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(though trying my best to stick to the "no excessive violence" rule, this one might be a bit... unsettling to read.)
(Warning: spook. boo. bye.)
(681 words)
Joe hummed as he walked, his shoes tapping a steady beat against the asphalt. To his left sat rows of suburban housing, moths fluttered around porch lights and the street lamps lining the road. To his right, a dense forest wafted the scent of pine through the air. Joe wasn't bothered by rumored sightings of bears or coyotes along this road, because on this warm summer night, the road felt like a bridge between worlds.
As he walked up a steep hill, he recalled seeing roadkill up ahead, on his way out. A fox or something, poor thing. He made a mental note to make sure he didn't step on it.
But nearing the summit, he heard something strange. It could have been a car or a lawnmower with a broken engine, or maybe dogs fighting. It did sound an awful lot like growling.
What he saw, at the top of that hill, was not a dog.
He didn't know what it was that lurked just a bus-length away. It was huge and appeared to be hunched over, barely illuminated by a flickering street lamp, as if the dark matted hair which covered it swallowed up all light. But it was the source of the noise, that much Joe could tell. It uttered low grunts and growls as it tore at something with unseen claws and teeth, though Joe caught a glimpse of rust-colored fur.
The creature stopped, letting out a guttural huff, and raised its head. It... Its head was a skull. Not the skull of any animal Joe had seen, but the impossibly clean bone shone against the surrounding darkness, antlers like gnarled branches jutting from the sides of its head. Its jaw hung open, still dripping with bits of its interrupted feast, and empty eye sockets stared back at Joe.
He didn't move. Though every muscle screamed at him to run, by some miracle, he couldn't move. He stood still as death, barely breathing, as the creature studied him. Could it even see him? It didn't seem to have eyes. But the chill that ran through Joe's bones told him that he was indeed being studied.
After what felt like an eternity, the creature bowed its head and continued eating. Joe's joints loosened, but he knew better than to run. He could still see those eyeless sockets, and knew deep down that they saw him.
So he waited. He waited while the creature ate, wincing at every awful noise that sent shivers down his spine. He wanted to shut his eyes against the sight before him, but he couldn't bring himself to look away from the creature.
He didn't want it to know he wasn't watching.
Eventually, it finished its meal. Leaving the pile of bones and fur that had once been a fox, the creature stood up. At its full height, nearly as tall as a house, Joe could clearly see its almost humanoid thin frame, and the ribs which pushed against the skin like they were trying to escape from its shriveled torso.
The creature cast one last withering look at Joe before it turned and strode into the forest, each step covering a great distance, its long arms swinging at its sides, nearly trailing the ground. It disappeared into the inky blackness, and it wasn't long before even the sound of the trees creaking as it passed faded.
Joe let out a shuddering breath. The air was cold and his legs felt like they may give out on him. After several minutes, he turned around and walked back down the hill.
As he made his way home by a different route, he tried to ignore the silence. Even the buzz of cicadas was gone. He tried to ignore the forest that was lost to the shadows just a few yards in.
He tried to ignore it when he heard trees creaking.
He tried to ignore the way the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. The feeling that he was being followed. Watched.
