Such A Fine Son
Wendy Wheeler’s flashlight cast a feeble glow through the darkness. The path, etched through the woods by the feet of hundreds of children, would eventually cross Main Street in Waterville. Town Crest Village, the housing project where Wendy lived, loomed behind her on the brink of Coca-Cola Ledge.
Wendy skipped lightly over tree roots and rocks, her thoughts already down on the streets with her friends. She loved the city streets; there was always some kind of excitement going on in town. If Ma only knew . . .
“Don’t ever take the path after dark, Honey,” Ma had said so many times.
“Heaven knows what perverts sleep in those woods. I shudder to think about it.”
But Wendy took the path many times after dark and had never encountered a soul. She usually giggled down the path with Sophie Freedman, but tonight her best friend was at choir rehearsal.
With Sophie along, Wendy had never noticed how quiet the path was, or how the tree branches seemed to reach out towards her as she skipped past. A vague feeling of alarm tugged at the tiny hairs on the back of Wendy’s neck just before her flashlight sputtered and died. She stopped dead on the murky Path. A faint breeze rattled tall branches overhead, like fingernails tapping. Wendy bit down hard on her lower lip.
Trying to rationalize her fear, she peered anxiously about in the gloom.
There! Did something move?
As she was about to sprint off like a frightened rabbit, the dark clouds above parted. The silver mottled moon beamed through a hexagon in the tree branches touching her surroundings with shimmer blight. Small white moths fluttering before her in the moonbeam eased Wendy’s thudding heartbeat. She let out a sharp caw of relief.
After a few hesitant steps, however, the clouds captured the moonlight plunging her once again into darkness. At the sudden eclipse, a tiny sound of fear escaped her lips making her jump involuntarily.
Up ahead on the path, the darkness seemed to boil and twitch.
The sharp snap of a twig.
There was definitely someone on the path. Visions of dirty street people flashed through Wendy’s mind. Old looking men wrapped in newspapers, their rheumy eyes peeking out to watch the streets.
“Heaven knows what perverts sleep in those woods. I shudder . . .
I shudder . . .” Ma’s words echoed into her fear. “Not after dark . . . perverts sleep in those woods . . . I shudder . . . I shudder . . .”
Wendy’s fear turned into blind panic as the snapping of twigs grew louder.
Blindly, she turned and bolted. Whoever was coming up the path, sounded big.
Heavy breathing and grunting noises thundered closer. Trees crackled and branches thrashed as the quaking footfalls closed in.
Something solid struck Wendy between the shoulder blades. The loud thud rang in her ears as she lost her footing and sprawled into a bed of crunchy leaves.
The clouds thinned, triggering a faded grayish light.
Wendy rolled over to face her attacker. The sight of the beast overwhelmed her young brain, crippling her mind and body: blue-gray eyes glassed over, lithe body sagged. Watching the scene as though from afar, Wendy Wheeler’s mind overloaded in its final attempt to shield her from the horror.
The beast, bear-like and slobbering, was no mere pervert. Thick dark fur covered most of its body. Claws, like mini daggers sprouted from almost human fingers. Yellow fangs coursed twin rivers of saliva over a heavily bearded chin. The creature’s chest and abdomen were leathery pink and strangely hairless ending in a massive erection. Huge dark sunken eyes held a look of madness as it roared and grabbed the prone girl.
Shaking her like a rag doll, the monster tore the clothes from her limp body.
With an inhuman animal lust it penetrated the girl. A single high shrill scream issued from her blue lips driving the attacker to a fevered frenzy of biting, clawing and thrusting. Evil seeds discharged, the monster stood and gazed down into Wendy’s wide blue-gray eyes. Tears and snot mixed with the girl’s blood and fell from the creature’s face leaving ragged pink dots on her naked flesh. Balefully, the thing raised its massive head to the moon and moaned with hopeless anguish.
A police siren wafting up through the tangle of trees brought the beast to a wary crouch.
From her broken body, the tortured blue-gray eyes of Wendy Wheeler watched the beast flee into the shadowy forest. With it went her soul.
Continued . . .
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