The Town's name was Sigma, almost dead smack in the middle of Kalkaska County. It was kind of off the beaten track, about the only people from out of town were on their way to somewhere else. Not growing, not shrinking, Sigma was just there. Until the Summer of 1987...
Open up a map of Michigan, And you'll find that it's still there, The kind of little town they make jokes about, 'Bout 25 miles from nowhere. There were farms and homes, a hardware store, A little bar called Horner's, A gas station that closed in '74, And a barber shop on the corner.
The 87th Summer of this century Started much like all the rest. Not much happenin', kinda quiet, Was the way they liked it best. Then on the nights, the first week of June, People started hearing sounds, Somethin' walkin' 'round outside the windows... And scratchin' up and down.
They'd heard that song all Summer long But, nobody made the connection. "Must of been a raccoon" They would say, "Or a bear that needs directions." They'd laugh and joke in the daylight hours 'Bout the Dogmen roamin' 'round, But nobody joked and nobody slept... After the sun went down.
Then pets and livestock came up missin', Barns were gettin' torn to shreds, Somebody broke the door on the hardware store, And telephones went dead. The grunts and screams that filled the night Became more than most could take. Some packed bags and some loaded guns... And everybody stayed awake.
What happened in those last few days Nobody really knows. But now Sigma stands a Ghost town... 330 vanished souls.
And somewhere in the North woods darkness A creature walks upright. And the best advice you may ever get... Is Don't Go Out At Night.
Rydia Royu · Tue Oct 16, 2007 @ 02:46am · 0 Comments |