A very short story about an horrific event in the woods.
It was a windy night and the autumn leaves rustled and fell from the branches leaving the trees bare and wan. With each step I took, dead twigs broke underfoot. But I could hear more. Something strange and frightening. I was not alone. I paused periodically and listened but each time I stopped, whatever was following me paused as well. It was getting darker. And colder and colder. I was frightened. I could feel my heart pounding in my breast. I began to run, twisting and turning through the threatening trees.
Above the sound of my own panting I could hear something else. Something inhuman. I could smell my own fear, but as well as my own terror there was a more terrible stench. The noisome stench of the undead, risen from their graves. And then, to my despair, my foot caught on a broken branch and I fell to the ground with a terrified scream.
As I lay there, sharp pain shooting up my twisted leg, I buried my face in the rotting leaves, hoping to God the unspeakable creature who had been following me would pass me by, would leave me be. But no, I could sense the threatening, foul horror standing over me, ready to strike.
Summoning all my courage to the breaking point I turned my head to face whatever might befall me. Oh Jesus. It was worse than my wildest nightmares. The dreadful figure of the late Elvis Presley loomed above me, complete with silver lamé catsuit. And a big red guitar.
"Are you lonesome tonight....?" were the last words I heard before unconsciousness brought me merciful release.
The Butcher's Boy
- 2011 Readers Favorite Award Silver Medal Winner in Horror - Fiction
A Paranormal/Chiller by Michael Robb
Thirty-one years ago, Buxly the Butcher went to trial for killing h
