Hunted

Six of us had gone camping in some remote woods. The first night we’d all gone to bed drunk and woken to a body lying in the middle of the campsite. We all knew it was Becky, because the torso wore her skirt. We couldn’t find her legs, arms or head.

We were three days hike from civilization and had started back that morning. During the day we lost Steven and Mary and that night Judy and Carl. Each time their limbs and head were collected.

A high pitched roar let me know it was hunting me and catching up fast. I didn't hold out much hope for my life, but I had to try and get away.

While running, I tripped over a branch and fell to the muddy ground with a painful thud.

I spun around to see Becky’s face, contorted in pain, her head attached to the body of a ten foot tall black beast. I saw more heads, dozens. They saw me too, pity and pain in their eyes.

The beast bore down on me, walking on the human legs of its victims. I wished for death, and looking at the heads, knew it wasn’t coming.

200 words