The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

To See
by Elizabeth H. Smith

Joan didn’t think much of the old glasses she found while hiking in the Rockies. It was a trip she took at least twice a year, sometimes more, and there was unfortunately always something left behind by a careless fellow traveler. She let out a sigh and picked up the glasses. It irked her when people left their presence in the few untainted places of beauty that still existed in the world.

She normally put any refuse she found into a prepared bag brought along just for that purpose. But the glasses tingled in her hand. They sent warm waves of electricity through her fingers, which traveled up her arm, finally spreading throughout her body. The uncontrollable urge to put them on came over her. With there being no reason to resist she could think of, she did just that.

Though the glass was cracked on both lenses, she could see clearly, as though they weren’t damaged at all. In fact, it was the clearest she’d ever seen. Every color, every grain, each and every beam of sunlight showed itself in full and indescribable detail. The magnetic field of the Earth appeared in the sky. The scent trails of insects and fauna streamed along the ground and through the air. She saw spectrums human eyes weren’t meant to see.

She pulled them off her eyes and blinked. The world around her looked normal again.

Not only the call of these strange glasses urged her, but now curiosity as well. She put them back on and stared in awe at the wonderous sights revealed. A new scent trail appeared. It looked different from the others. And it, like the spectacles, called to her. Her feet stepped forward in line with the ebbing and flowing residue of whatever took this path.

As she followed, her nose picked up something as well. An odor she couldn’t recognize. Not foul, not pleasant, just…different. This led her off the main trail she normally walked, and off into unmarked territory. The scent became stronger as she made her way through the brush and mat of fallen, long-dead leaves.

At the end of this trail, the entrance to a cave yawned before her, concealing its insides in darkness. Joan threw her pack around front and retrieved her flashlight. With a deep breath, and a beam to guide her way, she entered.

The air inside was moist and the neutral scent she followed grew unbearably strong. But the unexplainable drive she felt kept her legs moving forward, deeper, closer.

The sound of labored breathing made her quiet her steps and search with her light. The bearer of that scent trail stood at the end of the cave, waiting. The flashlight reflected off its hungry eyes. Its flesh drooped in gruesome folds. It looked as though some kind of fungus grew from the cracks and it was covered in mud and filth. A pile of bones sat behind it, every morsel of flesh stripped from them.

Joan’s first thought was to run, but the thing she found was too fast. The glasses fell from her eyes and crashed to the ground as she was grabbed by a massive hand wrapped around her waist. She was lifted from the ground, and feet first, gnawed slowly to death as the cave-dwelling monstrosity had its next meal.

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Fiction © Copyright Elizabeth H. Smith
Image Copyright Rie Sheridan Rose

More About Elizabeth H. Smith:
Elizabeth H. Smith is a storyteller who writes while trying to keep her cat, Luna off the keyboard. The musical group, Rasputina is her muse. She was born in the state of New York and would never feel at home anywhere else.