The wagons rumbled slowly through the mountain pass desperately trying to plow through the thick snowstorm in search of a shelter from the hail and danger. The settlers were about to give up their futile search when, all of a sudden, a cave came to sight. The wagons were immediately stopped and the people inside were evacuated. Just when the settlers were reaching for the luggage and food did everyone hear a low roar. One man was staring at the mountain peak, clutched his face and screamed, "Oh good Lord! We're going to die!" Sensing immediate danger, the guides quickly ushered all the settlers into the cave. "What about my food and clothing?" exclaimed a frightened woman, "I won't be able to survive without them!" Hearing this, her older brother rushed out of the cave and desperately tried to reach the wagon that had their supplies. The roar became louder and louder until a massive flash of white engulfed him along with the wagons and horses. One of the guides whirled around and stared at the remaining survivors with his beady eyes. He reassured the small fidgeting crowd, "Don't worry. This snowstorm will probably only last at the most a few hours. We don't have any food and as for water, we can melt the snow." So, with that said, the remaining people laid their heads on the hard and freezing rock floor and tried to go to sleep.
One week passed and the snowstorm still raged on. The pioneers drank nothing but the dirty snow for water. One night, when everyone was asleep, one of the guides woke up to his intense hunger. He looked over at the other guide and thoughts began to enter his mind. He tried to repel the barbaric idea his mind was telling him to do, but, alas, he couldn't resist his stomach. Later, everyone else awoke to a blood-chilling scream accompanied by the smell of blood and a pile of flesh-covered bones that carries the fresh stench of death.
Little by little, the number of survivors began to decline. Little by little, the guide with the beady eyes got fatter and fatter. And little by little, the winter snow began to melt and birds began to sing again. But in that horrible cave, time has stopped on that one stormy night where the first blood-curling scream led to many nights of terror. Not one of the survivors came out of that cave; not even the beady-eyed guide. And until today, on that particular stormy night, the haunting screams of those 200 years ago can still be heard across the valley of death.