He hid in the bushes. They were after him. They always were.
They carried guns, the three men. He knew they hated him. He had been living out in the woods all his life, and all they ever wanted was to kill him.
He had learned. Learned to hide, learned when to run.
Do you think the monster’s around? Ron said…
They had been walking for weeks, if a such word made any sense anymore. The old horse was tired. Every day they had to carry more of the equipment themselves.
To the south there was nothing. The last people they had met…
The sun was going down, painting the sky in a thousand colours reflected in the beautiful landscape below. In the city streetlights were coming on, one by one as the shadow of the hills slowly crept through the quarters. They could see the fields where they played as children, the mountains. The ocean. The vast sea stretching out, seemingly with no end. She had always dreamt of the ocean, the unknown beyond the waves.
Maybe some day he would take her.
They had been sitting there for a long time now, just staring into eternity. Feeling the silence. Breathing. Existing.
-Captain! Something is approaching. Something big!
Captain Johnson looked at the radar. It was big. Big as a whale, or even bigger. There were no whales on fifteen thousand feet depth.
Gebbler was watching through the thick glass window.
-Astonishing! This was more than he had expected, more than he’d ever dreamed of.
Two red eyes were approaching in the dark. They were glowing, and were getting bigger and bigger as they came closer in the dark water…
Rewritten, read out loud and republished. Originally published on fictionspawn.com February 21. 2017
The lighthouse shows way for lost sailors. The wind pulls the stone walls, threatening to tear them apart, but these walls have held storms for a hundred years.
This one was harder, though. Much harder. The sea was higher than he’d ever seen. The wind stronger. The thunder rumbled louder…
Look! Paladin said to his mother. A book with Grandpa’s handwriting!
Oh, my! Who would have known grandpa was a writer. And the name, “Tales of the Horror”. Haha! Your dark and sinister Grandpa…
They both laughed. Grandpa had been the funniest man alive, always cheerful and friendly. The only moment Paladin had seen him sad was the weeks after Grandma left him.
He sat down by the desk and started reading while his mother kept organising the old things in the attic. They would have to make a lot of trips out here the coming weeks, a lot of things had been piling up through a long life.
The first story was about…