creek, then you’ve gone too far and you’ll need to turn around and come back. Now after you turn at the Reisenhoover’s, just keep on for about three or four miles, and you’ll come to a dirt road. Head down that road about two miles and then you’ll be in the best spot to see them lights. Now, you got all that?
Debbie: Yes, sir.
Suzanne: Awesome. Thank you so much!
Debbie: Yes, thank you! We’d have been driving around all night.
Buck Grady [nodding]: You girls take care, and don’t let them lights gitcha!
[They laugh. He waves as they drive off. The camera pans back to Suzanne.]
Suzanne: You did get all that, right?
Debbie: Yeah. Just go until the four-way stop.
Suzanne: Then what?
Debbie: Um. Something about cows and a barn, and somebody named Eisenhower . . . okay, let me replay what he said.
[End of video.]
[The camera shows the back of the van at dusk. It’s parked alongside a dirt-packed road, with thick trees lining each side. The van’s back doors are open. Suzanne is seated on the back bumper, next to an open cooler.]
Suzanne: We made it!
Debbie: Yay! We’re here!
Suzanne: Yay!
[The camera pans around 180 degrees to reveal thick woods on one side, a long stretch of dirt road ahead, and more thick trees on the other side. There is a gap in the trees through which an open field is visible. In the distance lights can be seen traveling back and forth on a raised expressway.]
Debbie [speaking while camera pans]: So this is here. And here is apparently the Devil’s Promenade. Which is where we’re spending the night. [The camera returns to Suzanne.] Gotta say, this is pretty creepy.
Suzanne: Yeah, it’s kind of the middle of nowhere.
Debbie: Well, at least the freeway’s nearby in case we have to hike out of here or something. How far would you say that is?
Suzanne [peering toward the gap in the trees]: I don’t know. Two miles, maybe three?
Debbie [pointing the camera toward the expressway]: So, there’s a bunch of lights right there. Mystery solved! Let’s go home.
Suzanne [laughing]: I don’t think so. We’re doing this. So just settle in for the night, missy.
Debbie [pointing the camera back at Suzanne]: Seriously, though, is it just the headlights people are seeing?
Suzanne: I don’t think so. I mean, people have been reporting sightings since before there were even cars, let alone a freeway over there. [She digs in the cooler and pulls out a can of beer, then offers it to Debbie.] Here, have a beer and relax. We probably won’t see anything until— [Her eyes widen as she looks beyond the camera.] What’s that?
Debbie: What’s what?
Suzanne [pointing]: That!
[The camera spins toward the field. The picture jerks around wildly for a minute, seeking something to focus on, before finding and zooming in on a bright, orange orb of light floating over the field.]
Debbie: Oh my God.
Suzanne: That’s definitely not car headlights.
Debbie: No. Is it . . . I don’t know, a helicopter, maybe? Or a balloon?
Suzanne: I don’t think so. Look!
[Both women fall silent as the orb grows larger and lifts above the tree line. Smaller orbs appear over the field and float up to join the first.]
Debbie: What are those things?
Suzanne: The spook lights, apparently.
Debbie: Duh. But what are they?
Suzanne: Nobody knows. Some people think they’re the ghosts of Indians, or Civil War soldiers. Some say they’re will o’ the wisps, faerie lights meant to lead travelers astray. Another theory— oh crap, they’re coming closer.
[The camera is still focused on the orbs of light, which have begun moving slowly in the direction of the van. Suddenly, the camera turns back toward the van as Debbie scrambles inside. From the front of the van, Debbie points the camera out the back doors, framing Suzanne between the open doors as the lights grow larger and closer.]
Debbie [sounding frantic]: Get in and close the door!
Suzanne [looking back at the camera]: What are you doing? This is what we came for!
Debbie [nearly hysterical]: Just get in!
[Suzanne complies, although she doesn’t appear to be happy about it. Just as she closes the door, the lights appear to rush the van and encircle it, whizzing past the windows. Debbie screams.]
Suzanne: Calm down! It’s only light!
Debbie: Unless it’s a bunch of ghosts, or evil faeries, like you just said!
Suzanne [clearly exasperated]: It’s not ghosts or faeries. Those are only theories.
Debbie: How do you know?
Suzanne: I—
Debbie: I want to go home.
Suzanne: But we—
Debbie: Just get us out of here!
Suzanne: All right, fine. Just calm down.
[Suzanne climbs into the front of the van. As she does, the camera focuses out the front windshield, where the orbs have become a single streak of light encircling the van. Suddenly, they stop and become orbs again as they float off down the road and out of sight.]
Suzanne: There, see? They’re gone, and we’re fine.
Debbie: Shh! Do you hear that?
Suzanne: Hear what?
Debbie: Listen!
[Faintly, strains of flute music can be heard, along with the jingling of bells or a tambourine.]
Debbie: Do you hear?
Suzanne: It’s probably a car headed this way with their radio turned up.
Debbie: I don’t care. I don’t want to be here anymore.
Suzanne: Fine. Maybe you should drive, though. I’ve already had two beers and you were just getting started.
[As she speaks, she turns on the headlights. Debbie screams as the light reveals several figures standing in the road in a semi-circle. They each wear a red, hooded cloak and appear to be wearing strange masks. The music grows louder and more distinct.]
Suzanne: Lock the doors.
[End of video.]
[The following is a transcript of a 911 call placed at 8:36 PM. Ellipses indicate places where speech was interrupted with static.]
911 Operator: 911, please state your emergency.
Suzanne Gibson [music can be heard in the background]: . . . surrounded . . . won't start . . .
911 Operator: I’m sorry, ma’am, you have a poor connection. Please repeat that.
Suzanne: Everywhere! Lights are back . . . stuck! I don’t know what they . . . .
911 Operator: All right, ma’am. You’re not coming in clearly. Are you on a cell phone?
[static]
911 Operator: Okay, I’m going to send a deputy to your position. Do not turn off your cell phone. We need the signal to locate you. Do you understand?
Suzanne: . . . I . . . .
911 Operator: I repeat, do not turn off your cell phone. Help is on the way. Can you tell me whether you require an ambulance?
Suzanne: . . . scared . . .
911 Operator: All right. Someone will be there soon. I’ll stay on the line with you until they arrive. [The static and music both cut out and the line goes silent.] Ma’am? Hello?
[End of call.]
[Video entry #6. Suzanne is huddled in the back of the van, holding the camera on herself. Colored lights are flashing wildly, and the music has grown very loud, albeit muffled enough that Debbie can be heard sobbing softly in the background. It sounds like a minstrel troupe from hell.]
Suzanne [wiping her eyes]: I called 911. It was weird. I could hear the operator just fine, but I don’t think she could hear me. Anyway, she said she’s sending help, and told me to keep my cell phone on so they can find us.
[She holds up her phone and lets out a single laugh.]
So of course that’s when the battery died. The charger won’t work, either. The headlights work fine, so the battery’s okay, but the van won’t start, and the lights are back, and those . . . those people . . . .
[She lifts the camera and points it out the window above her head. A solid streak of light hovers outside the window. Beneath it, the robed figures are dancing wildly in a ring around the van. Suzanne returns the camera to herself.]
I don’t know what they are. They . . . I mean, they’re short. Are they kids? What kids act like that? And their faces . . . I know, they’ve gotta be wearing masks, but they don’t look like . . . .
[She pauses to wipe her eyes and nose.] I’m scared. And Debbie’s completely lost it. If I can snap her out of it, I’m thinking we should just run. We’ve got her pepper spray, and the tire iron, in case we have to fight them off, and we can cut through the field and head for the freeway.
Debbie [off camera]: No. [Suzanne points the camera at her. She’s lying on the floor of the van, but she lifts her head to look at Suzanne.] We’re not going out there.
Suzanne: Debbie—
Debbie: No!
Suzanne: We might not have a choice.
Debbie: We don’t even know what they’re doing out there. It might just be a bunch of kids playing a stupid joke—
Suzanne [raising her voice]: If you really believe that, then why have you been crying for the last five minutes?
[Debbie glares at Suzanne without answering.]
Suzanne [calmer]: Look. Maybe they are just a bunch of kids. Maybe they’re just trying to freak us out, and eventually they’ll get bored and leave. So we can wait a while. But if . . . if they try anything, we need to be ready to fight and run.
[Debbie lies back down. She says something, but it’s too muffled to make out. Suzanne turns the camera back on herself.]
Suzanne: Okay, so . . . I guess that’s the plan, if help doesn’t come. [She lets out another bitter-sounding laugh.] Some vacation, huh? [She grows serious as she wipes her eyes again.] Mom, if you see this . . . I mean, if something happens and you find this, I want you to know I—
[She’s cut off as the van begins to shake violently.]
Debbie: What is that? What’s happening?
[The camera turns toward the back doors as Debbie moves next to Suzanne. Hands can be seen pounding on the windows. There is screaming, but it’s not certain who is doing it. The music almost drowns it out. Glass can be heard breaking, and the camera falls to the floor, landing on its side. The side sliding door of the van is visible. It slides open to reveal a figure in a red hood. The screaming abruptly stops, and there is no more sign of Suzanne or Debbie.]
[The figure picks up the camera. The image freezes on a blurred, strangely bird-like face or mask. It remains this way for twenty more minutes, and then the video abruptly goes dark.]
[End of video.]
Suzanne Gibson’s van was found abandoned on the side of the road by a deputy of the Ottawa County Sheriff’s Department on the morning of August 15th. The video camera and Suzanne’s cell phone were both found lying in a nearby ditch.
No other trace was found of either woman. Despite being parked on a dirt road, no foot prints were found leading up to nor away from the van.
Upon viewing the video, the Sheriff’s department brought in Buck Grady for questioning. He was subsequently released with no charges being filed against him.
The whereabouts of both Suzanne Gibson and Debbie DiCandeloro remain unknown.
I hope you enjoyed this story, which originally appeared in my flash fiction collection Midnight Snacks. This was an experimental piece for me, a blend of a very vivid dream I once had, some Ozark high strangeness, and my love of found-footage horror mockumentaries.
You can grab a copy of the book here. If you liked this story, I’d very much appreciate it if you could take a few minutes to leave a review on Amazon. And a heart, comment or reStack will make my day.
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Great story, I loved the format! Are the strange figures wearing plague doctor masks? Terrifying!