Reads: 178  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 19, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 19, 2017



Rain poured over the streets. Water dripped from the trees and rolled off onto concrete, constantly moving. A splash could be heard as a man stepped into a giant puddle of water. He kept walking even though his entire heel had been dipped in water. His shoes trenched and water dripping from his hat, he walked. The streets were empty. The only noise came from the rain and thunder above. There was occasional bolts of lightning across the sky. No matter what, the man kept walking. Suddenly a voice was heard. The man stopped walking and stood in the pouring rain.

“You are almost there, David”. Said the voice. David resumed walking. About a mile later David was walking up the steps of what looked like an abandoned house. There were broken windows and gusts of winds swung open doors and torn curtains.

“Good. Now step inside and have a look around.” Said the voice. David opened the door and the wind quickly slammed it behind him. The house looked partly charred and black. David’s first impression was that a fire took place here. However it looked like the fire was maintained and put out before it did extensive damage to the foundation. There was a staircase as you walked in, a living room to the left, and a kitchen in the back. He looked around the downstairs area looking for any information. David held his rifle tight to his chest. There was a bookcase in the living room but it was empty. Someone must’ve taken all the books with them. There was nothing in the kitchen except a broken fridge. There wasn’t any stove or dining table. David decided it was time to go upstairs and look some more. With every step the step under his foot would creak. He dreaded every noise he made for he feared the possibility that this house was still inhabited.

Once David reached the top of the stairs he noticed two things right away, two doors leading into two rooms and a lone feather on the ground. He picked up the feather and tucked it away in his pocket. He checked the first room and slowly opened the door. There was nothing inside, not a thing. Only the scratched up wood floors and a broken window. He closed the door, making sure the pressure would not slam it closed. He checked the next door which turned out to be the bathroom; useless. David was all ready to give up.

“Look up”. Said the voice. David did so and realized that there was an attic right above him. He pulled it open and carefully rolled down the stairs to get up. David was a very good sneak and didn’t make a noise walking up to the attic. His blood was pumping and his knuckles were turning white, clutching his rifle. He reached the top to find a large attic covered by wood. At the very end you could see an large open window with curtains flailing in the wind. A chair sat right in front of the window. That chair was not empty, a man was sitting in that chair.

David walked closer to the figure in the chair. He was now very afraid his pulse would give him away. Only a couple of feet away David saw scars on the back of the man’s head. The man was bald and was wearing a trench coat. David took another step. Suddenly the figure rose from the chair, discarded his coat, and large wings protruding from his back spread across the room. David was shocked.

“KILL HIM!” Screamed the voice. David quickly got a hold of his rifle and aimed it at the creature. The creature stepped out of the window and lifted himself into the sky. David rushed over to the window and continued aiming. He could see the creature flying towards the dark clouds then held his breath and shot at it. The creature quickly peeled right and into the clouds as the bullet flyed past him. It was gone.

“I missed”, said David. “You will cross paths again. Look inside that second drawer”. Said the voice. There was an old, black, filing cabinet to David’s right. He opened up the second drawer and found a single manilla folder labeled, “Molt”

© Copyright 2018 ARG. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Mystery and Crime Short Stories