Say a little prayer

I slam my car door, and inhale the sweet smell of a summer evening. I love the peace of evening walks, especially through the national forest only about a five minute drive from home. Bending over I double check my laces, stand and lock the door, then head towards the seldom-used path that I know like the back of my hand.

I'd walked this trail since I was a kid, and as I walk along I spot the trees that I had carved on in my high-school years. The further along I walk the more vibrant the sky becomes, hues of red mixing with blue and yellow and orange, the clouds drifting across the lightly canvas like God's paintbrush.

My shoes crunch on a few twigs and I stop to pick them up, just for something to busy my hands. Right before I can touch them, I realize that they aren't twigs, but pale white bones. Upon further inspection they're cast about the trail and some in the foliage, like someone tosses them into the air like a shower of confetti.

They all seem to have carvings in the shafts of the bones.

I stand quickly, look around, and turn back down the trail for the parking lot. I walk for a while, looking for my carvings on the trees or the occasional familiar boulder, but none show. I quicken my pace and I come upon a tree with an old hunter's mark carved into it and I immediately realize that I've been walking further away from my car. At this point my heart is beginning to pound and I fall into a light jog, heading in the opposite direction of the mark and towards the lot.

My eyes flit across the trail, frantically looking for the landmarks, but none show their faces. I jog until the sun has just about set and I stop, my hands on my knees to try to catch my breath. I squint at the tree nearest me and see that there is another carving, this one of a rune type symbol, marking the very close proximity of the old church and graveyard long reclaimed by nature.

I turn the direction of where I came and within a few feet the church comes into view. I feel bile rising in my throat and it takes everything in me to not scream. The last light of the sun casts deep and eerie shadows over the building.

Within it, light flickers and shadows dance. A slow drumbeat echos across the lawn, a heartbeat in the night.

I turn to make a run for it back in the woods. I don't go more than a few paces before I find myself at the back of the church. I'm shaking and terrified. Left with no other option, I slowly approach one of the windows, crouching low and peering in through the gaping window.

A group of black-robed people dance and twirl in a circle, surrounding a man bound and gagged, lying prone in a shallow-dug pit in the floor, the floorboards cast to the side of the room. Some of the people beat on drums, slowly picking up the pace.

The man writhes and tries to yell but not much gets past the gag. I watch on as the drum beats get faster and faster, the people along with it. It reaches a thrum of beats and the whirling of people becomes almost a blur, then suddenly all goes silent and still. The people all face the man in the pit, still as statues.

He struggles harder, frantically trying to free himself. He looks around for anyone, anyone to help him, then his eyes find mine. He stills a moment, right before a hand thrusts out of the dirt, grabbing him by the throat.

I hold my hand over my mouth as another emerges from the dirt, then arms, then a head that's so covered in dirt when the mouth opens it cracks a jagged grin in the odd mask. It opens wide and rips the man's throat out, trachea partially sticking out of its mouth as it chews. It leans in and takes another bite, feasting on the dying man. The sounds are awful. Crunching, slurping, ripping, and smacking sounds echo in the still silence.

The cloaked figures all slowly get to their knees and bow low, their heads on their hands on the floor. The creature continues eating, bones and all.

When the man's head is severed from the body, the creature tosses it aside and continues on the body. After it's eaten its fill of the man, the creature drags its body out of the pit. It stands, peering down at the people. It gurgles something and they sit up, their faces peering up at him. It points to the pit and gurgles something, and two, three, five hands free themselves, dragging awful creatures from the pit. They are all shorter than him but their arms nearly touch the ground from their hunched stature. Their faces all resemble something a kid might make out of clay, an awful imitation of a human face. They have eye sockets, but only two have an eyeball. Their noses are bent or ripped clean off, their mouths too wide and their teeth jagged and broken. Their tongues are fat worms that lick the openings of their mouths, no lips to be had.

Their bodies are mottled and bony and wiry. They walk up to each of the cloaked figures and sniff them. A couple even lick the people, no one daring to move as the creatures explore.

A worshiper walks in through the doors, startling a few of the cloaked, and bows to the Leader, then presents him with something. It holds it up to the light and the creatures gargle.

The Leader looks around slowly, gargles becoming more and more like words, the shape of them rough and gargled.

As he speaks, I can make out bits and pieces. One word sounds like bone, another like loop. He says something about sacrifice and gestures down to the corpse. Then he stills and his head snaps in my direction.

It says, clear as day, "Hunt."

I take off running for my life, howls and footfalls close behind me.

Branches rip my clothes and slash my skin as I dash through the woods. I take sharp turns, left, right, right again but I can't shake them. My limbs burn and my lungs are raw but I push forward. As I feel myself slowing and I feel the hot breath of the creatures on the backs of my arms and neck, I pray.

For my escape, even for a quick death. They gurgle and howl behind me and I feel a new jolt of energy and I push forward through the woods.

A spark of hope alights in my chest when I see pinpricks of light up ahead, and I run faster.

I almost scream when I stumble out into a clearing, right back at the church. A moment's hesitation is all it takes for the monsters and people to emerge from the forest's edge, surrounding the entire clearing. They approach slow, and I back away, all too aware of the church looming ever closer to me. My breaths come out in short puffs, my throat on fire.

I look beside me and see the church empty, the candles shinning bright.

In a last ditch effort, I run into the church and slam the doors closed. As I slam them shut, I silently say my final prayer, begging for them to stay shut and keep those things from me. Though I doubt it would matter, the windows were shattered and cracked.

As a scratching sound issues right by my head, I accept my fate. I just hope they will be merciful enough to make it a fast death.

Something growls on the other side, then falls silent. For a moment I listen, but no sounds come from behind the door. I press my back against it and bite back a scream as I see the monstrous creature watching from the circle of candles.

"I didn't see anything," I gasp, trying to catch my breath.

"Your lies smell sweet," It retorts, "Your fear, delicious."

I look around at the battered windows, monstrous faces peering back at me. One claws on the glass, The sound grating on my ears.

He steps to the edge of the circle, careful to not cross the markings on the floor.

"You're trapped," I say, hope blooming in my heart.

"For the moment." He gestures to his creatures and they begin to grow into a frenzy, barking and scratching, but still not breaching the building. As I watch, a cloaked person moves to put its hand through an empty window but its hand chars from invisible fire. They let out an awful scream and retreat.

The Creature laughs.

They can't get in either? Great. Trapped with a person eating monster and surrounded by more person eating monsters.

"Fool, using an arcane spell. You know it will not last." It laughs and I'm even more confused.

"Don't be so confused, I smell the blood dripping off you, smelled the magic as my foolish follower touched the barrier."

I step away from the door and see my bloody hand prints pressed into the wood. The slight indents \bleed from slashes slowly from in the palms.

"Not long, little witch." It says, the mask crackling as The Creature grins.