Portance of Fear is a horror fiction podcast
which is intended for mature audiences. Discretion
is advised. Welcome, fearlings, to another weird
and horrifying tale made just for you. I am your
host, Mashulu, and I'll be your guide into the
macabre and mysterious. In tonight's story, we
see what happens when an isolated town confronts
the cosmic unknowable in The Hand. Before we
get started... Take a moment to like, subscribe,
and ring that notification bell so you don't
miss a single terrifying story. The town of Hall
Ridge was remote, peaceful, and quiet that evening.
Snow rested on the pines in the valley below,
causing them to creak and groan. Steve's breath
turned to fog when he exhaled as he stargazed.
Hilde, his aging German shepherd, sat at his
side. His dog rarely barked, so it alarmed him
when she became restless and started barking
at the sky. The moon and stars washed out, replaced
by a strange alien glow. A huge ball of flame
hurtling towards the earth. Steve froze in place.
Anything that huge slamming into the earth meant
instant death, maybe even planet -wide death.
He petted Hildy, who whined with fear. This was
the end, he thought. It's okay, girl. It's all
right. The ball of fire flew past his house into
the valley with a thunderous whoosh. Flames shot
up in a column three miles high. Steve hugged
Hildy close to him, waiting for the end. But
then, nothing happened. After the realization
that he hadn't been vaporized, he peered over
the railing. Hundreds of trees smoldered below.
A rolling mist obscured the crash site. The air
smelled of copper and his skin felt electrified.
His radio chirped in the kitchen. Hildy was happy
to get inside. Chief, you there? Chief, do you
read me? Yeah, Connie, I'm here. The switchboard
has been flooded with people saying something
fell out of the sky near your place. Yeah, damnest
thing I've ever seen. It was huge. I thought
we were all cooked, but then nothing. The East
Valley had 20 feet of snow. I'm guessing that
put out any fire. Should I send a fire truck
out? Nah, I don't see any flames. Plus, a truck
couldn't get there anyway. Can you see what it
is? No, I'll check in the morning. Sounds good.
Just so you know, we have no cell service or
internet. Even our landline is down. People will
be cranky come morning. Nothing I can do about
that. Tell them to call Wendy. She's the local
sheriff. Let her deal with it. Okay, have a good
night, Chief. Mavis filmed two teens making out
in an alleyway near her home. Their parents would
know by morning what they were up to. If others
weren't going to care about the morals of the
town, she would. Mavis took another bite of her
chocolate cupcake. She smiled. It was moist and
gooey and perfect. This was her year to win the
bake -off. The sound of her husband snoring on
the couch broke the daydream of baking dominance.
She glowered. The teens below had left, too cold
for a long make -out session. The sky changed
color, drawing her focus. The cell phone camera
caught the descent. The column of fire reminded
her of one thing. God. She quickly watched the
video back. A tear rolled down her cheek. Morning
arrived and Hildy ran to the entryway just as
the doorbell buzzed. She sat and waited. Steve
considered shooting whoever was at the door this
early. He didn't own a gun, but he was sure he
could borrow one. His mouth tasted of the prior
day, but more paste -like. Coffee was needed.
Hildy whined. Her owner was taking too long.
The buzzer rang again with aggression. Steve,
zombie -like, walked to the door. What took so
long, Steve? Wendy asked. A fit woman in her
early forties, dressed in a sheriff's uniform,
awaited him. The gray clouds sat in the sky with
no real pressing place to be. Why are you here?
If it's not to profess your love, then you should
have brought bagels. Nope, not today or ever.
I'm here because you told dispatch to send me
the angry calls about the outages. I figured
I'd come over and shoot you. But then I saw Hildy's
beautiful face and figured you could live a little
longer. Who's a good girl? You are. She lavished
attention on the pup, ignoring Steve's open robe
and ancient tighty -whities. Can I ask you something?
Why are you such a prick, Wendy questioned. You
know why. Come in before you let all the heat
out. How's life? She let out a sigh. Walking
by, she cup -checked him with the back of her
hand, hard. Close your robe, you twitch, she
demanded. Steve doubled over in pain, but didn't
close the robe. It was his house, after all.
Life was fine till my phone blew up with complaints.
I saw an opportunity and I took it. Coffee? Yes,
please. You think whatever it was caused our
communication outage? Maybe. I'll be honest,
I thought we were about to end like the dinosaurs.
Let's go to the porch. I couldn't make out anything
yesterday. How's old up, Chuck? Steve asked.
That was in 10th grade, you child. It's just
Chuck, okay? Not as long as I draw breath. Still
mad I didn't marry you? Yes, one of your biggest
mistakes. Shut up, Steve. Hildy whimpered as
they approached the porch, refusing to follow.
A stent of burnt meat rolled up from the valley
into the house. They covered their mouths and
looked down. That can't be real, right? It's
not possible, Steve stammered. It shouldn't be,
but there it is. Let's get back inside. How many
people know about this? Christ, in this town?
Everyone. It lit the sky up. I mean, they know
a meteorite fell, but that's it. Luckily, it's
been snowing. It's hard to get down to it. That
smell, I guess part of it cooked? Maybe? Should
we tell the mayor? Asked Wendy. Walter? No, he's
useless. I guess we need a doctor, which means
good old up, Chuck. Chuck. His name is Chuck.
You seriously don't understand why we never married?
I don't. You still love me today, and you know
it. Any love I have is tempered by your stupidity.
After dropping Hildy off at Connie's, Wendy and
Steve headed to the clinic. It was empty. Chuck
made more house calls than anything else. It
was not a good time for visitors when his wife
and the fire chief arrived. Nurse Tina was behind
him, rubbing his shoulders, her chest pressed
up against the back of his bald head. Chuck's
eyes were closed. When she saw Wendy, she stopped
suddenly. Wendy put her finger to her lips and
snuck over, taking Tina's place. Tina left quickly,
a guilty look across her brow. Wendy tightened
her grip, causing Chuck to squeal. Give me a
reason not to bury you under this clinic, Chuck,
she seethed in his ear. Honey, um, she was out
helping my... Ow! Me out. It's no big deal. Hey,
Chuck. Maybe it's not a good idea to let your
nurse give you massages when your wife wears
a gun to work every day, Steve warned. Wendy
tightened her grip. How long, Chuck? She snapped.
It was just a harmless neck rub. Let go. You're
killing me. You're overreacting again, baby.
Danger, Chuck. Women hate that word, Steve quipped.
Wendy dug in. Don't lie to me. You've been sleeping
with her, haven't you, you little weasel? Wendy
thought about shooting him, but she hated paperwork.
Um, well, shit. Okay, yeah. For like six months,
maybe a year, Wendy spun the chair around and
punched him in the face. His nose spit blood.
Jesus, you broke my nose, you psycho. You're
lucky that's all I did, you son of a bitch. Why
did I ever fall in love with you? I've been asking
that for years. Shut up, Steve. I'll sue you
for assault. You're crazy. Adrenaline raced through
her veins. She went for her gun. Steve threw
up his arms. Wait, okay, everyone calm down.
Take a breath. Wendy backed off a few steps.
Tina poked her head back in the office. Your
next patient is here, doctor. The doctor is busy.
Cancel all his appointments, you tramp, Wendy
snarled. Three snowmobiles flew between the trees
in a downhill trajectory. Ground zero was at
least an hour from town. The sky threatened another
snowstorm at any moment, so they made haste.
They arrived at the edge of the crash site. Hundreds
of trees lay on the ground snapped off at the
base. The 20 feet of snow had melted leaving
behind a large circular pattern of steaming weirdness.
In the middle lay a thousand yard long severed
arm. It had gray blue skin with burned regions
of charcoal black. A jagged red bone protruded
from where the shoulder would have connected.
Steve shuddered imagining what weapon could have
caused such a cut. On the other end was a hand
with four fingers and a thumb that lay open.
The fingers were slim compared to the thumb which
had a gold band on it. Resting in the palm was
a large spherical diamond the size of a pretentious
SUV. Though amazing to behold, the smell of alien
rot made the three want to vomit. It took two
hours to get to within a few feet of it. The
thing loomed over them. There was too much to
say, so no one spoke. They just glanced at each
other. The closer they got, the more dread welled
up in Chuck, amazement in Steve, and disbelief
in Wendy. Steve began to reach his hand out.
Wendy grabbed his arm. Are you out of your mind?
Why would you even think about touching it, she
snapped. I'm not sure. I just want to touch it,
Steve replied. Steve started reaching out again.
Wendy got in front of him and pushed him back.
No, knock it off. I already lost my husband today.
I can't lose you too, Steve, so knock it off.
He stepped back a few feet, the weight of her
words giving him pause. His skull felt like it
was filled with hot, chunky soup. He turned to
find Chuck on the ground in shock a few feet
away. He knelt down to help. It's okay, Chuck.
Breathe. Chuck slipped into ugly crying. His
tears were a torrent of fright. He gasped for
air and started to hyperventilate. Wendy grabbed
him by the shoulders. Chuck, look at me. Take
a deep breath, honey. It's going to be all right.
Focus on me, Wendy pleaded. Chuck felt like he
was in a tunnel and Wendy was miles away. He
started running towards her voice. She talked
until he found his way free. Sorry. I'm okay
now. Just... All my emotions exploded at once
seeing this thing. I'm sorry I cheated. I'm sorry.
Please don't leave me, he said. We can talk about
that later. I understand what you're going through.
I feel minuscule in this thing's presence. Like
an ant. But none of that matters. We need a plan.
What are we going to do, Wendy asked. I can get
tissue samples, take them back to the lab, try
to see how dangerous this thing is to the town,
Chuck said. I'm not sure we should touch it,
Wendy reiterated. We need to know what we're
dealing with. I'll be careful. Steve, we need
to keep this quiet somehow. Not sure how we do
that. People already know that something's here,
and it sure the hell is too big to hide. It won't
be long before someone decides to come down here
and take a look. What about a town meeting? If
we can't hide it, we can at least warn people
not to come down here. We should talk with the
mayor, though, Chuck said. Mavis had watched
the sheriff, the fire chief and the doctor get
on their snowmobiles and race out of town. She
often watched the townspeople from her porch.
It was her right, after all. She paid taxes so
she should be allowed to know what was going
on. It occurred to her that the sheriff, doctor
and fire chief may not be acting in the town's
best interest. Were they going to try to hide
it? She stood with her conspiracies, too afraid
to actually go down into the valley to see for
herself. She had the video. She hadn't noticed
four hours had passed when they came back. They
parked near the clinic and Chuck went in. Wendy
and Steve went to City Hall. Mavis stood, grabbed
her coat, stepped over her dead husband and walked
right out the door. Three people were missing
from the town hall meeting. Chuck, who was at
the clinic running tests. He'd taken some samples
from the alien arm with reluctant help from Wendy.
Connie, who lived further up the mountain and
didn't want to leave Hildy on her own. It was
clear a storm was coming. And George Septon,
who never missed any town meeting, but was busy
being dead. Mavis had planted a .22 slug deep
in his brain. She sat in the front row, the gun
in her purse, listening to everyone speak. She
held her phone with the video playing. She watched
it over and over. The mayor raised his hand after
a long barrage of questions. The mayor, or Walter
to those who felt he was a tool, allowed Wendy
and Steve to recount the situation in the valley.
The questions were what one would expect. Is
the world ending? Where is it from? Is it dangerous?
But the one that everyone really wanted to know
was, what are you going to do next, mayor? Running
a small town where things never really happened
had not prepared Walter for that question. He
was a bit flummoxed. Um, right, well, We're still
formulating a plan and trying to get communications
back up. Trust me, all of these concerns are
valid, people. But the reality is, we don't know
anything yet. The doctor is running some tests
to see what he can find. I ask all of you to
stay in town. Do not go to the site until we
know it's safe, please. Now, we've been without
power and internet before. Think of it as a break
from the world you moved so far away from. Most
of us were born here, Walter, Jill chided. Yes.
Yes, of course. Which means you all know that
we have outages. You also can tell from the sky
and the feel of the air that a big storm is about
to hit. And when it does, we're trapped. I think
the best thing is for us to ride it out here.
City Hall has all the supplies we need to hold
us for a while. Of course, this is America. The
choice is yours. The room rumbled with anxiety.
Mavis glanced at her video, then stood to speak.
This all seems very reasonable, doesn't it? A
giant arm falls from the heavens, and the town
government, who claims to have our best interest
at heart, tells us to stay away? Well, I filmed
the whole thing. When I realized just what I'd
caught on video, it scared the heck out of me.
This is literally the hand of God. Could God
be dead, asked Mavis? Now, Mavis, I don't think
we should jump to that conclusion. This isn't
the arm of God, Father Sanders interjected from
the back. Really, Father? Did God not make us
in his image? Sure, we're a poor copy, but still.
I, for one, will not sit here and let the town's
elites cover up this event. Wendy got up to calm
things down, but Mavis cut her off. And look,
right on cue, the mayor's attack dog. Attack
dog? What are you going on about, Mavis? We're
not claiming to know anything about this arm.
Chuck is doing his best right now to get some
answers. I think it's time you settled down.
Settled down? When the world is ending? No, I
will not. People, this is it. We have proof of
a higher power. And we also have proof that it
is not immune to death. And if God is dead, it
means we, his children, will be soon, Mavis exclaimed.
People sat stunned. Steve looked at their faces,
realizing that Mavis was winning hearts and minds.
Mavis, you have no clue what you're talking about.
Stop trying to stir trouble, ordered Steve. See?
Another government puppet. My friends listen.
I have a video of it. I know it's God's body
made flesh. Wendy didn't know what to think.
Mavis had always been a bit off. She was a little
too competitive in local baking competitions,
spied on people around town, and ran the book
club with an iron fist. But she also knitted
blankets for newborn babies, delivered meals
to seniors, and volunteered at the school. At
her core, she'd always been kind. Something had
shifted inside her, though, Wendy thought. Mavis,
we're all worked up. None of us really knows
what's going on. I've known you and your... Where's
your husband, Mavis? I... I'm not sure. I thought
he'd be here. I loved him, I really did, Mavis
rambled. Loved him? Mavis, is George okay? Father
Sanders came up behind Wendy. Mavis removed the
gun from her purse. I shot him! He wouldn't listen
to me. I showed him the proof and he said it
was AI. Fake news. So this morning I made him
pancakes. I watched him greedily stuff his face
like he always did. A final meal for a blind
pig. Then I put a bullet in his brain. Wendy
slowly put her hand on her gun. The father and
Steve now flanked her. The other townspeople
backed away. Put the gun down, Mavis. This isn't
you. You need help. Don't patronize me, Wendy.
That's God's arm in that valley. I can feel it
in my bones. We don't have much time left. We
need to go down there, have a funeral. Mavis,
please. You're not acting right, Steve added.
Stop gaslighting me. I'm not crazy. The world
is going to end. God is dead. Mavis, if God was
truly dead, we'd already be gone. This isn't
God's doing. That's not God's arm, I promise.
Please put the gun down, Father Sanders requested.
He took another step forward. Wendy put her hand
on his back. Wait. She's very agitated. Just
stay still. Outside, the wind started to howl,
the temperature dropped, and the first flakes
began to fall. The storm brewed above. Chuck
glanced out the window. It was going to be a
bad one, he thought. The clinic didn't have much
in the way of testing equipment. They could handle
basic medical care. More serious injuries or
illnesses were sent to the county hospital an
hour away. He took a slide to the microscope,
hesitated, and then looked. Ten minutes went
by. He stared, with his free hand scrawling words
in a notebook, mumbling to himself. He set the
pen down and went to the lobby. He looked at
where Tina sat. He'd sent her to the meeting.
He'd planned on marrying her someday. He just
hadn't told Wendy yet. Tina was fun. The kind
of fun Wendy wouldn't allow herself to be. But
now, all that seemed trivial. He wondered if
there was an afterlife. He took off his lab coat,
set it on the chair neatly folded, and walked
out into the cold. Father Sanders paused, considering
Wendy's words. The room felt tight, the air thin.
Outside, the snow -laced wind became more and
more powerful. Mavis? Put the gun down and we'll
work this out, Wendy bargained. Steve thought
about rushing her. She was only a few yards away.
But he wasn't faster than a speeding bullet.
No, you get on the floor, Wendy, all three of
you. You're trying to keep us from the truth.
She glanced at the freeze frame on her phone.
I can feel the end is almost here. My head is
hurting so badly, Wendy. It's like long needles
are being shoved into my brain, Mavis confided.
She held her phone up to show a blurry picture
of the hand to the crowd. This can't be real,
but there it is. You and Steve saw it. Father,
you know it's God's hand, right? She asked, the
phone shaking in her grasp. No, Mavis, it's not.
The gun fired. Father Sander's body collided
with the floor hard. His corpse convulsed as
muscles responded to energy with no direction.
The mare's courage faltered. A stream of warm
liquid ran down his leg. What have you done?
demanded Wendy. Wendy, is this God's hand or
not? Mavis pointed the gun at Wendy's head. Her
phone rattled in the other. Yes, it is. Now put
the gun down. Liar! Steve surged forward, but
it felt like the room was filled with molasses.
He couldn't knock Wendy out of the way fast enough.
A bullet tore through her shoulder, spinning
her like a top. Steve grabbed her before he fell,
losing his balance. They both landed on the ground.
Mavis lined up another shot. Wendy gasped for
air and tried to pull her own gun, but her arm
spasmed. The second shot hit Wendy in the stomach.
She blacked out. Every person behind them had
pushed up against the wall, trying to become
invisible. Steve reached for Wendy's gun but
froze when Mavis put her gun to his head. Is
it the hand of God, Steve? Yes. Correct. Now
go back to your seat. Leave Wendy there. Steve
trembled with fear, grief, and confusion. What
was happening to the town? Was the thing in the
valley causing this? He didn't know. She picked
up Wendy's gun. The doors and windows rattled
as the blizzard pounded the town. Mayor, join
the others. Steve, drag Wendy's body over there,
Mavis commanded. Wendy twitched. She's not dead.
Let me help her. Mavis, with no hesitation, shot
her in the head. She's dead. Now move her. Steve
dragged Wendy's body to just under the window.
He looked out across to the clinic. He'd never
liked Chuck, but he hoped that he was finding
answers. Chuck was the only hope for the town.
Mavis took control. Everyone sit. Like a kennel
of well -trained dogs, they all did. Steve, glassy
-eyed, sat close to Wendy. He'd known her all
his life. He should have married her, but he
didn't. He let her slip away to a different path.
At the time, he was young and stupid. He didn't
understand what he wanted till it was too late.
He looked at her, slowly rotting just a few feet
away. Sounds became echoes. Echoes became regrets.
Hours passed. Hunger attacked and wills thinned.
People started to listen to Mavis's point. No
one else was talking. She'd made sure of that.
The world was going to end and the stars would
be snuffed out. Soon the room nodded with understanding.
But Steve hadn't listened. He kept glancing at
the love of his life succumbing to rigor mortis.
He'd had enough. If the world was going to end,
he wanted it to hurry up. With a sudden burst,
he catapulted himself at Mavis. Startled, her
gun went off. Connie finally got a call out to
search and rescue days later. She'd seen smoke
rise up in the town not long after the blizzard,
but was trapped. She wondered what was going
on. Speculation morphed into anxiety, and in
turn she forced herself out through the snow
to the call center. Hildy stayed by her side
the whole way. The town was empty, and City Hall
had been burned to the ground. Four charred corpses
lay in the meeting hall. Chuck was found, frozen
solid, leaning against a pole 100 feet from the
clinic. The rescue workers never found a severed
arm in the valley, just an impact zone. Mavis
and her new followers were there, though. They
stood in a large circle, looking at the sky.
Their faces warped into inhuman expressions.
They were all naked, their bright red bodies
frozen in place. Autopsies showed they'd been
cooked from the inside out. No explanation as
to how it happened or why. Mavis had been right,
in a way. The end had been near. The town was
dead. Well, that got out of hand quickly. What
would you do if confronted by a huge disembodied
arm that fell from space? Be sure to tell us
in the comments. If you liked this Portents of
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your screen now. Good night, fearlings. Sleep
well, if you can.