No-one would suspect a little girl. Surely not- why would they? A tiny pip-squeak of a girl, with a bright, floral-patterned dress, rosy cheeks and stubby fingers could hardly over power the gentle giant of a man that was found ravaged at the bank of a lake by what seemed to be a feral animal. A cavity in his chest- filled with soil, a single cornflower sprouting off-centre, basking in the golden sunlight, blissfully unaware of the atrocity of nature below it, suggested otherwise.
But, as they watched the scene caught on the security camera unfold before them, well, appearances can be deceiving. The little girl, with eyes that told stories of the forest in many different hues, and hair like spun gold, had led this man to his death. Innocent was no word to describe her, but when casting one's eyes upon her- it's the only word that seemed to fit. Everyone appeared to be... entranced, by her.
And her victim was no outlier to this pattern. When he walked out the supermarket on that fateful, dry, summer evening, he wasn't expecting to be met by a child with such a powerful aura around her, such allure. His paternal instincts had kicked in almost immediately, and had inquired upon the whereabouts of her parents. Surely he'd recognise them, if they had the same multitonal blonde locks, or those bright, clover eyes. Or that same luminous presence, of something completely out of, and one with, this Earth. Beautifully terrifying.
Even as he followed her out into the woods, his concern for this little girl ever rising, not once had the thought ever occurred to him that he may not make it out alive- that it may be a trap. And holy hell, it was.
But he didn't know this, so off he trot, catching up with her, taking her little, pudgy hand in his own, coarse, builders one, unwittingly sealing his fate further with every uncharted step he took.
The woods were truly a wonder in the day- flowers of every colour and scent, kissing and teasing your senses, birds and squirrels and foxes voicing their contentment, sing-song tunes gracing your ears. But in the dark- it could be something from a different storybook entirely, owls shrieking, demanding you leave their territory be, unseen nettles and branches clawing at your ankles hungrily as the moonlight chased spider-like shadows across your vision. And yet, she looked like she fit in here, in this storybook of horrors. Because she did.
(Words: 418)
YOU ARE READING
A collection of short stories
General Fictionit's just for a horror-comedy workshop my school is doing here's a few of my works hope you enjoy (:
