The Cold Crest Lodge

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

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The Cold Crest Lodge


Cold Crest Lodge Security. 9:48 p.m.

In a surveillance room, A weary security guard slumps heavily into a chair as a loud voice comes through the speaker. 

“Assistance needed in cabin 13. Assistance needed in cabin 13.”

“Ugh. You gotta be kidding me.”

Static fills the room as a female voice speaks through the walkie-talkie. 

“Hey Frank, think you can handle cabin 13? We’ve got a party happening in the banquet room so we’ve got limited bodies on the floor tonight.”

Frank rubs the sleep from his eyes and sighs, before feigning energy and responding.

“Sure thing, boss. I’m on it.”

With great effort, Frank rises and adjusts his security belt, complete with his key ring, a flashlight, baton, and handcuffs. With a deep breath, he dons his scarf and winter jacket before making his way toward cabin 13. 



Cabin 13. 9:54 p.m.

Frank approaches cabin 13 and knocks on the door. 

“Lodge security,” he calls out firmly, receiving no answer. He looks into the window but sees nothing. “Hello? You called for Lodge Security?” Frank knocks a few more times but is only met with silence. Turning away, he speaks through his walkie. 

“Hey Bradley, I’m at cabin 13 but it looks like no one's home.”

Static emits from the device. 

“Bradley? If you can hear me I think the cabin 13 call was a dud so I’m going to head on ho–”

The hinges creak. Hairs prickling along his nape, Frank turns to the now open door, empty. Tentatively stepping forward, Frank reaches blindly for the lightswitch, flipping it to no effect. 

“Hm.. gotta call maintenance in the morning.” 

He turns on his flashlight. “Hello?” Shuddering, his voice echoes through the dark cabin. “Hm.” He walks inside and squints,  the flashlight’s scope illuminating only small circles of light. The flashlight flickers, losing battery. “Ah shit, come on…” 


Frank’s flashlight clatters to the ground at the child-like voice springing from the silence.

“Jesus christ… whew.” Regaining his composure, Frank picks up the flashlight and shines it toward the voice. “Uh, Hello! You called for assistance? I’m with Lodge security.” 

“Yes… I- I’m upstairs.” 

“Are you hurt? Where are your parents?”

“I don’t know… Please help me.”

Brushing aside his uneasiness, Frank hurries up the stairs.

“It’s going to be alright! I’m coming up to get you, okay? Just hang tight.”

In the dim light, Frank hits the ground with a thud at the top of the stairs.

“What the hell…?” Shining his flashlight, a horrendous stench invades Frank’s nostrils. The light reflecting off a pool of thick, red, streaking fluid.

“Oh my god…” Frank says, covering his mouth.

Following the blood trail, he discoversa torn pant leg. He breathes deeply, studying the remains of what was once a woman. Her stomach is torn, and her limbs are bent unnaturally with large jagged bites taken from them… He holds back vomit, trying to find her face. What remains of it lies frozen in silent screams. Flies cling to her flesh and eyes, the sight unbearably gruesome.

“Jesus H. Christ…” To Frank’s dismay, he vomits over the railing of the stairs. Wiping his mouth, he coughs, his voice raspy. “Little girl? Where are you?”

“I’m in here, please.”

Following the voice with his flashlight, Frank finds a silhouette sitting in a chair facing away from the door. Evading the corpse carefully, he rushes inside the door. “It’s okay now. I’m here. Can you get up?”

Turning the chair around, he is met by the mangled corpse of a young girl, no more than 7 or 8. Frank cries out, backing away. The tiny frail frame echoing the disemboweled corpse in the hallway. Trembling, Frank fumbles for his walkie-talkie. A nasty squelch sounds out behind him, hot breath suddenly on his neck. The crying girl’s false voice emits behind him. 

“Hello, mister.”


Chevrolet SUV. 9:03 a.m.

“Hey, bud?” Looking into the rearview mirror, Chris sees Jayce with his AirPods in, his face in his phone. 

 “Buddy? Ahem. JAYCE!” 

Jayce sluggishly pulls out an AirPod. “What?”

“Your mother and I want to enjoy this trip with you as a family. Get some bonding time in, you know? Why don’t we go snowboarding or skiing together?”

“Sounds boring. I’ll just stay in the room and play games with my friends.”

Chris’s whitened knuckles grip the wheel. 

“Actually sport, I wasn’t asking. This is a family vacation. We will be doing things as a family. And that means no phones.”


“No phones during our time at the lodge. It’s just a few days and-”

“What the fuck, dad! That’s not fucking fair I-”

“LANGUAGE, young man!” Barbera gasps, turning in  the front passenger seat. “It’s for your own good. We found your report card, Jayce. Hiding it in the trash?” she scoffs. Don’t think you can just get away with an F in math without repercussions.” 

“But mom, that’s not my fault! Mrs. Parker hates me and she’s a bitch who just-”


Chris slams on the breaks. 

“Now you listen to me, young man. This whole tough guy “nothing is fair” act ends RIGHT NOW. We are going to enjoy this family vacation with no phones, and no complaints. When we get back home we’ll talk about that F in math. Am I clear?”

Jayce looks down.

“Am. I. clear?”

Jayce sighs exaggeratedly before making eye contact with his dad. 


“Thank you.”



Cold Crest Lodge. 4:23 p.m.

Chris, Barbera, and Jayce enter a gorgeous cabin suite. Breathtaking wood carvings cover the rustic room, with king-sized beds, huge bathroom, balcony complete with a private jacuzzi, and a huge flat screen tv. Chris places a box on the table labeled “phones” before putting his Blackberry inside. Barbera follows suit. Jayce groans dramatically and drops his bag before reluctantly putting his phone in the box. Chris smiles.

“Alrighty. Now how about we see that mountain?”


“That’s the spirit Jayce! I promise it’ll be fun!” Chris gives Barbera a thumbs up, and she returns it, locking the cabin behind them.



Ski Lift. 5:09 p.m.

Covering the valley like a blanket, the fluffy snow coats the tall evergreen trees.  The whirring of the ski lift echos, taking the family higher and higher up the mountain. Echoes of laughter and cheers from the skiers below causes Jayce to smile.

Stepping  off the ski lift, Jayce’s entire boot sinks deeply into the snow. Jayce swiftly  pelts a snowball at his dad. 

“Hey dad, I’ll race ya!”

Chris smiles widely. 

“You’re on!”

“WOOOOOOOOO!” Jayce cheers, zooming down the mountain as they race side by side. Jayce takes the lead, only to be quickly passed by Chris.

Seeing an offshoot, Jayce swiftly turns, racing down the path with fewer trees. Picking up speed, he passes his dad, sure of his victory. Suddenly, Jayce notices the brilliantly white snow on this path is tainted first by dots, and then streaks of red. Chris reaches the bottom, cheering out. 

“WOOHOO! I WIN! I thought for sure you were going to win, Jayce!” Met with no response, Chris lifts his ski goggles. “Jayce? Where’d you go?” 

“DAD!!!” Chris and Barbara look at each other, before hurrying toward the panicked cry.

“Dad dad dad I think he…there’s a lot of blood I... I was just trying to be faster I- I didn’t expect…” Jayce mumbles incoherently, as they take in the scene.

Old dried blood paints the snow and surrounding trees as Jayce leans over what was once a man. His throat torn open, bloody claw marks behind his ripped clothes. The shattered neck tilting, its frozen screaming face toward the shivering Jayce and away from its own mangled torso. 

“Hey hey hey, come here. It’ll be okay. Let’s go inform guest services.” Jayce melts into Chris’s arms, tears coating his father’s jacket. 



Guest Services. 5:47 p.m.

“Well hi there, how can I help you?” A warm southern voice belonging to the younger blond woman at the desk greets them. Seeing Jayce’s tear-stained face, her smile twists to concern. “Oh my, is anyone hurt?”

Chris approaches the woman to whisper. 

“Um... My son found something on the side path of the ski mountain… We found something awful… He’s dead.”

The woman gasps and covers her mouth. “Oh my god! Yes of course… . I’m so sorry you had to see that oh gosh…” Stumbling, she picks up the Rolodex, flipping through cards. “Here we go…”

Lifting the landline phone, she dials a number. “That’s weird…” Tracing the wire of the phone, she confirms it’s plugged in, hangs up, and tries again. 

“Um…Any of y’all got a cell phone I can borrow?”

Chris laughs nervously. 

“Uh… no actually. This is a no-technology vacation.”

“Hmmm…” The woman begins to type on her computer when the lights flicker out and the mechanical whirring of the ski lift ceases. 

“What in the world… hang tight folks. I think I have some flashlights around here somewhere.”

Returning a few minutes later, the woman holds a flashlight and a walkie-talkie. “Lodge Security? This is Stacey in guest services. Can anybody hear me? We have an emergency.”

Hearing only static, she shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

“Again this is Stacey in guest services. We have an emergency. Is anyone there?”

Several moments later, a voice finally cuts through the static. 

“Hey Stacey. This is Frank with security. What kind of emergency?”

“We’ve lost power, and we need to send medical and security to the winter wolf trail. A couple of our guests found a uh.. body. Dead.”

“Why don’t you send 'em’ over to Cabin 13 and I’ll talk to ‘em.”

Confused, Stacey responds.

“Hey uh, Frank? Cabin 13 is actually closed for renovations. Did you mean cabin 12?”

Receiving no answer, Stacey tries again. “Frank? You there?”

Stacey looks to the family. 

“Hm. Why don’t you folks sit tight and I’ll go see if I can track down Bradley, head of security.” Moving toward the door, Stacey points to a cocoa cart. “Help yourself to some hot cocoa!”



Guest Services. 6:13 p.m.

Jayce, Barbera, and Chris hold the “Cold Crest Lodge” mugs tightly, sipping their cocoa. 

“She’s been gone quite a while, hasn’t she?” Barbera asks, her leg bouncing restlessly.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Probably just having trouble finding Bradley, that’s all.” Chris assures her.

Suddenly, A bloodcurdling scream reverberates throughout the mountain. Barbara lurches and drops her cocoa mug, spilling the hot contents over herself and the floor. 

“Ah fuck…What was that???” 

The family hurriedly looks to the window. Crowds of people dispersing in a desperate, screaming scramble. 

“What the hell is going on out there? Are we having an avalanche??” 

“Dad? Isn’t that Stacey?”

Outside a bloodied, crying Stacey runs wildly toward the Lodge. 

Stepping out, Chris calls to her. 



Behind Stacey, the forest creaks and parts, snow falling and branches crashing. A tall, monstrous beast emerges. Its fur, maw, and claws coated red as it barrels toward Stacey on all fours, leaving crimson streaks behind it. Stacey sprints for her life, the beast closing in on her. 

Running forward, Chris holds out a trembling hand. Reaching out, Stacey grazes desphis fingers desperately, before being speared through her stomach .Blood drips down Chris’s stunned face, the beast’s large claws protruding from Stacey’s abdomen. In an instant, her limbs and innards are torn ferociously, Chris instinctually dashing inside. 

Frozen in fear, Barbara watches the creature’s rapid dismemberment of Stacey, and lets out a shriek. Hearing Barbera’s screams, the creature lifts its blood covered maw in the direction of the sound. 

In a mad dash, Chris shuts the door as quick as he can, hardly holding it closed as the creature screeches and bangs at the door. Thinking quickly, Jayce grabs the chair Stacey had been sitting in and runs over to prop it against the door. 

Screeching, the beast struggles against the door. 

“That’ll hold it, but not for long! We have to get out of here!” Looking for another way out, Jayce runs to the back of the cabin.

“Look! There’s a side door!” Jayce whispers out, the splintering of the chair’s legs now audible. Chris looks at Barbara and Jayce.

“We have to run.”

“R-Run? Chris, I can’t run I-I-I- they killed her they… she... I -”

“Barbera honey look at me.”

The screeching and clawing grow louder.

“You have to promise me that no matter what you will keep running until you reach the lobby. Can you do that for me?”

Holding back sobs, Barbara nods, whimpering. 

“Okay good. I’m going to count to three, okay? One… ” Jayce and Barbara brace themselves.

“Two…” Chris puts a hand on the door knob. 

“THREE!” Chris yanks the door open, as one of the legs of the chair snaps.



Courtyard. 6:23 p.m.

Barbera, Jayce, and Chris pant, the lobby building of the lodge coming into view. Bodies line the snowy ground, hanging from trees and lodging fixtures. The once white snow now red from gore, the beast’s thundering steps closely trailing the fleeing family.

Reaching the door, Barbara tugs on the locked handle. 


Yelling through tears, Barbara knocks and pounds against the door. Jayce follows suit. 


The three slam against the door as hard as they can, to no avail. Turning around, Chris spots the rapidly approaching monster. 

Holding Barbara and Jayce to him, he closes his eyes. “I love you both.” With a tight embrace, the crying family close their eyes as the crunch of the snow draws nearer.

With a click, the locked door opens, a hand pulling them inside. The beast lunges forward, claw hooking Chris’s sweater before the heavy door shuts, tearing the claw off jaggedly as monstrous wails pierce the night air.



Lobby. 6:33 p.m.

Huddling together, a woman in an all-black security uniform hands the family a blanket. Jayce holds the severed claw curiously. Bluish black liquid oozing off.

“What the hell was that thing?” 

“I don’t know, kid. I’ve never seen anything like it in all my years here.” The woman answers. 

Chris wraps the blanket around Barbera. “Thank you so much for saving us. I don’t know what would have happened-”

“You probably would have ended up a human kebab like those poor souls out there… I’m just sorry I didn’t get there sooner…” The woman wipes her brow. “I’m Bradley, head of security here and apparently bad at my fucking job.”

Bradley holds her hand out. Trembling, Chris takes it and shakes it as firmly as he can. 

“Chris. This is my wife Barbera, and our son Jayce.” Bradley nods to the group before another bang rings out against the locked door.

“Shh! Follow me,” Bradley whispers, moving toward a hallway. She leads the family into a smaller room, with a wall full of small CCTVs. Gesturing to the couch, Bradley takes a quick swig of a flask, before asking, “So. How was your night going?”



Lodge Security. 7:02 p.m.

“... And then you pulled us inside.” Chris finishes. Pacing the room, Bradley looks to Chris. 

“Did… did you say Frank answered the walkie-talkie?”

“Yeah, he wanted us to go to Cabin 13 but Stacey said that was blocked off for renovations,” Jayce adds. 

“... Fuck.” Bradley paces faster. Barbera stands.

“Fuck?? Fuck what??

“That wasn’t Frank.”

Scrunching her eyebrows, Barbera sighs, “What do you mean that wasn’t Frank?”

“That couldn’t have been Frank because… well uh. Frank is dead.”

Chris, Barbera, and Jayce all look at each other, wide-eyed. “If Frank is dead… then who was on the Walkie Talkie?” asks Jayce.

“I don’t know,” Bradley responds, loading one of her pistols. “But I’m gonna find out.”

Pistol at the ready, Bradley moves toward the door. Barbera stands, blocking the door. 

“Now wait a minute! You’re just going to leave us here?? JESUS CHRIST! WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT— THAT THING??? I- WE NEED TO CALL THE POLICE OR SOMETHING-”

Bradley hurriedly puts a hand over Barbera’s mouth, shaking her forcefully. “Shhhhh! Now unless you want to end up like Frank, I’m going to need you to stay quiet and trust me. Okay?”

Barbera nods slowly. Removing her hand, Bradley rubs her temples. 

“I’ve already tried calling dozens of times… But the phone lines are all dead. Whatever happened, our backup generator just didn’t start. So we’re on our own for now…”

Taking a seat, Bradley sighs. 

“Now I don’t know everything that’s going on, okay? All I DO know is that we are all in danger. Those rich fucks didn’t want to lose money by closing down–”

“What?? Wait…  are you telling me that they knew there was something out here KILLING people and did nothing?”

“They swept it under the rug and wrote it off as a mountain lion. Huh. Mountain Lion my ass…About two days ago now, we got a distress call from Cabin 13 but most of our personnel were watching over a party in the banquet hall so I sent Frank over… After the party, he wasn’t answering his Walkie, and I hadn’t seen him, so I went over to Cabin 13 myself. The hinges of the damn door were broken and it reeked… I found what was left of Frank and the family staying there on the walls… But whatever did that was gone. No footprints either… just an open window and blood-streaked walls.” Bradley shudders, wiping her face as she stands. 

“You said you found a body… What did it look like?”

Chris looks up. “Well, he uh…um… well There was blood, and-”

“It looked like a fucking Jackson Pollock painting!!” Jayce interjects.

“Jesus…That sounds about like what I saw…This has got to stop.”

“Hey uh… Guys?”

Barbera interrupts, pointing at the security screens. One by one, the feed goes to static. 

“Oh No no no no, oh fuck!!” Bradley hurriedly hits some buttons, in a futile effort.

“That’s just because of the power, right? There’s no way that thing took out all those cameras at once. Right!?” Barbera gasps through shallow breaths.

“There is one place that you could take out all the cameras from. But… You guys aren’t gonna like it.”

“Let me guess. The basement.” Chris says, laughing. 

Bradley clicks her tongue, nodding. 

“Wait you’re serious? I was joking. The basement??”

“Unless this thing can teleport, or worse, there are more of them… I fucking hope it’s in the basement.” 

“Can’t we just wait here until the police arrive?” Barbera bites her nails. 

Rising, Bradley shrugs. “I’m not gonna be a sitting duck just waiting to get killed. If you’d rather serve yourselves up on a platter then be my guest.” 

Pistol prepped, Bradley slinks through the door.  Jayce follows, beckoning his parents. Groaning, Barbera takes Chris’s hand as he leads her through the door. 


Service Elevator. 7:22 p.m.

Bradley leads the family to a service elevator.

“But isn’t the power out?” Jayce asks. 

“Lucky for us, these babies have one more battery-powered ride after the power goes out. Once I get the power back on, we’ll ride back up no problem.” 

Jayce nods, stepping inside. Pressing the button for the bottom floor, Bradley whispers. “Okay. When we get down there, there’s a lobby area before the actual door to the basement. I want you to stay there. I’m going to go turn the power back on, then the cameras, and then come right back.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to go alone?”

“I’m not alone,” Bradley smirks, holding up her pistol. “And It shouldn’t take long... But, if I’m not back in 10 minutes, then don’t wait for me.” The elevator doors open up to a small room with a large metal door to the right, and a stairwell to the left. 

“I don’t like this…” Barbera whispers to herself. 

“It’s gonna be okay.” Bradley looks at Jayce and Chris, before approaching Barbera. “Can you do me a favor?”

Barbera lifts her red eyes toward Bradley’s. “Sure.”

Pulling a pistol from her pant leg, she says “Hold on to this for me while I’m gone? It’s gotten me out of some tough situations and it always made me feel safer.” 

Barbera holds it quizzically.

“Don’t fall in love with it now, you hear? I'm taking it right back once I return. Deal?”

Barbera smiles. “Deal.”

“Okay. I’ll see you on the other side.” Bradley winks, slipping inside the basement door. 



The Basement. 7:22 p.m.

Closing the metal door as quietly as she possibly can, Bradley takes a breath, the darkness overpowering her senses. The only light in the vast room comes from a lost power alert on the line of washing machines. 

“For fucks sake..” She whispers, attempting to adjust her eyes. Okay. There’s a staircase with… thirteen steps. Bradley softly steps down, using the wall to steady herself. Reaching the bottom, she misses a step and trips, a sharp pain shooting through her ankle. “Agh- Shit..” Fourteen. There are fourteen steps. 

Okay. The generator is in the back right corner, the cameras to the right. Okay. Keeping her hands out in front of her, she limps toward the generator. 



Basement Lobby. 7:25 p.m.

“Has it been 10 minutes??” 

“No hun, it’s only been a couple. Bradley’s an expert, don’t worry too much.” Chris rubs Barbera’s hand softly. 

Jayce looks to the elevator and squints. 

“Um… dad?”

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Why are those numbers moving?”

Confused, Chris looks up, seeing the red numbers slowly ticking up.

“I don’t know…”

The numbers steadily climb to floor 10 before pausing, and descending again. 

“Chris-” Barbera hisses. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing but… let’s wait in the stairwell for Bradley?”



The Basement. 7:25 p.m.

Reaching the generator, a steady drip rings out. Please tell me that’s not oil. Bradley crouches down, running her hands along the bottom to the source of the drip. Fuck. Standing, her hands search for the circuit breaker. 

Suddenly, Chris’s voice breaks the silence. 

“Psst. Bradley!”

“What the hell are you doing?!” Bradley whisper-yells.

“I wanted to help.”

“Ugh. Fine. I’m in the corner. But for God’s sake, be quiet.

Finding the panel, Bradley traces her fingers to find the last switch as Chris’s heavy footsteps approach. 

“Jeez, can you lighten up on the steps, Chris?” 

Bradley finds the switch as Chris’s footsteps cease. Bingo. A warm liquid drops on Bradley’s head. “Ew, what the fuck?” The lights flicker on as pulls her fingers away from her head, finding them coated in blood.

Swinging around toward Chris,  Bradley’s eyes meet a giant red-stained furry chest. With a ragged breath, she lifts her head to the blood-soaked mouth. 

Chris’s voice speaks, “Hi, Bradley.” 

“AAAA-” Bradley’s screams are cut off as the creature’s jaws close around her face. 



Basement Stairwell. 7:35 p.m.

“That sounds like Bradley!!! We need to help her!”Barbera reaches for the doorknob, before Chris grabs her wrist. 

“Chris what–”

The soft groan of the basement door opening echoes through the lobby. Placing a hand around Barbera’s mouth, Chris brings a finger to his lips. Large steps squelch behind the lobby door as the lights flicker, illuminating the stairwell. With ragged breaths, Barbera notices the door has no lock.

“Chris, the door…” She breathes, wide-eyed. 

Chris holds the doorknob shut as the footsteps grow louder, an unsettling growl vibrating against the door. The doorknob twists left and right slowly, as Chris struggles to keep it in place. Pushing his weight against the door, Barbera holds Jayce close to her. To their relief, the footsteps retreat as the shadow beneath the door moves past it. 

“Phew, that was close.” Chris smiles at Barbera and Jayce as he removes his hand from the door. 


The door crashes open.

“Agh!!” Chris cries out, as the beast latches onto his exposed arm through the opening with its massive razor-sharp teeth.


Struggling to get his arm out of the beast’s mouth, the creature twists it, breaking it in half. “AHGH…” Chris cries out, looking at Jayce and Barbera. “RUN!”

“Chris, no, I can’t do this without you!” Barbera sobs. 

“Barbera... AGH…. Please, take Jayce away from here. AGH. I love you.”

Crying, Jayce grabs his mother’s hand. “I LOVE YOU,” Barbera screams, running up the stairs. The crash of the door, followed by Chris’s painful screams echo through the stairwell. 



The 12th Floor. 7:45 p.m.

Barbera and Jayce wildly race up the stairwell, away from the creature. His father’s screams echoing through the stairwell, before growing silent. Sobbing, they reach the end of the stairwell and Jayce barrels through the door, Barbera closing it behind them. Hyperventilating, Jayce finds a chair and props it against the door. Running into what looks like an office, the two  search desperately for something, anything, to aid them. Scouring the drawers, Barbera finds a cellphone.

“Oh thank god.” 

She dials rapidly. 

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“Hello? I’m at-”

“Hello? Speak up! What’s your name?”

“Barbera Wilson. I- Everyone’s dead. We need help..”

“Where are you?”

“The Cold Crest Lodge. The 12th floor. Please hurry,” Jayce cries into the phone.

“We’ll be right there. Hang tight.” 

“Thank you.”

The stairwell door crashes open as the propped up chair splinters and crunches under the weight. Barbera tries to make sense of the handgun Bradley handed her, stowing the quivering Jayce under the desk, 

“Jayce? Barbera honey, where are you?” Chris’s false voice fills the hallway, and Jayce rocks back and forth beneath the desk. Adrenaline seizes his system, the surrounding noise slipping into a soft ring. The creature breaks through, the muffled screeches softly echoing. Soaked in her husband’s blood, the tall furry beast lunges at Barbera with its claws outstretched. In a frenzy, she shoots the creature over and over, screaming as the creature’s claws puncture her stomach and chest. Stumbling back, Barbera shatters the window behind her, taking the creature with her. 

Gasping for air, Jayce holds his knees, rocking back and forth. Exhaustion taking over, his eyes close softly as blue and red light pours in through the broken window. 


Police Station. 9:02 p.m.

“Please, you have to believe me! It was a huge monster like 8 feet tall, covered in blood and-”

“8 feet tall? Come on, son. We searched the 12th floor and didn’t find anything. What we did find, is a gun in your hand, dead people, and some bloody mountain lion footprints. You do the math.”

“You don’t understand I- it killed everyone. It had claws and fangs and it killed my dad and... And my mom... And….” 

Breaking down, Jayce sobs into his coffee mug. 

“Calm down son. We’re sending out a team to investigate. We got in touch with their security guy, Frank, and–.”

“But that’s NOT Frank! The creature uses other people's voices and - and it tricks you! It’s a monster!!”

“So. This 8-foot-tall abominable snowman can also sound like my grandma?” The officer chuckles, elbowing the officer beside him.

“Hang tight, kid.”

Standing up, Jayce starts to scream and thrash wildly out of his blanket.



Officers barrel into the room, restraining Jayce. 

“GET HIM DOWN!” Jayce continues to cry and thrash beneath the officers’ weight. 

“You don’t understand, PLEASE!!”

“Get a breathalyzer, drug test, and call the damn psych ward. Let’s move out!” The sheriff brings a phone to his ear as he walks away from the screaming Jayce. “Hello? Ah, Frank, we’re on our way. Yeah, we’ve got him here. I’m sure it’s all a big misunderstanding…”


Submitted: November 11, 2022

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