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Short stories: Tales of horror

back to the earliest days when my own parents brought me camping up here.

What had once been a pleasant memory of peaceful times was now becoming one of sadness and loss. This might be the last time I'd ever see this wooden bridge. It would outlive me. In a way, I thought of it as my legacy to mankind, a way to share the feelings I'd felt in better days.

The sun was a quarter of the way up when I came back to the cabin. I pulled the latch, and the door swung open. I had been so lost in my reverie that it took me a moment to realize that it hadn't been locked. I was sure I'd locked it.

Time was up.

I pulled the gun from my pocket, and scanned the room like a cop. Nothing.

As quiet as I could, I moved toward the bedroom, the only section of the place with its own separating door. It was open a crack. I saw a shadow swirl in the sunbeams. He was in there.

I raised the gun, cocking it in silence. I advanced. I would be damned if I'd just let the bastard take me down to hell with him. He might steal my soul he may have already but he'd have to fight me for it.

Two steps away, the door swung open. I saw his silhouette against the bright light of the ascending sun shining through the drapes. I fired.

I'm sure I hit him square in the chest, and he was blown back into the room. I emptied the clip into him. At least two rounds struck his head.

Let's see the son of a bitch come back from that.

I crossed the threshold to see what I'd done. To make sure he was dead. I was elated; I might yet win free.

My eyes didn't adjust as quickly as they had in my youth. The first thing I noticed was the blood. It struck me as odd. Somewhere inside, I knew he shouldn't bleed.

Then I saw the painted toenails, wrapped in a leather sandal. My heart stopped.

I leapt next to the body, the gun tumbling to the floor somewhere behind me. I saw the pool of blood spreading from underneath her. Her white sundress, stained crimson forever. She'd never forgive me for that.

I caressed her soft hair, feeling the wetness against my palm where I'd injured her. Blank eyes stared up at me.

My Brenda. The love of my life. I'd killed her.

I cried then. Lost in despair, I don't know how long I wailed to the heavens, beseeching that they take me instead, that it was my fault.

After a time, though, I knew the truth. It was the monster. This was what he'd done. He took my life from me in the only way that had any meaning; the only thing he could vanquish that I could never buy back.

All the money in the world was nothing to me, without her.

I went dead inside. I stood up from the body, now pale as death, and picked up my gun. I'd never expected this. Never had he taken a loved one from those he sought. Never had he even been seen by any save his victim.

But now he'd gone too far. Now he would pay.

I stormed out of the bedroom, leaving Brenda to bask in the sun's warming rays, one last time.

"Show yourself!" I screamed. "End this! Come to me!"

I raced to the drawer where I kept my ammunition. It was a matter of only a few seconds to reload the weapon. I spun around, seeing no one else. But I knew he was here. I could feel him.

I stalked the cabin from end to end, searching every shadow. Then, I went outside. I cast my gaze all around, but did not see the monster. Until, at last, I came to the cool river's edge.

With the sun now directly overhead, I could see clearly into the water's crystalline depths. Every rock, every fish, every cloud in the sky, I could see the whole world in that water.

And I saw him. There he was, hiding just beside the shore. I knew where he was, at last. Without a moment's hesitation, I put the gun to his head. He didn't even flinch.

I pulled the trigger.

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