I actively entered the indie horror scene approximately two years ago. Since that time, I have done several beta and ARC reads for several different authors. I have also started editing. I have a certificate from Udemy and am nearly finished with a certificate from Poynter/Aces. When I’m not devouring words, I am a labor and delivery nurse.
THE PYRE
by
Heather Ann Larson
The firepit burned bright, and as more wood was added, the form burning within couldn’t be seen.
***
Living in the country, Jim spent a lot of time outdoors. He had the space, so he built a large, elaborate patio with lavish and comfortable furniture. He also had a giant firepit, which he sat in front of with three fingers of whiskey at least three times a week.
He was on the patio that night, staring at the stars above and contemplating the vastness of the universe when he heard a commotion coming from the hedges along the west edge of the property. It was a sound he had never heard before; there was plenty of wildlife around his property, but this didn’t sound like anything he had encountered previously. It was bigger, more aggressive, and far louder.
He grabbed his 12-gauge Winchester and sauntered over to the bushes. Jim approached the hedge with less caution than he normally would have—the three fingers gave him some brave swagger he wouldn’t otherwise have. He raised the shotgun as he peered inside.
The fire suddenly flared, giving him a moment of bright orange background light that illuminated the hedge in a dark orange glow. A strange shadow appeared in the hedge, a moving shadow in a shape Jim had never seen before. It was shaped like the wendigo pictures he had seen in a book he recently read; antlers blended in with the hedge branches, long, lanky arms that reached the ground, a beastly body covered in hair that melted into the leaves on the branches.
Jim sucked in a gasping breath, tripped over his own feet, and landed on his ass, discharging his shotgun as he went down. He dropped the gun and backpedaled several feet before stopped to take another close look.
Whatever he saw, or thought he was, wasn’t there.
I better back that glass down to two fingers.
***
Alice, Jim’s long-time best friend, came over a few nights later. They sat on the patio as Jim recounted his encounter a few nights previous. He laughed at himself as he animated the ending part of the story, going so far as to throw himself on his ass; Alice had tears running down her face from laughing so hard when he finished.
“Maybe we’ll get to see your boogeyman again tonight,” Alice quipped, wiggling spooky fingers at him. “Grab your Christmas ornaments, we can decorate it up!”
Jim felt foolish about how he reacted to a few shadows the other night, but it felt good to relay it to Alice. Once he had it off his chest, he felt he could breathe again. Her jesting further lightened his mood about it.
Suddenly there was a noise from the hedges. It was the same noise as the other night, but in a closer part of the hedge. Jim immediately jumped from his chair, knocking it backward in his flight. He flailed around for the shotgun, then realized he had left it in the house earlier when he refilled their drinks.
Alice was still laughing. Jim certainly is playing up this creature, she thought. She didn’t pick up his panic until it was too late. When she realized he wasn’t joking, the wendigo was already on her. It stabbed it’s branch-like arm right through her heart, ripping the still-beating organ out as it withdrew the appendage. She fell backward, hitting her head on the brick.
Jim heard Alice’s head crack when she hit the ground. This can’t be fucking happening, he thought. The shock was too much, he was paralyzed with fear. He had convinced himself it wasn’t real, that what he had seen the other night was only shadow, yet here it was in front of him. And it was shoving Alice’s heart in its mouth.
The thing was taller than he originally thought—at least ten feet tall—and had a far wider rack than he thought possible. The strength it exhibited would have been impressive had it not been a creature of lore that Jim didn’t know existed until this moment.
The creature picked Jim up and snapped his neck. Jim’s entire body went tingly, like a sleeping limb. He didn’t feel it when the creature punctured his chest and removed his heart. What he did feel was his head burning when the thing threw him into the fire.
The thing threw Alice in next to him.
The last thing Jim saw before he blacked out was the wendigo dancing around the fire as it threw more wood on the pile.