Tagged: Jack Reigns

Our church worships at the altar of the Unholy Trinity. Its gospels are delivered as a trio of dark drabbles, linked so that Three become One. All hail the power of the Three.

I.

The statues filled the courtyard. Two women stepped carefully around them, not wanting to disturb their terrible beauty. The lifelike detail amazed them. Gilly reached out to caress one, frozen in agony like all the others. “Can you believe this? The artist made pores on its skin.” Her girlfriend Nora stepped closer. “Why are they all men?” A hissing noise makes them look up. A large serpent tail slides out of view. Gilly stepped back, heart racing. Nora picked up a stick, and leaned forward, searching. A hypnotic voice hums from behind a statue and asks, “Where is my tribute?”

II.

Clyde made it to the end of the trail, and the statues began exactly where he was told they’d be. An enormous scale art instillation, hidden deep in the forest, only for the most desperate to find. The rumors at university were true, all this abandoned art for the taking. He looked for a piece he could break off to present as a final project. A quick rattling noise made him jump and pause, there weren’t rattlesnakes here. “Are you admiring my art, young man?” a sultry, feminine voice asked. “Would you be interested in seeing more of my collection?”

III.

She wove between statues, missing the touch of a living thing, wishing attraction were a conscious choice. If only the ones I craved weren’t so fragile. Those at the far end of her garden were lost strangers, robbers, and thieves. The middle was filled with truth seekers, manipulators, worshippers of her cult. The ones closest to her home were those who’d entertained her, intrigued and attracted her. Four thousand years alone in this cursed forest and there would be no end to this hell. She wished her visitors understood, only those who meant her harm could be turned to stone.

Our church worships at the altar of the Unholy Trinity. Its gospels are delivered as a trio of dark drabbles, linked so that Three become One. All hail the power of the Three.

I.

The print in the mud was enormous, and the sight of it made the hikers pause. “Is that, like, a bear?” A.J. asked. No one answered. Theo, the closest, bent down to inspect it. Rico turned around to look down the trail behind the group. They all felt something watching them, waiting. A smell like rotting meat, body odor, and fecal matter wafted over the group. Rico gagged. A branch snapped under an enormous weight. A shape appeared between the trees. Dark and enormous, it resembled a tree trunk at first. The thing began sprinting towards them. The men ran.

II.

Angie heard the dogs barking out in the barn. Not barking; losing their goddamn minds. For the third time since she moved onto this sixty-acre lot bordering the Gifford-Pinchot National Forest, she thought she should get herself a shotgun. Homesteading as a single woman was no joke. She grabbed the flashlight and headed out. The remains of the goat stopped her short. Entrails stretched across the yard from the pen to the barn. A dog yelped in pain while another growled. Angie reached for her cell phone. The wall of the barn exploded outwards, carrying a dog’s body with it.

III.

Dispersed camping offered everything Beau wanted without bullshit rules and nasty outhouses. Nothing compared to waking up in the fresh cool morning and pissing into a mountain stream. He felt eyes on him and reached for the .357 revolver on his side. His fingers brushed the handle and something slammed into his body and sent him flying into the water. He gasped, and his face plunged into the rushing water. A huge reddish-brown animal walked closer, upright on two legs. It lifted his body, pained seared through his hip. It had taken a bite, and lifted him again for more.

Our church worships at the altar of the Unholy Trinity. Its gospels are delivered as a trio of dark drabbles, linked so that Three become One. All hail the power of the Three.

I.

The woods call to me like a helpless lover, begging for my embrace. My eyes are drawn to something I cannot focus on. I’ve taken several steps forward before I realize it. Butterflies flutter across my chest as I reach forward to push a branch aside. The trees are so beautiful; I am overwhelmed by the ocean of green. A deep, droning hum breaks through to my consciousness. It floods the air but not unpleasantly, like monks chanting. Sheena tugs on my sleeve. “Daddy, where are you going?” I pause and look down, one foot poised over the cliff’s edge.

II.

The forest service ranger pulled up alongside the empty truck. The driver’s side door had been left open to the elements. She parked, got out and looked inside. A child’s backpack sat slumped over on the floor. At the edge of the road, a sharp drop off revealed an empty expanse of crumbled rock and forest debris below. A streak of dried blood smeared across the rocks, trailing off into the trees. Backtracking, she wrote down the license plate on her notepad. A glint on the trees caught her eye. She paused, suddenly lost in the beauty of the forest. 

III.

Sheena picked her way through the woods, looking for a way down to where she’d seen her father fall. She heard a car approach on the road and ducked down under some ferns to hide. Daddy told her if anyone saw her, they’d be in BIG TROUBLE. Then they’d take her back to mommy; and she couldn’t go to the big water park. A rustling sound made her turn around. Nothing was there. A feeling overwhelmed her body, a feeling that if she kept walking into the woods, everything would be wonderful. A deep, quiet droning noise filled her mind.  

Our church worships at the altar of the Unholy Trinity. Its gospels are delivered as a trio of dark drabbles, linked so that Three become One. All hail the power of the Three.

I.

Dan walked the row of kennels, reviewing each dog up for adoption. Most of the pens were filled with either a snarling chihuahua or a smiling pit-bull. Evie said she’d kill him if he brought home a pit-bull. An idiotic looking lab mix was licking the concrete wall. The last kennel held a dog like he’d never seen before. A mix of black, red, and brown, the eyes were bright yellow and staring up at him, inquisitively. “Hello” Dan said, picking up the info sheet. The dog smiled, as if greeting him. He smiled back. “Says here you’re a kelpie.”

II.

Evie picked up another stuffed animal and threw it into the toybox. Since her husband had brought home that fucking dog, she had to be extra vigilant about not leaving things out. She hadn’t agreed, but he brought it home, the kids squealed, and that was it. She didn’t hate all dogs, there was just something so off about this one. It made her skin crawl, the way it stared, like it understood everything. She rounded the corner into the kitchen. The dog was standing on its hind legs, rummaging in a cupboard. She gasped and it turned to her.

III.

“MOMMY!” The screaming made both Dan and Evie sit straight up from a sound sleep. In a microsecond they were bounding out of the bedroom in search of the source. Their youngest stood in the entryway to the kitchen, screaming and pointing. Dan flicked on the overhead light. Blood painted the walls and floor, dripping off every surface. The stench was overwhelming. At the far end of the room sat the dog, yellow eyes glinting, perfectly clean. Its lips curled back, somewhere between a snarl and a smile. It got up, then continued to lift its body until standing upright.