(I'm planning on moving more of my writing to patreon, this short story series will still be free)

8 Days

“Mr. Grey, please, tell us more!”

Dr. Young has returned to my door. And this time there’s more people with him.

“Dr. Young, I thought I already explained that there is no more I can tell you.”

He nudged the person next to him. “See, I told you he wouldn’t say anymore!”

The man spoke, “Sir, if I may,” he paused and looked at the two others with them, “if we may, we would like to see the drawings as well.”

I look at all of them. They must all be scholars of some kind. Dr. Young did say he was working with another professor. I sigh. “Very well, you may come in. Follow me to the conservatory.” I lead them back to the plant infested room. “Wait here, I’ll return with refreshments.”

(the rest will be available on my patreon next week https://www.patreon.com/jhorvay)

As I reached my horse my hand stung. I looked it, the same one that I had handed to the blind man just moments ago. There was a scar on it now. That wasn't there before... That's right! He had claws and I bled on the table! This scar must be evidence of that!

I race back the the door and before I knock I hear, "enter." I hesitate, but I must see if there's blood on the table!

I open the door. He's sitting there just as I left him. I walk over to the table and look at it. It's pristine white cloth is unmarked.

"Is something wrong?"

"No... Nothing, thought I might have left something behind is all. How'd you know I was at the door again?"

"You know how." A simple answer. He was toying with me. "You have somewhere you need to be don't you?"

"Yes, sorry for intruding again. I'll be going this time."

... *** ... *** ...

12 Days

Home at last. My cottage on Fairway Lake's North side has been my only safe place. I bought it when I was younger. Upon my entering the main foyer I can see that the maid I hired before leaving has been keeping it clean as instructed. She should be around here somewhere.

"Martha! I've returned!" I set my luggage on the bench.

"Mr. Grey! I wish you'd've sent a letter! I would've made sure to have tea on for ya!" She bustled out of the kitchen.

"Martha, the letter would have arrived about the same time I did just now. Would have been a waste of paper."

"Well can I at least help you with something before you send me off?"

"No dear, can't have you do that. From what I can tell just standing here I can see you've done a marvelous job as always. Let me pay the rest of what you've earned. I have business matters to take care of." I pull out the wallet from my pocket and pull out 500 quid. "Here you are madam. And here," I hand her another, "for the carriage fare back into town."

She stares at the money in her hands. "Mr. Grey, this is too much!"

"Nonsense dear! You've earned it!"

"But the carriage fare is only twenty at most!"

"Then use the leftover for lunch! Go and have fun. Life is short ya know!" I pat her shoulder. "I've lived a long and full life, but it seems like yesterday I was just a kid playing in the woods! Oh how I long for those days... You should go and enjoy yourself now Martha."

"Oh, very well Mr. Grey, there's no arguing with you is there?" She sighs. "Let me get my things and I'll be on my way back home."

... *** ... *** ...

9 Days

I open my door to find a stranger standing there.

"Are you Mr. Grey?"

"Yes, how can I help you today?"

"My name is Charles Young. Doctor Charles Young. I'm a Cryptozoologist. Are you familiar with the term?"

Cryptozoologist? One who studies hidden animals? "What does this have to do with me?"

"You know about the The Beast of Overcasture? How about the blind man?"

"Why don't you come in?" I open the door and allow him through. "Let's talk in the conservatory shall we?" I lead him down the hall and into the small sunlight plant infested room. "Have a seat, I'll get us some tea and cakes." I leave him be at the small wooden table and head back to the kitchen. Mint tea is what I grab and put into the kettle. The cakes were done yesterday by Martha. She really needs to find someone else to place her affections on. I return to the conservatory.

"Mint tea, and lemon tea cakes. I don't really have anything else."

"That's alright Mr. Grey."

I look at the now covered table and carefully place the tea and plate of cakes. He's amassed a lot of official documents on the surface.

"Mr. Grey, I have so many questions to ask you. Please, answer them as best you can."

"Dr. Young, if I may, you still have not yet answered my question to you."

"Mr. Grey, The Beast of Overcasture is what we call a cryptid. A hidden animal that may or may not even be real. My job is to study such things and bring the evidence we have, or lack of, to light. That way we may learn more about them."

"I see. And what does this have to do with the blind man?"

"After I spoke with him, he told me to see you. That you know of The Beast as well."

"That is true, I know of it. Tell me what you know of it."

"I only know that it wanders the wood and the only glimpses people have of it are its spindly legs and leftovers." He rummages through the papers. "Half-eaten animals found in the morning. Here," he hands me a photograph, "this is the back end of a deer that was found." The image was in the wood. The back end of a deer lay there, viscera spilling out from where it was bit in half. He handed me another. This one was a closeup of the wound. It showed obvious teethmarks. In another the bone even had clear definition of the monstrous teeth of The Beast. "I've also come upon strangely marked trees in the wood as well." He places papers with the cryptic lettering in front of me. "I don't know what this means, but I think that there might be people out there that worship The Beast."

"Is that all?" I set the papers down and look at him.

He looks a little flabbergasted, "well yes, so far. I've been working with another professor about the letters and symbols, but he has yet to find anything."

"So that's why the blind man sent you to me..."

"Pardon?"

I pull the small notebook from my chest pocket. "Here, add these to your collection. I don't have much time left. This is all I can do for you."

He looks from me to it before opening it. I drink my tea as I watch his facial expressions change. Confusion, surprise, horror. "What is this?" He showed me the page of the sketch I made from that vision.

"Oh that... That is Niggath. I had a vision of it. If you stick around for another nine days you might see it."

"What is that supposed to mean? I don't understand."

I grin. "You will."

With long limbs it blended in with the trees of the wood. Its dark fur and scaly hide offered it protection and camoflage. Dare not enter the wood for a fool. Its gaping maw easily swallows live deer whole and screaming. Listen carefully for the quiet. It is near then. No creature dare make a sound when it's near. They fear it. None have lived to see its face. But I tell you this; there is a tale of a blind man that has spoken with The Beast. You find him, he can tell you more than me.

... *** ... *** ...

Come, sit, I've been expecting you. Tea? Cakes? My wife makes them for me. She is my eyes. So, you wish to know about The Beast of Overcasture? Why is it called that? Well, because its shadow can make the weather sour and overcast; though it really is not. Hmm? How did I come to know it? I was out in the wood and it drew my attention. That's all. How? I heard it. What? You can't? It speaks so softly that if not for the other life staying still I wouldn't have heard it at all. What does it look like? I'm blind. Did you forget that? What was I doing in the wood? ... I went there to die. Instead I made a deal with The Beast. What kind of deal?

... *** ... *** ...

His face seemed off. The air smelled of static. I look around the small cabin room. There is no sign of any womanly presence. No flowers, no knittings, no sewings. There's no photographs either. The room has suddenly turned darker. When? When did that happen. 'Overcast.' The Beast. I hurriedly get up from my chair and make my way to the door. It doesn't budge. I hear a sipping sound behind me. The blind man is drinking his tea. He shows no worry on his face. His face... I stare in horror as he slowly takes the bandage wrappings from his eyes. Black holes. They're black holes. He smiles. His teeth... Those are not human teeth. I'm trapped.

He opens his mouth and speaks in a wrong voice, "hush now little one, I won't hurt you. Come sit back down, we aren't done talking yet boy."

I gulp. Reluctantly, I sit. The room seems to slow its buzzing. When did that start? I wonder...

"What is it you seek?"

"I....I want to know," I gulp again, "I want to know...." I can't say it. I look down. The man chuckles at me.

"What's the matter boy?" His voice vibrated the table.

I look back up at him. Steeling myself I finally respond. "I want to know what I am."

Silence ensues between us, holding us still. I can hear a soft growling sound. Nay, I feel it.

"Give me your hand." He holds his out to me.

Slowly I put my right hand on top of his. He grabs it with force, causing me to wince. Claws... Since when did he have those? My blood pours out of our hands and onto the table. It's dark. Darker than a human's. He smiles.

"You have the blood of an old one. Blood like mine. You made a deal with Niggath a long time ago. You've forgotten, but blood never forgets. You were once called The Beast of Delleth. You've faded though. You will die within a fortnight. Once that occurs, the you that you are now will be gone, and The Beast in you will return."

"I don't understand. How do you know this?"

"I am Shigon. One who sees all. Past, present, future."

"So that's why a blind man made a deal with you."

"Yes."

"And the wife?"

"An immortal woman that loves us Beasts. Not even I know why or understand her existence. She is not human, and never was. She is no Beast either. We've asked her before, but she speaks not of it."

"What will become of Niggath when it returns?"

He looks away from me. I develop a cold sweat. Suddenly my head feels like it's in a vice. I pull my hand from his and grab my head. I have to throw up. My whole body aches. I see in my mind a looming creature. It looked like an elk, but all wrong. Its legs were too dark and ended in paws. They look scaly and thin. Its head was long, but too wide at the neck. Sharp teeth that glistened white poked out of the sides. Its eyes were too large for its head, and they were a solid red. The antlers came up and out and formed sharp points likened to a briar patch. The fur of its body is dark like the night sky. Do I see stars in it's fur?

With a lurching sensation the vision is gone. And I feel frozen in fear and awe. I can feel my heart pounding, I can hear the rush of blood in my ears. It's too quiet. Quickly I look back up.

The blind man is sitting there, bandages as if undisturbed. He sips his tea and sunlight streams in.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

"What... What just happened?" I pant out.

"You should have some tea, it'll help." He takes a bite of the cake.

I take another look around the room as I grab the cup. There's flowers around the room. When did those get there? Or, were they always there? I take a sip of the tea. Mint. I already feel better. "What happened?"

"You asked me about the deal I made with The Beast. Then I heard you gasping in pain. Then you asked me what happened just now."

"That can't be..."

"Why, do you remember something else?"

I stare at him. "No, sorry, I must have been mistaken. If you'll excuse me, I should return home." I get up and reach the door.

In that horrid voice I hear behind me. "Don't forget, you die in a fortnight."

I snap my head around. The blind man is still sitting there, eating his cake. Slowly I open the door, not taking my eyes from him, and quietly leave.

#monsters

The ball of lavender yarn fell to the floor and rolled.

The little dog went after it.

"Woof!"

Yarn has now unraveled to the kitchen.

Still the ball goes.

"Honey!"

Outside it goes with the children.

They kick it over the fence, into golden light, and burnt yard.

There it rests.

A tug.

More unraveling.

It travels farther away from the old woman.

Towards the Crying House.

Dead hands pick it up from the rotten steps.

In the decayed house it goes.

The only bright color.

They grab at it with knives.

Chop Chop Chop

It continues to roll

Down

Down

Down

To the basement.

Finally it unravels completely.

Tied at the end is an old skeleton key.

A hissing startled Sam awake. They looked up through the Willow branches and into the star studded sky. Slowly Sam sat up on the old quilt. There was no moon in sight now. Nor any sign of the Sun. Odd. It should be up by now. But Sam is not interesting in that now, the hissing has grown louder and deafening. Sam covers their ears and closes their eyes. The Willow branches touch Sam. They can't feel them. The Willow intwines itself with Sam; burrowing into the flesh. Sam screams. Then whimpers as the hissing dies down. Sam looks at the branches coming from their skin. Watches as the blood pools, staining the old quilt an unnatural raspberry red. The stars are coolly watching from the heavens. They offer no help or guidance. The breeze moves the Willow's branches and they rustle and hiss. Sam winces from their movement. Willows are know for their insects. They are drawn to Sam's flesh and blood like moths to the flame. Sam can only watch as they lay immobilized from the Willow's branches. Carefully a spider weaves it's new web. Beetles make their way down the branches and into Sam. It's not long before Sam starts twitching from the insects movements.

The sun never came for Sam again.

Sam was found on the anniversary. They dug up the quilt, and inside resided a strange sight. The roots of the Willow had grown through the body. Bugs had feasted on the corpse. A burrowing spider had made home in a socket. The Willow seemed to take Sam into itself as rumor has it. They say that if you listen closely on windy nights, the Willow will sound like someone screaming bloody murder.

#horror #plantgrowth #insects

First it's fresh. Bright red flows free from the ripped flesh.

It drips to the cold hardwood floor. Staining the rich earth with an almost unnaturally bright red. Brighter than strawberries, richer than raspberries.

drip drip drip

The pool grows bigger with time; the drops become less. Flesh turns blue and hard.

One last sigh before Death comes.

Careful to not step in the puddle Death takes the soul and leaves the scene.

No one comes for days.

He was supposed to be on a trip for the week.

For business he said.

By the time the body was found flies had become maggots. The floor was ruined and stained a deep red wine.

They hid the sygils scratched into it's surface.

Outside a crow cawed.

#blood #crow

With a sigh of peace and tranquility

A hand rises to brush the sky

And leaves rustle with ease

Gingam blanket underneath

Spun of gold and mint

Rests blood wine and meal for two

They gaze from under the willow

Over the quiet hamlet

Venus's belt brings fairy lights

Oh how the lights sparkle

Moving with ease and grace

Dancing with ethereal delight

Laughter twinkles and the universe responds in kind

A calm night in one place and time

Won't last forever

How unfortunate that the skies will still be like this

Even when there's none to watch

But plant and insect

Mother Nature shall reign once more

#nature #melancholy #nostalgia

The air was still. No sound reached my ears. A crow's caw startled me. I watched as it landed on the chain fence before me. Looking around I made sure no one was near, and I marked a tree so that we would remember our meeting place. Once that was done I took the token out of my pocket. The crow cawed, snatched the token, and flew off. In the distance, a siren. Let the trials begin.

**I knew that there was something more to this. I found this looking through one of my notebooks and after I posted it I found what it was for. A friend of mine asked for people to write a story to accompany a photo. Here is the original post: https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10154963441479361&set=a.10151819919184361.1073741828.731424360&type=3

**Also the rest of this story will be for my patrons. https://www.patreon.com/jhorvay

Why don't you stop holding us back?

Act out

Show them what they've done to you

What they are doing to us

Stop holding back!

You'll only hurt yourself more!

But it may be more damaging to act out

Why hurt others when you can do it to yourself?

They don't care about us anyways

Only our friends seem to care

They listen

They respect us

Treat us as fellow humans and individuals

You don't want to hurt them do you?

Of course not

I just want THEM to realize that they are awful human beings!

They are only human by their DNA!

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Doing this is just pissing us off even more

And making us want to cry

To hit

To cut

To see blood

No one cares about you

Not until it affects them

That's when they want you to get help

That's when they start to care

They still can't see what they're doing

What they've done

Of course not

They don't think we're human

They deny that they've said that

But we know

We know

Why don't you stop holding us back?