The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Turn to Page 42 For A New Adventure 
by Kendra Smart  

“Don’t look back”

Darkness, save for the flickering, soft glow of the lantern, surrounds you. The occasional sharp bitter wind steals at your breath and chest, cutting the chorus of the legions of bugs that consider this environment perfect for their homes. Save for the creaking old boat that lilts to and fro as the wave softly tosses it. It isn’t going to pull itself in, your first task becomes apparent. No fire to warm you until the work is done. 

“You can do better.”

The sounds of your heart are so loud in your ears, and between that and the ambient noises, it is hard to find the quiet in the great outdoors. But was quiet really what you wanted? You came here for discovery, for clarity, for answers to the questions that had plagued you since hearing the tale of “The Children of the North.” A tribe living the land in cloaked mystery untouched by the technology that had decimated most of the need for the natural elements of the world. No need for the outside when everything came delivered. 

“Will it be enough?”

The rope latches around the stump easily enough, but your cold, achy, numb hands can barely feel it between the cold and the calluses. But this task is now complete, onto the next part of your purpose. 

“Is all the trouble worth it?”

The chatter was alive in your head, all this work on a theory. All evidence pointed to this location of the woods, but no documentation of proof survived. Only the threads and suppositions, talk with no intended actions. But not for you, no, you had to know the truth, and not just the knowledge of someone else’s journey but with your eyes. You had grown tired of living someone’s else’s dream. 

“There’s three of us.”

No backing down now, you were already here. The cabin lay where they had told you it would be. The last stop. The last time to rethink. To make sure everything you could need was prepared for. To make the decision. To turn back. To say…no.

“But you won’t.”

You’ve come so far. Can’t you feel their eyes watching you? They haven’t kept secrets by being unaware of changes and on guard. Naive you, thinking the world was meant to be discovered. That everyone could be met with kindness and open mindedness, what children’s show lied to you? Not every hand is meant to extend. 

“The road to hell is paved…”

The cabin is warmer than you expected. It is a relief to your skin, color and feeling returning. A small meal of soup and bread to revive your energy, rest you know will do the rest. But, sleep proves hard in an unfamiliar bed and in unfamiliar territory. Hyper aware, every sound makes your heart race and your adrenaline rev. But the cabin holds warmth, and soon sleep is no longer a choice. 

“Sleep Time, Open Portal.”

 The snow crunches outside and your eyes whip open. Morning. The snow aids the sun in shining brighter. You get yourself together, placing your extra battery packs in your bag along with your food for travel. If all goes well you will see this cabin again. The rickety boat. Another day. 

“Pray they are just figments, nothing more.”

Camera on. You make your way into the woods. It’s much colder than the sun made it seem. The live feed is abuzz with chatter, look at you doing what you only watched before. 

“A veritable Where’s Waldo? of horrors.”

Your audience could see them. But they had the ability to pause and scour the surroundings. You don’t have that luxury in real time. You had no idea what you were up against. Ill prepared.  An idealist without knowledge, without experience. But you found what you were aiming for. 

These people wanted solitude, not the outside world. This is their land. 

The Children of the North want nothing you have to offer. You are an invasion. A blotch. 

Your words don’t have time to make sound. Everything is so quick. The small stab of pain forgotten in panic. Blood rushing. Can’t stay calm.

“You’re only making it worse.”

The paralytic hits your bloodstream and fate chimes a loud chord as a choice has been fulfilled. 

“You serve a purpose.”

Death doesn’t come quick. They have learned to preserve their food. Unable to move, the knife comes towards your chest as you are hung by your feet. 

Pain.

Flames.

Pain. 

Warmth. 

The Darkness is back. 

Another chord sounds. 

“Don’t look back.”

A soft white light flickers as a cold wind blows. 

It’s time to pull in the boat.

.

Fiction © Copyright Kendra Smart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from author Kendra Smart:

Just Emotions:
A Gothic Bite Magazine Anthology

A collection of poetry.

‘Just Emotions‘ is exactly as it states, a group of writers who had feelings they wanted to express in poem form. Inside, there are a range of emotions to explore. Each writer has given a bit of themselves to you, each in their own way.

We hope that you enjoy these writings and that among the poems you may find some thing you can identify with or relate to. Thank you for giving us this chance to open the catacombs and share with you.

Available on Amazon!