It’s coming for you, relentlessly pursuing. You did nothing to provoke it, but it won’t stop until it finds you. Wrong place, wrong time. You watched it rise that brisk autumn evening, tearing from the soil. Like some insidious newborn, you were the first person it saw, and now you’re its only prey.

It’s appalling; a skeleton wrapped in taught skin and sopping with putrid resin. Worn and receded fingertip flesh exposes its bone claws. Filth mats its long, wispy hair, and grave soil smears the rags it wears. Maggots wriggle from the gashes in its flesh, and winged insects buzz around the creature’s disjointed parts. Its broken jaw leaves a maw of crooked butter-colored teeth in a permanent growl as its sunken whitewashed eyes glare at you.   

You retreated in terror when you saw it crawl from its shallow grave, outrunning the shambling horror. After the adrenaline wore off, and you stopped to catch your breath, you spotted it a great distance away, still lumbering in pursuit under the park lights. You sprinted your way to the roads, waving down cars in hopes of escape. But no one stops for strangers any longer. So, you jogged down the highway towards town. Whenever you looked over your shoulder, a silhouette of the creature shuffled beneath streetlamps.

You reached your neighborhood. You tried explaining it to a familiar face, taking their nightly walk, but they laughed off your story as a Halloween prank, putting on their headphones and trotting off. So you hurried into your house, checking outside your window as you called the police. The operator dismissed your claim and hung up as the ambling nightmare appeared at the end of your street. Its crooked arms rose in your direction as if it identified which house was yours.

You rushed up the stairs, fumbling with your phone as you dialed your neighbor. The neighbor didn’t pick up as glass shattered downstairs. You grabbed for the nearest improvised weapon, a heavy lamp you’d hoped could stop it. But as footsteps stomped up the stairs, your nerves wavered. You hurried to the window, flipping through the clasps as the locked door handle of your bedroom door turned back and forth. Boldly, you crawled through the windowsill as the seam of your bedroom door burst open, revealing a revolting hand that threaded through the hole. You didn’t linger, diving into the sugarbush below.

Pain wracked your ankles as you limped your way through the fall leaves. Your phone screen shattered and twitched off. You called for help, but the seasonal wind swallowed your yells. Hurrying down your street, you hobbled to the closest lit-up home. You banged on the door, eyes peeled back as the creature emerged from your home. You perceived sounds of movement inside, but it took an unreasonable time. The creature was now in the middle of the street, coming your way. You couldn’t risk it and retreated to the sidewalk, limping in the police station's direction.

Someone drove by, honking their horn. Salvation. Upon attempting to enter their vehicle, they moved away, laughing as they observed you and the creature. Everyone thought it was a prank. No one believed you. Determined to survive, you raced the creature in a limping contest to the police station. You grew exhausted, watching as any passersby in vehicles ignored your plight.

You made it to the station, bursting into the reception area, making your claims of being pursued by a creature. The administrator sighed as an officer came from the back to investigate the commotion. After calming you, they listened to your story. The officer looked outside the station’s window but claimed no one on the street matched your description. That’s when the torment in your ankles grew overwhelming. The administrator examined your legs in horror. He explained you needed to be taken to the hospital.  

It all happened so fast from there. The ambulance arrived quicker than expected, and although you insisted the creature was real, they dismissed your story as a cruel Halloween trick. Paramedics brought you to the hospital, and after much poking and prodding, they put you into a bed, bracing your legs. The doctor explained that the traumatic event drew concern to your heart rate and blood pressure, which they’d need to observe. As you contemplated the last hour, you wondered if the night’s events might’ve been a ruse after all. But as you took your first calm breaths, gazing out your hospital room window, your heart dropped ten floors down.

The creature shambled in the parking lot, bumping into cars as it clumsily made its way to the hospital’s main entrance. You screamed for the nurses, who entered with a set of brawny, uniformed men who held you down. Your panicked breaths drowned you as you punched everyone away. You don’t know what they did to you, but your flailing arms grew heavy, and your body felt numb. Soon, you were in a daze.

You don’t know how much time passed before nurses left you alone, strapped down, in the room. The door remained open, and you heard the distant voices of staff discussing what to do with you. But soon their discussion became drowned out by something more disturbing. The friction of wet feet dragging on tiles caught your ear, followed by the buzzing of flies. A shadow grew in the hall, and although you knew what it was, whatever they’d done to you denied you the ability to react. It entered the room, maw agape, and talons reaching.

Why me? What did I do to deserve this? You asked as it trailed to your bed, bending down as if to kiss you on the forehead. A pain stabbed your forehead as the sound of an apple being bitten into filled your senses before they faded to black.

​

Justin Carlos Alcala (he/him) is an award-winning American novelist & short story writer. His works are most notable for their appearance in Publisher’s Weekly, the SLF Foundation Awards, and the University of British Columbia project archives. Justin is a folklore fanatic, history nerd, tabletop gamer, and time traveler. Alcala’s thirty plus short stories, novellas, and novels can be found in anthologies, magazines, journals, podcasts, and commercial publications. He currently resides with his dark queen, Mallory, their fey daughter, Lily, changeling son, Ronan, goblin-baby, Asher, and hounds of Ragnarök, Fenrir and Hilda in Bigfoot’s domain. Where his mind might be is anyone’s guess.