Creative Writing: The Horse Farm Part 2

The Horse Farm

I yawned loudly as my tired body flopped onto my Uncles cracked and aged leather sofa. It had been a long day of mucking stalls, feeding the horses and cleaning out the tack shed. I could hear the loud thud of my Uncles boots hit the wood floors of his modest home as he came in for the night.
“Looks like we might be gettin’ a storm, eh Davey?” His warm chuckle finding my ears.
“If it rains can we still go riding tomorrow?” I shot up and stared at him like a dog that had just been denied a bone.
“Depends how bad it is. We’ll see though, okay?” His silver and gold beard curled up at the corners as he smiled at me.
“Thank God!” I did a little fist pump in the air for victory.
“Don’t be thankin’ him too quick, save that for your bed time prayers,” To my twelve year old brain it seemed to me that my Uncle Greg was being unfair and he had no right to tell me to go to bed. Looking back now, he had always treated me like a son and setting rules for me within his home was a way to keep me safe from something he might have known was out there.
I grumbled to myself as my Uncle pushed me down the hallway towards my inevitable doom disguised as a child’s bedtime. I flailed and tried my best to fight against his formidable strength in an attempt to maybe start a play fight hoping that might stall him. My Uncle grabbed me and slung me over his shoulder as I laughed and kicked at him. Throwing me onto my bed he flopped down beside me and the two of us laid there staring at the glow in the dark star stickers on my ceiling. It was quite for a little bit and I felt myself drifting off as we just laid there in silence.
A large growl broke me from sleeps hold and caused me to sit up right and stare at the open window that looked out towards the wood barn. My Uncle wasted no time jumping off the bed and closing the window tight. I watched him as he snapped the lock over and triple checked that it was secure.
“Damn coyotes,” He sighed under his breath. He ran his hand through his thick wavy blonde hair as he checked outside the window for any sighs of the growling creature. Up till this point in my life I had heard several wild animals noises; bears, wolves, and even coyotes. I am not sure what animal it was that made that sound that night but it sure has hell wasn’t a coyote, my Uncle knew that just as well as I did. It was like mother natures equivalent to nails on a chalk board, loud and shrill with a hint of lingering pain. It sent violent chills up my spine and left me feeling shaken.
“Don’t worry David. I’m sure it was just an injured coyote or a wolf, nothin’ to get all worked up over,” Uncle Greg assured me. I just nodded wordlessly in response.
“Get some sleep. We have another early morning tomorrow,” He gave me a hug before leaving me for the night. I still felt somewhat uneasy about that growl and I just knew that my Uncle would be outside checking the area for whatever it was that made the sound.
I tried my best to push it from my mind as I climbed into bed and cuddled into the warm fluffy alien printed bedsheets. It took me a good half an hour to calm down enough to get sleepy again but my curiosity still kept me awake. I cautiously slipped out of bed and tip toed towards the window on the opposite side of the room. I was about halfway when I heard the growl again, this time it was much closer. Have you ever heard a person growl before? Whether it was from them imitating a dog, or if it was a hint of a growl in an angry man’s tone? Either way, it doesn’t really matter because once you’ve heard it you know the kind of growl I’m talking about. The one I heard that night reminded me of a human growl, just less human. If that makes any sense at all. It was like a deranged mans imitation of what an animal might sound like mixed a shrill unearthly undertone.
I stopped dead in my tracks and just watched the window in complete horror. I was expecting some serial killer to pop up at the window and scare the shit of me. I wanted to run back to my bed and hide under the covers till morning, maybe even scream for my Uncle to come and save me. Come and save me from what though? Whatever it was hadn’t hurt me so what was I so afraid of? I swallowed hard and moved closer to the window, the house was all one level so unlike when I was at home I didn’t have height to keep me safe from the things that scared  me. My hands began to tremble as I heard something shuffling around near my window. My imagination soared to all these terrifying possibilities. So many monsters, so many things that could hurt or even kill me. My breathing started getting faster and faster as I got closer to the window glass and I could feel my eyes begin to water. I reached out to touch the glass, the rustling was getting closer but I was too scared to even run back to my bed. It had been growling and now I could hear it getting closer to my window.
My hand touched the glass and I prepared for the worst and for sometime I thought the worst would never come. The rustling stopped and all was quite except for the occasional ticking of my bedside clock. I leaned forward and looked out into the inky black night to see absolutely nothing there. I reluctantly removed my hand from the window and allowed a tiny wave of relaxation take hold of me. Maybe the wave was a bit too relaxing because it was at that point that I realised I really needed to pee. I laughed at how ridiculous I was being and dragged myself into the bathroom.
Having satisfied my curiosity and moderately handled my paranoia I was now feeling ready to settle in for the night. The cold of the house was starting to effect my exposed skin and I finished up in the bathroom quickly before heading back to my room. Upon closing my room door though my heart jumped into my chest and a scream forced it’s way violently up my throat.
Staring in through the window was something like I had never seen before. Its skin was hairless, pale and wrinkled and it’s blackened eyes stared in at me from outside. It looked like a naked mole rat only…human. It smiled at me baring it’s sharp uneven teeth, like shards of broken glass that had been stabbed into it’s bloody swollen gums. It’s nose looked to be broken and squished dramatically against it’s dirt stained face. The way it smiled looked broken and unhinged, almost as if someone had used fishing wire to pull up the corners to an impossible angle. It growled the same unholy growl as earlier and slammed it’s long disjointed hand against the glass causing a small crack to appear. I began to cry and I sank down against the wall of my room, no longer able to move my legs.
“Davey!? Davey, stop leaning on the door! Let me in! Say something for God’s sake!” My Uncle screamed desperately as he banged on the door. It took me a moment to realise that I was preventing my Uncle from entering the room by resting the weight of my body against the only entrance and I had to move if I wanted him there to protect me. I couldn’t bring myself to move even the slightest inch, I just sat there and cried hopelessly as the monster before me looked down at the crack it had created. It seemed to recognise that this fragile material was the only thing that kept it from getting to me, but tonight was not the night for that. It returned it’s focus towards my pathetic form on the floor and waved before dashing off at an incredible speed into the shadows of the night. From what I could tell the monster ran on all fours like some sort of feral humanoid, it didn’t look like a natural form at all. The entire encounter had lasted no more then ten seconds but it had felt like a life time.
Finally my uncle was able to push me far enough with the door that he could squeeze in. He grabbed me and held me in his arms as I sobbed like the scared little child that I was. He tried asking me what was wrong and if I was hurt, but I couldn’t answer him. I just cried and gripped at the material of his t-shirt and he rocked me back and forth in an attempt to calm my nerves. At least that’s what he’s told me of that night. All I can remember was focusing on the crack it left behind on my window and whose blood might’ve stained the handprint that accompanied it.
The Horse Farm: Part 2

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