"Be careful in that case." Matt watched Joe turn on the flashlight and head out, down the ladder. He listened as his footsteps wandered off. And waited. It had only been a minute, but already Matt's nerves were getting to him. The fear crept over him in the way he'd only imagined earlier, the fear of being alone in this place. He wanted to call out to Joe to make sure everything was okay, but didn't dare raise his voice. The silence was overwhelming, and had a firm grip over his instincts. Eventually, a good ten minutes had passed and Matt was breaking under the pressure but could not do a thing about it. But then, salvation to his ears came, footsteps. They were coming towards the tree house, Joe had returned. They met the spot that the ladder was, and began climbing. The gaslight suddenly died out just as he heard Joe nearing the entrance, leaving only the slight glint of moonlight.
"Joe?" Matt called in a whisper at as great a volume as a whisper would permit. There was no response, and he saw the dark silhouette of someone appear in the entrance someone who was not Joe. And it was laughing suddenly, laughing maniacally, and Matt was nauseous with terror. He couldn't make a sound, but felt his heart beating at a ferocious speed, and suddenly could make out the twisted grin of the man who had made his way to Matt's feet, laughing more and more, in a way that could never be described as sane. Then, the man was hulking over Matt, his breath could be felt on Matt's face, and the blade of a knife was revealed, glimmering in the moonlight. As if in slow motion, as Matt's senses lost perception, he gazed, unable to move at the jagged edge of the knife being held closer to him, and then all went black.
He awoke, and opened his eyes to stare above at the overhanging limbs with the moon just barely visible through them. He could hear the sound of water running. And turned his head to behold the creek, trickling through the bed of mud and rocks. And the barbed wire fence, but there was something more. He recognized the sound of flies buzzing, and made out a dark shape in the sight of the fence to resemble something of a body, horribly twisted and mangled, suspended still just above the running water. Some liquid, Matt guessed it to be blood, dropped steadily from the crude mass of rotting flesh, into the water. And there was a scream, from off in the distance, coming from the field where the barn lay. His fear was great, but his will was now greater, he stood to his feet, realizing how close he was to the truth, and quickly ran through the creek, past the hideous, mutilated boy that hang beside his path. He made his way through the thicket, ignoring the thorns that tore into his skin, until he came to the opening of the field. The night air was hot and humid. He ran through the field and watched as the barn came closer into sight. There was a light, it was coming from the opening on the side, where above was the loft.
|