The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!
There was a story passed down through the ages foretelling of some ‘thing’ lurking deep in the forest. Supposedly upon greeting it, one may go entirely mad. I had never met someone who had actually tried to challenge the story, until now.
One night while sitting alone in my office, about to close for the evening, a peculiar man with a handle bar mustache walked through the door. In a small town like this, I know everyone, but this man… well, he seemed not only unfamiliar but a bit off his rocker. He stood in the shadows and several seconds passed before he spoke.
“Are you Dr. Maslek?” he queried with a rasp in his voice.
“Yes, how may I help you?” I asked, while gesturing for him to take a seat. He obliged and slowly walked to the suede chair opposite me. He brushed his lap and a cloud of dust puffed off him. His head hung low, though he sat straight up. I could hardly see his face and something was beginning to feel… dangerous.
“Doctor,” he mumbled between nibbling on his nails, “I went into the woods, I know that it’s forbidden, but I had to know.” He gripped his thighs; every muscle in his body was tensing. ‘This poor soul,’ I thought.
“Well, go on, Mister… I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.”
“Well go on, Arnold, please feel free to proceed. There will be no judgment here.” I stated. Arnold swallowed hard, then looked up at me – fully engulfed in light. His face was coated with what I gathered to be dust of some sort, and held an expression of fear and pain intertwined. His pale eyes seemed to be searching for something, but what? I did not know.
“I met it, tonight, Doc. Tied and looking helpless. She plays tricks, you must understand,” he pleaded.
I nodded, although I did not quite gather what he was getting at. I stared at his eyes, they initially seemed a pale blue but were now much more gray and stony.
“She changed me, Doc.” He mumbled and looked down at his hands.
There before me, Arnold turned to stone. I stared in disbelief and questioned my own sanity. I stood and walked toward him, I tapped his arm and the entirety of him collapsed. On the floor of my office, squirming over my feet, lay a centipede, in all the dust. It ran under the crack of my door, I looked out the window and saw nothing but darkness. ‘Is this real?’ I thought. ‘Perhaps, I should also find out for myself…’ I grabbed my coat and headed out the door towards the forest.
Fiction © Copyright Lydia Prime
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com
More about Lydia Prime:
Lydia grew up in a small, ‘Mayberry,’ sort of town, in New Jersey. She thoroughly enjoys gummy bears and laughing through the darkest depths of life. More often than not, she writes about demons and monsters, however, being a recovering addict tends to turn inner demons into fearsome foes to be fought beyond the constraints of the mind. ‘Sometimes,’ she states, ‘what’s inside, is scarier than anything reality throws at you.’
Please visit Lydia on Facebook for more info.