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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2153008
Treasure rarely comes without a price
"The Road Least Traveled"
996 wrods

“Are you sure? Check the map again.” There was an eagerness in Phillips’ voice.

Mathias turned and raised his hands in exasperation. “Am I sure? Really?” He thrust a thumb over his shoulder. “Does that look like anything other than a secret forgotten path?”

Phillip stepped past his friend and stared. “I don’t know, man. Could just be an old riverbed.”

“Yeah, exactly,” replied Mathias, throwing an arm around his friend's shoulders, “that’s why it’s secret.”

The path stretched about a hundred feet south before slowly curving out of sight to the east. The banks had long ago become overgrown with rich green moss and small plants. Tall trees lined either side. Ancient stones jutted through the carpet of leaf-litter that blanketed the ground.

Sighing, Mathias carefully pulled out the old map and gently unfolded it. “Here, see this faded line?” His finger traced along the surface. “That’s gotta be this path. There isn’t anything else around here.”

Phillip looked at the line for several seconds before turning to look at his friend. “Son of a bitch, Matty, we actually found it.”

Mathias returned the map to the ziplock bag and then his backpack. “Come on man, let’s go find us some long lost treasure.”

While they walked, the reality of this adventure becoming real weighed on them and they began discussing what needed to happen next.

“Now that there just might actually be treasure, we should probably prepare for the worst.”

Phillip stopped and looked over at Mathias. “What the hell do you mean, worst? Dude, what didn’t you tell me?”

“Come on, don’t stop.” He kept walking, forcing Phillip to catch up. “The treasure is supposedly cursed.” He laughed even as he said it. “But isn’t that part of every treasure hunt?”

“The treasure has an evil curse? Are you kidding me?”

“It’s a curse, Phil. I don’t think a curse can be anything but evil. Come on, man. Don’t tell me you believe this.”

Philip stared at his feet. “I don’t know, Matty. So far everything has been pretty damn accurate. Why wouldn’t there be a curse?”

“Oh, I’m sure someone actually said a curse of some kind but it’s just words. Maps are real, Phil, magic isn’t.”

“I’m not convinced.”

Mathias again laughed. “Then I probably shouldn’t mention the beast that guards the treasure.”

Phillip stopped short and threw his arms into the air. “Are you kidding me? What the hell, man!”

Mathias grabbed the strap of Phillip’s backpack and tugged. “Quit being so freaked out. There’s a clearing about a mile away where we can set up camp.”

Phillip grudgingly walked along. “Alright, tell me about this monster or whatever it’s supposed to be.”

Mathias’s voice lowered, trying to be dramatic. “Well, legend has it, the treasure is guarded by a mysterious creature known as the Wild Man of the Woods.”

“You mean freaking Bigfoot?”

“Don’t interrupt. But, yeah, probably Bigfoot. What else could it mean?”

“Dude! That would be so awesome to meet Bigfoot!”

“Really? You gonna walk up to him and shake his hand or something? ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Bigfoot.’”

Phillip chuckled. “No. It would probably be more accurate that I’d be screaming apologies in his direction while running away and trying to not shit myself.”

“I think I’d give up my share of the treasure to see that.”

“Ha! I’m going to hold you to that, buddy.”

Laughing, they joked about what the treasure could be, assuming there was any actual treasure to be discovered.

They found the clearing easily enough and set up camp. After a light meal, they turned in, excited for tomorrow.

Mathias opened his eyes. He could tell by Phillip’s breathing his friend was also awake. As quietly as he could, Mathias slipped from his sleeping bag and began putting on his boots. Phillip did the same, neither taking their eyes off the tent flap.

They crouched in silence, listening.

Something drummed its fingers along the canvas material and screeched, chilling them to the bone. Half wood splitting and half infant’s nightmare cry, Phillip thought it might be laughter. The tent starting shaking as something pulled it upwards.

“Run,” Mathias screamed, pushing past Phillip and slipping under the rising tent. Phillip quickly followed. Outstretched branches grasped at their clothes and tore their faces as they ran deeper into the woods.

“Go, go, go!”, Phillip kept repeating. His lungs were burning from the unexpected exertion. Somewhere ahead, Mathias let out a horrified scream that ended abruptly.

Phillip suddenly burst from the tree line and found the ground no longer there. His legs flailed out from under him and he fell onto his back, momentum carrying him over the cliff. His hands frantically scrambled for anything. His fingers dug into soil and he jerked to a stop. He hung there, his tenuous grip the only thing keeping him from falling.

“Mathias! Jesus, Mathias!” he screamed looking around. Far below, a wide river raged past, splashing violently against the cliff wall. “Mathias!”

Phillip scrambled with his legs and pulled up. He was exhausted but death was a great motivator. He was able to get one arm up and over, hugging the edge tightly. As he prepared another attempt, the sound of breaking branches made him pause. He could see it walking towards him. It sure as shit wasn’t Bigfoot.

The thing was tall and emaciated, ashen skin stretched taut over protruding bone. Long thin arms pushed aside branches with ease. It stared at its prey with hollow eyes and grinned through tattered lips. Teeth, jagged and sharp clicked together in anticipation. A giggle escaped its throat, more ragged hiss than anything.

Phillip could smell it now, a faint odor of rancid putrified flesh. He screamed, causing the thing to clap gleefully as it reached the edge of trees. Suddenly he heard something over the rushing water. His name! Someone was calling his name!

“Damnit!” He let go as the thing lunged forward.
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