I was born in New Mexico, but had moved to California when I was six months old. Usually about once a year, my family and I go to see my grandparents in Northern New Mexico, as they live between the city of Santa Fe, and between the small town of Espinola.
My grandparents live by a series of hills that end up in the middle of the dessert near by, and as a child, I always felt eerie at those hills.
When I was about eleven years old, my stepfather and I went around exploring the hills looking for cool looking rocks and other odd items. As I walked around the bend of a hill, I spotted a small cave in the hill, and as I walked near it, I saw a small black shape dart out from a bush near by. Curious as to what the shape was, I drew closer to the bush (I suspected it was an animal, or a tarantula). The bush was right near the cave, and as I stood at the foot of the cave, I felt a cold wave of dread wash over me. I slowly backed away from the cave, when my step dad called to me, and told me it was time to head back. I quickly ran away from the cave.
When I was nineteen, I visited my grandparents again with my family during Christmas time. I spoke with my grandfather about several things that were happening with me. He asked me if I was going to walk around the hills, and I told him I wasn't going near the hills. When he asked me why, I told him of the strange shadow I saw by the small cave. At this, my grandpa paled and shook his head slowly. My grandfather has a bad memory due to his old age, but he looked at me and spoke of the cave.
Seventy-eight years before my grandfather was born, rumors circulated that a local recluse was murdering small children around town, and around the Indian reservations. The man was a bit odd, and was often sighted speaking to himself or mumbling to himself.
One cold morning, an Indian boy's sister went missing, and the boy managed to track down the mad man, due to information he heard from witnesses who spotted the man carrying a small girl.
Suffice to say the hermit most likely murdered the boy and girl, as they were never seen again. A public outcry rang out against the man in Espinola, and several men rode over to the small cave and shot the man where he stood. My grandfather told me he only laughed as they shot him, and he said they would never find the bodies of the children.
After several investigations and digging, no bodies were ever unearthed.
My grandfather told me not to fear the shadow, as the shadow was trying to warn me of the cave itself. My grandfather went by the cave once and saw the shadow, but like me, he didn't feel frightened of the shadow. When I asked him if the shadow was a ghost, he told me it was the shadow of the Indian boy.