Horror

I found myself in a cold, wet place, unsure of how I got there. I wasn’t alone: the bodies of the other passengers and crew floated in the cold with me.

The last time I ever went fishing, I met an old guy with a limp and asked how he caught so many fish; there were at least ten in his basket. Wild-eyed and grinning he showed me the line of fish-hooks embedded in his calf.

“Give me your wallet,” hissed the man with the knife. I smiled, knocked the knife from his hand and tore his throat out with my teeth.

“There’s nothing in the damned cupboard, now go to sleep!” “That’s right,” cooed the strange voice once Mum left the room, “there’s nothing in here at all.”

I’ve been on the road for months now, town to town, city to city, and no one seems to see me. It’s as if I’m invisible, or dead, or.

He never knew what woke him that night. But there was no mistaking his mother’s demented face as her clawed fingers reached down to steal his breath.