A Night Stroll With My Dead Wife

Tonight I took a stroll
And you were there.

I didn’t notice,
Not at first.

The sky was cloudy
But neither full of rain
Nor thunder.

I wish I knew your name,
To have met you,
And your soul full of love

I could feel you there,
With your smile,
And warm aura.

To the woman
I missed,
Thank you.

Thank you for being there
When I could not.

Right so this might make it seem like I have been married (if you weren’t paying attention). I have not. I did take a stroll and it was cloudy and I did feel a woman’s presence there with me. It was only for a brief moment and most likely caused from carb sadness (I’m trying to make some lifestyle changes — again). It was a beautiful moment and inspired this #TerriblePoem. It is nice to get over the bit of writer’s block I’ve had.

Burgers and Pebbles

Steve looked across the table at his date. She wasn’t very tall, a bit on the bigger side which he liked and her face was nondescript. She seemed a bit shy but he suspected this was a ploy to hide a deep dark secret. A secret he was determined to uncover by asking the most boring questions known to women. They were the same questions every guy asks on a first date.

Steve thought he had Peggie figured out. She liked to read and her favorite novel was Pride & Prejudice. Her favorite movie was Gremlins, and her favorite band was Black Sabbath. She also loved the color blue. A typical woman to be sure.

Continuing his quest of finding the most boring question he asked, “So, what do you do for a living?”

She looked him directly in the eyes and said, “I am a professional pebble thrower.”

He choked on his soda. “What now?”

“I’m a professional pebble thrower. In fact, I am the world champion.”

He looked at his half-eaten burger debating whether he should leave this loon with the check or stay and hear her out. His stomach decided for him. He picked up his burger for another bite and asked, “So, do you make a good living doing that?”

“Not bad, about two hundred k a year.”

A piece of his half-chewed burger caught in his throat. He started coughing violently until it dislodged. He snatched his soda and began gulping down the liquid trying to sooth the soreness.

“Oh my bananas! Are you okay?” Peggie asked.

Steve coughed a few more times before responding in a scratchy voice, “I’m okay.”

After making sure he was okay Peggie returned to eating her own sandwich. She took big bites and chewed slowly, her giant eyes watched as he sat there not saying a word. She placed down her sandwich and asked, “a bit much?”

“So you toss pebbles around and people pay you two hundred thousand for that?”

She nodded. “Yup. It’s a real head-splitting sport.”

“You’re putting me on.”

“Nope, deadly serious.” She sucked on her soda.

Steve shook his head and laughed, “Well that’s cool. Best I’ve ever done is come in second in the 200-yard dash, when I was eleven.”

“You seem nice.” She said leaning over to get a better look at him.

The whole floor buckled as a loud boom sounded. The door to the restaurant exploded inwards as a large creature burst through. The monster looked at Peggie and roared; it started charging towards them. Steve watched as she deftly drew a pouch from her pocket and took out a smooth blue pebble. In less than a second, the little stone punched through the creature’s head with a spray of black blood. The monster collapsed to the floor sliding across the slick surface to Peggie’s feet.

She looked over at Steve with a huge grin and said, “that never gets old.”

Steve tried to speak but only managed to squeak out a few incomprehensible words. He took a deep breath and managed to utter, “You really are the world champion pebble thrower.”

Cinderella: Goddess of Thunder

A grandfather opened a storybook and began reading to his granddaughter, “A long time ago, in a land far away there lived a young girl, Ella. She was the apple of her father’s eye and the two had many grand adventures together. As Ella grew older her father wanted her to experience life with a mother, since Ella’s mother had passed a few months after Ella had been born.

“The father came home from a long trip to the country bringing home his new bride, who already had two young girls of her own, both not much older than Ella. Within weeks tragedy struck and the father passed away. Ella could not be consoled and the step-mother had her dragged to the attic.

“Ella found that her new mother was cruel and her new step-sisters equally as cruel. Ella became a servant in her new home. She would spend many nights with tears in her eyes staring at the fire thinking of her father. The soot stained her clothes and skin and her long blond hair. Her step-sisters started calling her Cinderella.”

The granddaughter interrupted the story, “Bobo, this is boring!”

“Is it? Well what would you change?” The young girl’s grandfather asked.

“Here, let me take over.” The girl snatched the book.

“Oh and can you read that?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you the true story of Cinderella!”

The girl began narrating the story.


There was a boring king who had a son, who I guess needed a wife. I asked mommy about why and she said it was a dumb custom they had back then. Well in order to get the lazy son married, the king held a ball asking every eligible girl to come.

Well the nasty step-sisters and step-mom gave Cinderella so much work she didn’t get to go. But while at the ball a giant flying wyrm swooped down and ate many of the maidens, including the nasty step-mom and step-sisters. The mean ol’ dragon kept the king and prince hostage. They couldn’t go out to keep the kingdom in order and chaos was everywhere!

Cinderella went to the old tree near where her mother rested. While she was a little happy she no longer had a nasty step-mother and step-sisters, she was sad that everything around her was terrible.

Then something magical happened! An old man with one eye came out from within the tree and said. “I am the old god, Woden. You have a good heart and you will be rewarded.”

Cinderella didn’t know what to say.

The really old man was full of mirth and joy and said, “Cinderella, I grant you the powers of Thor. You are now the Goddess of Thunder. Go free the kingdom.”
He handed her the giant hammer, Mjölnir and vanished. Once she gripped the hammer she found herself in glamorous armor without sleeves to show off her sexy muscular arms and she had a magnificent cape! (A purple cape as that is my favorite color).

She flew right away to the castle and challenged the mean dragon. A few slaps with her hammer the dragon was slain and the kingdom was free! The prince asked her to be his wife, but she turned him down. She didn’t want no lazy prince. Instead she traveled the world protecting people from mean ol’ nasty things.

The end!


The grandfather looked down at his granddaughter, who was quite pleased with her story, and said, “I think your parents let you watch too many Marvel movies.”

Remember Me

This is a bit longer piece of fiction. It’s almost a short story. I am super curious to see what you think about it, so don’t be afraid to leave a comment in the penny jar below.

Roger looked at his phone. No new messages and it was 15 minutes after four. She was late. He didn’t even know who ‘she’ was. A mysterious message telling him to meet with an Empowered woman who had been saving people around the city for the last five years. River Oak City was barely a city so to have its own Empowered vigilante was a pretty big deal but as a journalist for the local paper, he thought he would have heard about one in the last five years.

A woman walked through the door. Every person in the coffee shop stared at her, completely mesmerized. She was tall and wearing a stunning red dress with matching heels. She had immaculate pale skin which contrasted nicely with her golden blond hair and ruby red lips. Her large shamrock green eyes had a mystical essence that kept the patron of the coffee shop riveted.

The glamorous woman sat across from Roger and smiled. Roger thought he saw a shimmer of sadness wash across her face before she spoke. “Hello, Roger. Sorry, I’m late. How have you been?”

“I’ve been–” He stopped in confusion and then said, “I’m sorry, but do I know you? I think I would remember, you leave quite an impression.”

She laughed. It was a pleasant laugh which had a mystical tone that brought up images of a faraway grassy hill covered with mist. After the brief laugh, she said, “One would think. Well, are you ready for the biggest exclusive of your life?”

“I am.” He said bringing out his notepad and pen.

“Do you have an audio recorder? You’ll want one, no video though.”

He pulled his audio recorder from his pocket and placed it on the table. She brought up her hands and cupped them over his. Her lips turned into a large smile at his discomfort. He removed his hands slowly and she pressed the record button.

He coughed, holding his hand to his mouth. “For the record, I am speaking with a woman who claims to be an Empowered individual who has been protecting River Oak City for the last five years. What is your name?”


“Freyja, that’s Norse, isn’t it?”

“It is, very good,” she said.

“Tell me Freyja, what are your abilities that you consider yourself an Empowered?”

“There is not a person who looks at me that can keep focused on the task at hand. I simply have to be present and anyone trying to commit a crime will keep their entire attention on me and forget what they were trying to do. This hypnotic aura allows me to subdue any criminal with a simple suggestion that they fall asleep.”

Roger shifted in his chair while he tapped his pen. After a few moments of silence he commented, “That is quite unique. Do you have any other abilities?”

“I am quite strong, physically, which is typical for an Empowered person. My aura seems to interfere with video recording. Any attempt to record me ends up in static.”

“How is it we have never heard of you before now?”

She pursed her lips and closed her eyes. She drew in a deep breath before opening her eyes. She gazed at Roger for a good minute before responding, “Minutes after I am gone people lose all memory of me. It’s as if I was never in the room.”

“Well that seems pretty terrible,” Roger commented. “Can you turn off your aura?”

“I can’t. I have worked with the best trainers dealing with Empowered but nothing has worked. And yes, it is a giant downside.”

“I would imagine you feel quite lonely.”

A tear slid down her cheek and she nodded, “If you were to ask me what my greatest desire is, it is to have a connection. To be remembered.”

Roger didn’t quite know why but he reached out and held her hand. She smiled and the two sat in silence. After a few minutes she took her hand back and coughed. Roger shook his head in attempt to focus. He looked over and asked, “What triggered your abilities.”

“It was the Great Acorn Charity ball six years ago. I was there with my fiancé when the Fearsome Six crashed the event to rob everyone.”

“I remember that event, I was there to cover it for the paper.”

She nodded, “I know. When the Six stormed the event center, I hid behind a table with my fiancé. I was so scared but he held his arm around me — I felt safe in that moment. Then one of them threatened to kill the mayor. That was the moment I changed. It felt like a switch inside of me flipped. I stood up and yelled stop. To my surprise they stopped, everyone stopped. All eyes were on me and no one moved. Soon after the police arrived and apprehended the Six.

“I thought that would be the end of it and went looking for my fiancé. I found him but he didn’t know me. I tried to convince him of who I was — who we were together — but it didn’t work . I didn’t know until later that I had changed physically but that wasn’t why he didn’t recognize me, he had no memory of me whatsoever. My previous self died in that moment and Freyja was born.”

Roger didn’t quite know how to respond. He was stunned at her brief story, tears came to his eyes. He felt the sadness emanating from her and he choked out, “I am so sorry.”

“No need to apologize. It isn’t your fault. You’d better continue your interview, I don’t want to leave it on that note,” she said.

“How is it that you have kept on the path of helping people? With abilities like yours you could be a serious Dark Empowered.”

“I have been tempted. Anytime I feel the desire to do something terrible, I make time to meet with my former fiancé. Seeing him helps remind me that there are good people out there worth fighting for.”

“That must be very difficult.”

She gave a curt nod. “Very. But it is worth it. Oh is it worth it.”

Roger continued his interview with her, asking various questions about her adventures and the crimes she had stopped. The minutes passed quickly as the two talked. It ended when her phone buzzed. She looked at it and said, “I’m sorry Roger, but I have to go. It’s been good seeing you again.”

The two stood and she embraced him with a firm hug. She held him for a very long time, not wanting to let go. Roger was about to say something when she let go and then vanished out the door.

Roger sat down. What an unusual experience. He had met the most remarkable — wait was he speaking with someone? He looked down at his audio recorder, it was still recording. He looked at the scribbles on his notepad. Pure gibberish. Why would he record nothing and scribble nonsense? He shook his head and deleted the recording. He must be crazy to sit at a coffee shop and record nothing.

The Bar

And more flash fiction. My hopes is that after awhile of writing flash fiction, I can attempt a longer story. If you were wondering why all the fiction lately.

Derrick sauntered into the bar. He slicked back his stylish brown hair and cast his eyes over the crowd milling about. Sitting at the end of the bar was a man in an expensive suit and shoes. Derrick licked his lips and approached the stranger. He wiped the stool next to the man with his sleeve and sat down. The man smelled like he was drenched with cheap aftershave and booze. Derrick looked over at him and asked, “What you having?”

The man looked over at Derrick and said, “Sorry kid, you’re not my style.”

Derrick shrugged and responded, “I think you misunderstand me, grandpa. I’m just looking for a little conversation. I like to meet new people and hear their stories.”

The man snorted, “Grandpa. Cute. I like it. You’re not so bad, kid. You have name?”

Derrick signaled to the bar tender to bring two of what the stranger was drinking and then replied, “Derrick. What about you?”

“The name is Cabe.”

“Well drink up, Cabe, it’s on me.”

Cabe downed the drink and wiped his mouth with a napkin. He gasped, “that hits the spot.”

“So Cabe, you look a bit down. Things not right with the Mrs?”

Cabe held the next drink in his hand and said, “Not married. No, I’m having vampire troubles.”

Derrick almost tipped his glass and blurted, “vampire troubles?”

“Crazy right? I am a vampire hunter and work has been a bit down this year. Do you know anything about vampires?”

“Only what I’ve seen in the movies.”

Cabe downed another glass of the dark liquid and then said, “Garbage, all of it. This whole thing of staying eternally young, complete bollocks. Real vampires start to rot from the moment of their birth into un-death. Drinking blood helps slow down the rot, but you can tell a vampire from the foul stench of decaying flesh that permeates their presence. The rotting, it’s why they hate the sun, just speeds up the whole process of wasting away.”

“So why do books and shows make it seem so glamorous?” Derrick was still nursing his first drink.

“Rumors spread around by vampires. You get gullible humans seeking out vampires in the hopes of becoming one of the immortals. Having your prey come to you makes life so much easier than having to track it down for the kill. Know what I mean?”

Derrick tapped the bar with his free hand and shifted in his seat. He did have an idea of what Cabe was speaking about. “You’re not really a vampire hunter, are you?”

Cabe downed another glass and then handed a business card to Derrick. He looked it over and in simple print it read, ‘Cabe Abernathy — Vampire Hunter.’
Derrick said, “You realize anyone get a business card printed up to say anything.”

“True. I guess you’ll have to take my word for it.” Cabe went to stand up but stumbled and collapsed on the bar.

“Whoa, grandpa. You might have had one too many to drink. Let me call you a cab.” Derrick settled up with the bar tender and escorted Cabe through the crowd to the exit.

Cabe stumbled outside as Derrick tried to keep him upright. Cabe’s mouth turned into a goofy grin as Derrick began leading him towards a dark alley. “Where you taking me, kid?”

“Oh, to meet some friends.” Derrick whistled and a motley crew of people exited the alley holding clubs, chains and knives. Derrick let Cabe fall to the ground and said, “So this can go easy or hard, you just got to hand over that fat wallet and we’ll only rough you up a little.”

Cabe groaned and flopped around on the ground. He started to whimper, “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I would have thought a vampire hunter would be a bit tougher.”

Cabe stopped writhing and his whimper turned into laughter. “Oh, kid. I don’t hunt vampires.” He reached up to his face and pulled off his skin like a mask, revealing a face of rotted flesh, bone, and very sharp teeth. He uttered in a demonic tone, “I’m a vampire that hunts.”

It was over within seconds. A few escaped but Cabe didn’t care, fresh blood drizzled down his chin and he was happy. He turned to the near corpse on the ground and said, “See kid, the one thing the movies get right is vampires are fast and strong as hell.” He leaned down and started guzzling.

Whispers in the Dark

Some more random flash fiction. 🙂

He reached out and grabbed her wrist as she attempted to leave the bed. He stared into her eyes with his best attempt of puppy dog eyes. She laughed and kissed him. “I can’t, you know I can’t.”

“Your words say no but your laugh says,” he paused a brief moment and continued, “maybe?”

“I have to suit up and go save the Universe. We have the six pieces of the Codex and once we–”

“Put them in the Horborum of blah blah, the great evil will be defeated.”

“Do you want The Blackness to win, for every living being in the known galaxy to be under its control?”

“No. You know I don’t.” He sat up and rested his back on the headboard. He avoided her eyes and continued, “Do you ever feel like we aren’t in control of our actions? It always feels like there is some new threat that keeps us occupied from making any real decisions. First Duke Zagron of Bato and then Emperor Vix and now The Blackness. Where does it all end?”

She finished clasping on the last piece of her battle armor and then sat on the bed, grabbing his hand. “Dear, I love you deeply but you know how important this is. We can’t take the time for frivolous things. Now suit up, I need my space wizard.”

“You’re right. And that is space wizard of the 10th order, mind you.”

“Trying to impress a girl with a fancy title? You know I’m already yours.” She paused in thought. She scratched her helmet and said, “There is something to what you’re saying, though. In the course of our adventures, I feel like I have died before. Several times. It’s this phantom recollection that swims in my mind.”

“Yes! I have felt it too!” He finished dressing and was ready to go.

“What do you think it means?” She asked.

“I don’t know but we had better make sure to sell our junk before leaving for Protix and make sure we upgrade all our gear and get extra health kits.”

“Who are you, my dad?”

“Gosh no, that’s just creepy. I’m your space wizard.”

“Come on space wizard, let’s go save the Universe.” She grabbed him by the elbow and the two left the small bedroom arms locked. There was a Blackness coming and they were going to be there to face it.

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Golden Eyes

I didn’t really feel like writing but I wanted to keep writing. I didn’t have a good idea for a story so I searched the Internet for a prompt, came across something about two asteroids colliding and the fallout comes to earth. So I forced myself to write.

After finishing the below piece I’ve come away not quite sure what I am trying to say. What do you think I am trying to say?

Tara stared intently at her hands placed flat on the table. They were slim, a color of brown that couldn’t be quantified in a Crayola crayon set and her nails were a marvelous green. There was only one little problem. Well several little problems. Dark nasty hairs poking up destroying her fabulous look. Today was worse than yesterday and yesterday she had waxed but today the hairs were back worse than ever.

No one knew what caused it but ever since the two asteroids collided two weeks ago people all across the globe started to change. Scientists believed there was some sort of disease that was released in the collision. The only problem was they couldn’t actually identify a disease, virus, or anything really. People started growing nasty hairs on their hands and scientists were stumped. It wasn’t everyone most were lucky enough to have normal hands but Tara wasn’t one of them.

A voice started speaking at her, “You poor lass, luck has naught to do with it. Tis magic you see.”

Tara twitched out of her deep observation and looked across the table at the speaker and spoke in a melancholic tone, “You’re a leprechaun then?”

“Aye. I take it my festive green outfit gave it away?”

“A wee bit. Can you lift this curse then?”

“Now why would I do that? Tis a blessing not a curse. Every so often evolution needs a wee push, you’re part of the next step of evolution of man.”

She said, “Hairy hands? That does seem useful to solve all those pesky problems nature is throwing my way — like school dances and stars forbid I meet a boy I like. Not a one willing to give me a chance, now.”

“Don’t worry, hair on the hands is only the start. Soon your lovely eyes will turn yellow and quite large, you’ll grow a snout and fangs and have incredible strength.”

She looked at the leprechaun and asked, “I’m to be a werewolf then?”

“Of a sort, without the bother of being bound to the moon.”

“Well, that is sure to bring the lads running to my door.”

“Trust me, not a lad will resist you.”

She paused for a moment. Her fingers tapped the table. She decided what her next action would be. She let out a howl and jumped on the table. She could smell the blood circulating through the leprechauns throat. The need to take a large bit overwhelmed her and she rushed across the table, hairy hands outstretched.

“Tara! Tara, wake up!”

Tara jerked awake, she had fallen asleep on the table. Her brother was shaking her. She looked over at him and asked, “Yes, Tommy?”

“Tara, you’ve been sleeping for a long time and I’m hungry. May I have a biscuit.”

Tara smiled and stood up while saying, “Sure thing.”

The two went over to the cupboards where Tara grabbed a biscuit from the pack and gave it to Tommy. Tommy gave her a smile and said, “Thanks! And those are some wicked yellow eyes you got now.”

Tommy ran off with his prize as Tara felt a howl emerging from her throat.

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The Woods

Huge shout out to Misha Burnett for being the first to mention some things about my last story I was hoping someone would mention. He made my day! 🙂

Here is a new story, not super original, but still more words written.

A cold breeze snaked across the ground, brown leafs danced in the stream of air catching on twisted roots of the surrounding trees. A group of teenagers huddled around a campfire. Several had marshmallows on sticks placed in the fire. They watched the white treats puff up from the heat. One member of the group began speaking.

“Hey, how about we tell scary stories? Have you heard about the Missouri Monster?”

The blond haired girl, wrapped in scarves and blankets let out a loud boo. The dark wavy haired girl sitting next to her exclaimed, “What Lisa said. Boo! That’s such a dumb legend.”

A tall lanky boy sitting across the fire on simple log stump said, “Yeah, it’s not even scary.”

Rachel leaned forward and rubbed her hands together over the fire and said, “I dunno. Maybe we should let James finish his story. He is a pretty good teller of tales. Maybe he made it scary?”

Lisa looked over at Rachel, with a confused expression, “Who is James?”
Rachel scrunched up her face, now she was confused. “What do you mean who is James? He is sitting right there next to Rob.”

Tommi, the dark wavy haired girl, said, “Rachel, you’re kind of scaring me, there is no one sitting next to Rob.”

Rachel rubbed her temple trying to massage the massive pain splitting her skull. She looked over at James who looked very annoyed. His hands were placed on top of his auburn curly hair. His green eyes stared back at her. He spoke up, “Okay, guys this isn’t funny. You guys see me, right? I am right here.”

Lisa spoke again, “Rachel, would you stop trying to get attention. This isn’t funny. I am so tired of how you just make things up for a laugh.”

Rachel let out a small yelp. The pain spread across her skull down to the back of her neck. Her vision started to blur but she managed to make out James standing up, a metal hot dog roaster in his hands. His knuckles turning right. She screamed as James tried to run the roaster through Rob but the metal was flimsy and bent.

“How about that dumb ass. See how real I am?” James shouted.

Lisa screamed, “Why the hell would you do that? Are you insane?”

Rachel watched as James turned to Lisa, his face red, “I am tired of being invisible, with all of you clowns pretending I don’t exist. Well I exist, I am visible!” James picked up the hatchet next to the kindling by the fireplace. He swung, blood splattering across his face as screams surrounded him. “I exist.”


Rachel opened her eyes. She was standing next to the smoldering embers of the dying fire, the bloodied corpses of her friends littered the ground. She tried to scream but it came out as a pathetic whimper. Her hand, she was holding something. She looked down, in her clenched fist was a hatchet. Blood dripping from the blade onto the ground. She crumbled to the ground on her knees letting out a sob. She felt a hand placed on her shoulder and a faint voice say, “I exist.”

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The Closet

I am going to write a few fiction stories on here. They won’t be good but at least I am writing something. Maybe one day I’ll git gud at this writing thang.

John woke to his cellphone buzzing on the nightstand. The figure next to him twisted under the covers as he looked at his phone and groaned. He smashed the answer button on the screen and in a gruff voice said, “Yes?”

The voice on the other end of the line spoke for what felt like several minutes before he spoke again, “It’s just your imagination. Our house is not haunted. No ghosts, werewolves or zombies.” The other voice continued again for another length of time. John tapped the nightstand with his knuckles and then interjected, “No, I told you I have to work all night. You know what will happen if I don’t get this project done.” John brushed his hair back with his hand and gave a deep sigh as the voice interrupted him. He spoke into the phone, “Okay, okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He ended the call and the covers next to him shuffled around as his companion sat up. Her hands started massaging his shoulders and she asked, “Your wife?”

“Yes. This move out to the country side was a giant mistake. Her sanity has leaped off a cliff.”

“It sounds like it — from what you told me. Hanging garlic to keep out the vampires, laying out meat to scare off the poltergeists, and placing those witch symbols around the yard. It sounds nuts.”

“Ugh the meat, it just sat there for days rotting. The house smelled horrible. I made her toss it out. I think she bought more recently too. She is scared to go anywhere at night and every creak she hears sends her into hysterics.”

The woman said, “You should leave her.”

“You know why I can’t.” He responded.

She stopped her massage and said, “You’d better go. Don’t want to be late.”

He turned and gripped her hands, “Hey now, don’t be like that. It won’t be long before I can finally leave her. Just a few more months.”

“I hate all this sneaking around, I want our relationship to be open. I want my friends to meet you.”

He smiled and kissed her before saying, “You are the only woman for me. Be patient.”


John was walking up to his front door when it burst open and the frail figure of his wife entangled him. “Oh John, I am so glad you here.”

John remained silent and gave his wife a firm embrace. They separated and he said, “Okay, where is the ghost tonight?”

Her face scrunched up in an attempt to hold back her tears. “John, it is terrible. I have never been so scared. Noises coming from all over the house. From the basement to the attic.”

“I’m here now. Let’s go scare this ghost back into submission.” He held her hand and led her back into the house.

The two started in the basement, where he went around opening doors to prove to his wife no monsters lurked behind. They made their way up to their bedroom. He approached the bathroom door and his wife’s grip tightened. He shook his head and ripped open the door. The clean tile, empty tub and simple vanity was the only thing visible.

“That’s just about every room in the house. See? No ghosts, ghouls or monsters. How about we get some sleep.”

She nodded her consent and the two prepared for sleep.


The two figures under the comforter slept in peace in the dark room. A cry wafted through the air. The sound of something in pain. John’s eyes opened at the noise. He looked over at his wife, she was still asleep. She looked peaceful and the faint light drifting through the window brought out her beauty. There was the woman he had married. John waited a few minutes to hear if the noise returned but there was only silence. He closed his eyes when the same haunting cry pierced the night.

John jumped out of bed. This time, the sound, it was coming from the closet. He hadn’t checked there. He approached the closet with caution. Each step brought him closer. Was that rustling he heard from behind the closet door?

A voice broke his concentration. It was his wife, she was near the bedroom door, her eyes large with fright. “John, don’t. Don’t open that door. Let’s leave.”

“It’s okay. It’s probably just the wind but I had better check.” John started toward his goal again.

His wife pleaded, “Please, John. Let’s leave this house.”

“Relax, I got this.”

He gripped the doorknob to the closet and turned the knob. He heard the bedroom door slam. He threw the door open. A giant howl pierced his ears as a dark form pounced on him slamming him to the floor. He screamed as long claws twisted into his flesh. His screams stopped as his throat was ripped apart from sharp teeth.


Detective Arnold looked at the grisly scene in the bedroom as the officer next to him was stating through the known facts, “We can’t confirm for sure until the autopsy but the markings on the body have the signature of a mountain lion attack. Officer Wendell found there was hole in the side of the house that led to a crawlspace between the walls that led to the back of the closet.”

Detective Arnold spoke, “Well ain’t this the darndest thing. A mountain lion attack. The wife?”

“She is safe. Really shook up but she fled the house thinking it was haunted. Saved her life, most likely. Made it to her neighbor’s house down the street. They were who contacted us.”

“Okay, well this seems pretty open and shut. Get animal control out looking for the animal. I’ll go speak with the wife, that poor woman.” Detective Arnold shook his head and walked down the hall. He certainly never expected his day to turn out like this.

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