"Your apology falls on deaf ears Jack, and it's too late to atone now."
"Are you trying to say I'm dead?" Jack asked in a terrified and confused voice.
"Maybe?" Sarah said before cracking a smile. Sarah began cackling the most evil laugh Jack had ever heard.
"Why are you here? What do you want from me?" Said Jack doing his best to sound tough, although anyone who heard the cracking in his voice would have known he was absolutely terrified.
"I told you already Jack I'm here to make you suffer. Truth be told Jack I'm patiently waiting for what's left of your life force to drain away. Once you die completely you'll be in my world and at my mercy!" Sarah let out a shrill high pitched laugh that echoed through the dark woods.
"Why would you do that Sarah?" Jack asked now becoming more aware of the blood hemorrhaging from his left arm and the trickle of blood from his forehead now blocking his vision. "I have a wife to get back to Sarah I haven't even had a chance to start a family."
"Don't preach to me about chances Jack! You took my chance at happiness when I was only 17 years old. You took advantage of my feelings towards you, all so you could go back and tell your friends what a freak I was." Suddenly Sarah was in his face and her face quickly transformed from what she looked like in life into a rotted decaying skull with deep black eye sockets and pieces of rotted flesh clinging to it. The stench of rancid flesh filled Jack's nostrils and lungs. In a whisper that would give the devil himself chills she said, "Tell me, do I look like a freak now Jack?"
"N...N...No." Jack stammered. He was just a tiny bit relieved when her face returned to human form and she backed off. The scent of decay and death was now not so strong. "Am I really going to die here?" Jack asked seemingly no one in particular. As was the case before Sarah had something to say, "Of course you're gonna die here Jack, and I'll be waiting to torture you for the rest of time." Sarah's tone this time was actually very soft calm and even human sounding, which just made it all the more terrifying. Sarah's confidence in getting revenge was mortifying. Suddenly Jack blacked out.
When Jack came to he looked around frantically. There was no sign of Sarah and he breathed a sigh of relief. Jack started to think about how he could get help. His cell phone was not an option as it was still in the truck when the creek rushed in and was no doubt waterlogged and no good. Jack didn't know if his wife Lisa knew which direction he'd driven off in, and Jack didn't know for how long he'd been laying on this creek bank. Jack finally decided if he wanted to be rescued he would have to make it back up the steep embankment to the highway. It took everything Jack had to roll over on his stomach. Jack rested for a moment and then began using his good arm and one good leg to belly crawl to some tree roots that were exposed on the side of the embankment from erosion. Each movement brought Jack tremendous pain, and finally after what seemed like an hour Jack reached up and grasped one of the thick tree roots with his right hand. Suddenly it was there. The smell of decaying flesh and rancid meat returned with a vengeance. Jack began to sob as he wiped the blood from his eyes and looked up. There she was again, Sarah. Although he hated seeing her again he was glad in a sense that she had decided to show herself in human form.
"It's futile Jack, your soul is as good as mine old friend."
"Don't talk to me unless you're going to help me!" Jack said angrily "I've got better things to do than talk to some lonely ghost girl!" Just then as Jack tried to pull himself up by the root it snapped and Jack slid back several feet. Suddenly he was looking up at Sarah, and again she transformed into her half decayed corpse and got right in his face. This time she caressed his cheek as a lover would with her nails which were black, pointy, and over an inch in length just as he imagined a demons claws would be.
"You best be careful how you talk to me Jack. You wouldn't want to have another "accident"
Jack's eyes grew wide as now he understood what had really happened on the highway above. Jack realized he was in a lot more danger than he thought.
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Specter In The Woods
It was a dark and stormy night and Jack was driving down a winding two lane highway. It was raining lightly just as it had been for days. The windshield wipers made a barely audible squeak with each stroke across the windshield of Jack's old Chevy pickup truck. Jack's emotions were running high as he reflected on the heated argument he had just had with his wife that prompted him to leave. Jack had a couple drinks about an hour beforehand and was starting to feel it. The irony is that the main reason for the argument was Jack's drinking problem. Jack was following the rules of the road but his heightened emotion and slight inebriation made this a dangerous ride for Jack. Jack had his phone charging through the trucks old 12 volt cigarette lighter and sitting in the middle of the bench seat. Suddenly Jack's phone chimed and without thinking Jack took one hand off the wheel and picked up the phone. It was a message from his wife Lisa. It started with "I'm sorry..." Jack didn't even get to finish reading the message before he felt something familiar and terrifying. Jack immediately recognized the feeling of loss of control and knew he was hydroplaning. Jack was seized with fear and was desperately wrestling with the steering wheel trying to regain control of the truck. Suddenly the truck came off its wheels on one side and flipped. Jack didn't know what was happening but he did know he was being thrown around the cab of the truck. Jack was sure bones were being broken and he could see alot of blood. The truck had rolled onto it's roof and slid across the pavement and through an old guardrail. The truck rolled a couple of times down the steep embankment before coming to rest upside down in the now roaring creek. Jack knew he was hurt bad but if he didn't escape the truck he would surely drown within minutes. Jack knew he couldn't push the door open the water pressure would be too great. Jack decided to roll down his window. Water rushed in like a waterfall nearly washing Jack to the other side of the cab. Jack used anything he could grip, including, first the steering wheel, and then the window frame, to brace against and pushed himself out. Jack scrambled to shore where he collapsed barely able to breathe and quickly losing blood. Jack knew he was in trouble and he needed to stem the flow of blood. There was too much to know exactly where it was coming from, but he knew it was his left arm and forehead. Jack fought through the pain and reached into his pocket. Jack pulled out a pocket knife and with excruciating pain cut a long strip from his soaked t-shirt. Jack found a stick and rigged up a tourniquet as best he could near the top of his left arm. The exertion from making the tourniquet caused Jack to pass out in his weakened state. Jack regained consciousness some time later. Jack knew it hadn't been too long because it was still very dark. Suddenly he noticed something...or rather someone. A dark silhouette of a woman was standing at his feet. Her outline was clear she was a slim woman with dark hair. Jack was paralyzed with fear, his eyes wide with astonishment. Jack used his shirt to wipe the blood from his brow that was partially obstructing his view. Jack told himself silently that this figure must be a hallucination due to blood loss. Suddenly a rush of wind that seemed to come from everywhere hit Jack and he was struck with a pungent odor he immediately recognized as decaying flesh.
By Billy Rose3 years ago in Horror
Your Gift Shall be Your Death
Preface. Writers are often asked where they start a story: at the beginning, the middle, or the end. Sometimes, there is no answer to this age-old question. Parts of this story may be fact-driven, or it may be just a fantasy or a bad dream driven by a concussion in a serious auto accident. We will let you, the reader, be the judge. One thing is for sure: By the end of this short story, the reader will know it was not created by A.I.
By Bruce Curle `about 19 hours ago in Horror
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