Rough... covered in cobwebs. Don't freak.
Grip the board, force fingers into gaps too small, eyes open painfully wide and staring at darkness. A deep breath and pull.
A crack. It's working! Desperate tugs, you can see now, the light creeps in... don't look round. Footsteps scuff then fall silent outside the door.
A strangled, fearful sob escapes your lips. One more tug at the board rips it from the frame. Weak light fills the room. Stagger backwards, drop the board... Behind you the door handle turns, look away back to the window.
The face appears suddenly, looming at the glass! The eyes are hollow, the mouth twisted into a grin, you stare, frozen in terror. A heavy hand falls on your shoulder.
Scream.
The Beach
by Jo Robertson
We walked along the beach, me and you,
like we had thousands of times before;
the tide was low and we slid
down the rolling shelves of pebbles.
We were alone, not together that time,
the wind caressed
the empty space where we used to lock together.
Words were said and I ran up the hill of stones
away from you and the sea behind you.
I saw it touch you, hold
your legs like new lovers touch each other
lightly.
As I ran, you tried to follow me;
You couldn't climb the shelf of stones.
I watched as the pebbles slipped silently into
your battered shoes.
If I had waited for you to pull yourself up,
we both would have fallen.
It's better this way.
We Saw Him
by Joleen Kuyper
I walked past him but I wasn't the only one who did. She almost tripped as she tried to pretend she hadn't seen him, that he wasn't there.
We didn't talk about it. We didn't talk about anything really. Just the weather. Dreary.
Over coffee, we glanced at each other, knowing we'd have to speak of it, of him, if our eyes met.
"You saw him," she said, her voice trembling as much as the hand she used to wipe the cappuccino froth off her top lip.
I didn't answer for a moment. I sighed. A tear began to build up in her eye. "I saw him," I admitted. She wiped the tear away.
"I thought it would stop," she mumbled. "After what we did. I thought it had stopped." She stared into the empty cup, and at her fingernails, avoiding my eyes again.
"Yeah," I sighed, thinking about taking her hand to comfort her. "I don't know what else to do," I said. It was the truth. I was an enthusiast, not an expert. Well, I had been an enthusiast.
"If it doesn't stop, I'll kill myself," she said.
I shook my head. "Don't say that," I told her.
"It's not an empty threat. I mean it," she shrugged. The gesture seemed so matter of fact for the statement that went with it. It brought a lump to my throat. I knew she wasn't lying.
"You were able to ignore him today," I protested. "That's good."
The tear was starting to form again. She made no move to wipe it away. "I almost broke my neck," she replied.
"Stop," I told her. "Just stop. So we saw him. So what?"
"So he's still watching us," she said. The tear rolled down her cheek, followed by another. "He's never going to stop, never going to leave us alone."
"Maybe we just need to forget about him," I suggested, wishing she would wipe the tears away.
More tears, on both cheeks now. I was suddenly feeling more anger than pity. "How, when he's there all the time?" she asked.
"Jesus, I don't know," I snapped. "Just ignore him! Talk to each other, look at each other, not off into the shadows!"
"It wasn't a shadow he was in today. It was broad daylight!" she argued back.
"So?" I asked, raising my voice. "He's just there. He can't talk to us. Can't hurt us. He has no goddamn power! So let him stand staring wherever he wants!"
She burst into tears, I realised people were looking at us. Judging us. Affair, I read in their gazes. If only they knew...
?
Four months earlier, we had met through a website. Chatted online for a while. Found we had a lot in common. It was a month before we realised we lived near each other. Arranged to meet for coffee. Wandered around together, visited the shops in the old part of town, where no one we knew would see us.
"I've always wanted to try it," she confided in me as she leafed through the heavy book with the leather cord binding, when we were back in my house.
"Me too." I grinned like a schoolboy. "It could be fun to try it, together."
"You know all the precautions we have to take?" she asked.
"Of course," I replied. I was pretty sure I did...I had read that chapter, once. Some time ago.
"You prepare then," she said, handing me the book. I skimmed through it, set up the room.
He was magnificent, when he appeared. When we made him appear. We felt powerful that night. Like gods. His skin glowed a bright orange, but the fire in his mouth was white hot.
It was only when I realised my clothes were singed that I realised I'd missed a step in the binding. Her hand caught fire as he broke free of the circle. I uttered the rest of the words as I fumbled in the book, but it was too late to make him go away completely. Too late to banish him.
She saw him more than I did, at the start. Lurking, watching. He seemed half gone, transparent. He couldn't hurt us, but he was there.
We went to an expert. She did everything she could. We thought it was enough. Until today, when we saw him as we walked down the street.
?
She threw her things into her handbag and left the cafe. I had to pay the bill, and when I got to the street I couldn't see her. I called her name, but there was no answer.
I guessed left, and hurried off in that direction. Thought she might have gone to catch a train. I didn't want to leave things like that. It was my fault more than hers, though she was taking it harder. Finding it more difficult to cope.
A throng of people stood along the platform. I felt a wave of nausea come over me as I pushed through them. Below on the tracks was her body. Standing over it, looking menacingly at me, there he was.
Around the Campfire
by E.J. Tett
The fire crackles and flames dance
orange and yellow and red.
The clouds reveal the moonlight
and wolves howl in distant woods.
Darkness has descended here
and things come out in the night.
Warnings to all, beware the night
for things come out to dance.
Strange things that exist around here
with fangs and eyes all red.
Evil creeps from the dark woods
and it rejoices in the moonlight.
These creatures bathe in moonlight,
dark creatures of the night.
Only by day do they stay in the woods,
night is their time to dance.
So hide behind the fire so red,
rest assured of your safety here.
Stay, stay, stay, we're all safe here?
Everything's lit by moonlight!
The flames of the fire burn orange and red
and give light to the darkness of night.
Don't be afraid, we can still dance.
Just please keep away from the woods.
Terrible things happen in the woods,
things that don't happen out here
while flames from our fire still flicker and dance?
The clouds cover the moonlight
and once more we're plunged into night.
Through the trees the eyes glow red?
The fire still burns though now blue not red
And sinister things emerge from the woods.
Pray for the morning and the end of the night
when we'll be free
from all things here.
Clouds move once more to reveal the moonlight
and the creatures come forth to dance.
They dance, and kill, and red blood glistens
in the moonlight. The creatures from the woods
are here and feast long into the night.
Omen
by Jo Robertson
When Ruth saw the whale she knew it was an omen. It had beached itself on the wide stretch of sand and was already being circled by gulls. Too late to save it now, she smiled ruefully.
The sun had disappeared days ago, replaced by a brooding grey half-light. Mist caressed the edge of the cottage and crept stealthily under the doors to the kitchen. She had tried to counter the creeping darkness by leaving all the lights on. But when the electricity sputtered and died she had to admit defeat. She had cried in the empty grey-light, her voice carrying all the way across the expanse of sands outside the cottage.
There were still birds, the gulls had proven that. But her dogs and cats had succumbed to the infection three weeks ago. She hadn't seen any other humans since the televisions went to static a week and a half ago. Still she had continued to switch it on, half-expecting Eastenders to continue when the world around it was dying.
The cottage was isolated on the peninsula. Originally she'd thought that was why she hadn't become ill. But that was before Karen.
They'd watched the television together as the Prime Minister urged people not to panic. He looked rheumy and cold in the broadcast; his skin was a dull grey. Karen had told her she'd seen on the internet how this had all started - apparently there had been a meteor and the government had hushed it up. Ruth had laughed at her and told her not to believe the crap they post on those blogs. But now, in the strange half-light of the dawn she believed it completely.
Karen had died the