This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/SalamiMommie on 2024-09-29 18:57:44+00:00.
My Grandpa used to tell me the best stories when he was alive. He grew up in the mountains and lived a very hard life. He had eight other siblings and they had to raise each other as his parents were gone often. One of the ways he helped provide was making moonshine.
A man named Lucius helped my grandpa make corn liquor. They ran two stills at once and were extremely successful. Grandpa said they almost got caught a few times by Tennessee police but never did.
Grandpa said he kept the money on him and was able to help take care of his siblings. He said Lucius buried his in mason jars and would keep it hidden in the dirt. He knew where he hid it too. They had a good relationship and knew Grandpa wouldn’t steal it from him.
Lucius had no family and died before he could have kids. He said Lucius was driving a trunk load when some cops got behind him with sirens a blazing. He went too fast around a curve and the car flipped many times going down a mountain.
Grandpa said he destroyed the stills and stopped making shine after that. He claims he didn’t dig up the money because he was so filled with guilt. He became a Christian and tried to live an honest life. He said that money didn’t belong to him.
The property belonged to him and all his siblings which became a headache when they’d all debate what to do with the land. There was forty acres. It was deep, deep in the woods.
Grandpa wanted to donate the land, some wanted to sell, and some didn’t. So nothing ever did get done ultimately. Grandma told them she didn’t want anything to do with after he passed away.
I would go up there occasionally to deer hunt and camp once in a blue moon. I had memories of him showing me the land and where the stills once were. He shown me a place near by where the money supposedly was buried. He stacked a few rocks by a tree in that are. He also built a tiny cross and placed in the ground near by as a tribute to Lucius. He used to scare me by saying that Lucius haunts the area.
I made the decision that I was going to find out if it was truly there. I needed money for sure, the economy is terrible and cost of living isn’t going down anytime soon. But I also just needed to know I guess. Plus, all that money was doing was sitting there.
I informed the two relatives that were still alive that I was going to go camping and one gave me the key to the gate. I drove to it and let myself in.
I had to drive across a tiny body of water before I could park my truck. Grandpa said he had to walk a mile from their run down cabin to the edge of the road daily to get to the school bus.
I put my 45 in my holster and carried along the trail after turning on my battery powered lantern and grabbing a shovel. You never know if you’d see a coyote or a tweaker. Meth has become a real scary problem in this county.
Finding the area wasn’t too hard. What was scary was hearing the wind howl and seeing an occasional possums eyes glowing back. I could have sworn I heard a voice saying “turn back.”
I found the cross that Grandpa built for his departed friend. There was a lot of ground to cover so I began digging in every direction.
I must have spent a good half hour looking and felt like giving up..that was until I hit something.
I reached into the ground and moved more dirt with my hands until I felt the jar. I tugged until it made its way out.
My ears began to ring and buzz aggressively. I felt wind push past my ear. I dropped the jar to cover them. I looked forward and seen something running at me. It was two dogs but I could see through them.
I stood up and seen a shotgun pointed at me with a man I could see through holding it. I fell down.
“Stop right there! You ain’t taking my money.” It had to be Lucius. He was a young man wearing overalls and clean shaved.
One of the dogs ran to me and bit my leg. I tried hitting him with a rock but my hand went straight through. My hand was freezing as if I buried it in snow.
“Back up, Blue!” He commanded and the dog returned to the owner. I placed my good hand on top of the dog bite that was now burning. I could see my jeans being stained by blood.
“Please, please don’t do this Lucius.” I begged as I took my hand to slowly reach for my pistol. I realized it wasn’t going to do me any good anyway.
“How do you know my name?” He lowered his shotgun.
“I’m Jim’s Grandson.”
“Jim who?”
“Your partner. I’m sorry. I just needed the money.”
He stood quiet for what felt like an eternity.
“Where is Jim?” He kept his gun at his side.
“He passed away not too long ago. He talked about you to me often.”
He let out a smirk.
“He was a crazy one, I tell you what. I reckon it’s time I go see him.” He reached into his overall pocket and pulled out a jar.
“Drink this.”
“But I-“
“Drink or I shoot.” The smell was strong.
I swallowed a mouth full and it felt like my insides were on fire. It wasn’t a normal liquor burn. I felt so much pain in my body. It felt as if my insides literally caught on fire.
I woke up in my bed. My head was pounding something fierce. I looked down at my jeans and the stain was still there. I could feel the bite too. I managed to make it to the counter and swallow some Tylenol. I looked through my window to see my truck parked.
I hobbled out and unlocked my door. The backseat was filled with dirty mason jars full of money.