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Quinn had covered a far distance that day. Up at first light he'd packed his meagre rations away and again struck out through The Woods. He'd been musing for several hours now that it was strange the local folk still referring to this area as The Woods. In reality it was now a large forest teeming with a variety of life He'd seen tracks from wild boar and deer but he'd had plenty food then so had not stopped to hunt. Now, however, he was hungry and footsore and needed a good place to make camp and set traps.
The gentle sound of running water had him veering away from the small trail he was on and breaking off to his left. A glint of something beyond the brush caught his attention and he pushed his way through to be brought up short by the sight of the haven he'd discovered. A small waterfall, no more then 3 feet high, fed into a pool of clear water which then fell away again into The Woods. A verdant area surrounded the pool and this in turn was edged with bushes, similar to the one he'd pushed through, while flowers of the palest pink grew in abundance throughout the area. A perfect, if unexpected, camp site.
Quinn set about stripping off his hunters garb as quickly as humanly possible. The thought uppermost in his mind only to bathe and rid himself of his travellers' dust in the crystal pool. As he first plunged into the water the icy coldness stole his breath away but he soon warmed up and began to relax and enjoy himself. Eventually, feeling invigorated and refreshed, he waded out of the pool and lay in the grass to dry off naturally. The dying rays of the evening sun had been captured in the oasis and the warmth soon found him dozing.
Something alerted his senses and roused him to full wakefulness but still he lay there, with his eyes half closed, trying to pinpoint exactly what had disturbed him. A movement to his left caught his attention and looking fully in that direction he discovered a small swarm of butterflies had stopped to visit the little pink flowers. Smiling at himself for his momentary wariness he decided it was time he moved anyway, got dressed and saw about catching supper.
He tried to sit up and discovered that, somehow, he had entangled himself in the grass. Cursing to himself he tried to roll and break free but the grass still held him tightly. The beginnings of panic fluttered in his chest. This was impossible. The grass could not be stronger than he was. Grunting in desperation he tried again and again to free himself but to no avail. The soft grass he'd fallen asleep in may well have been made from steel as the strands tightly bound him. His struggling had caused some of the blades to open his skin and blood began to seep from the wounds. Then the butterflies came to investigate.
Their wings, which had caressed the flowers so softly, now torn into his body as if it were mere tissue paper. He struggled and screamed, all in vain, as the attack became more frenzied. Hundreds of tiny cuts were opened to allow his blood to flow freely into the earth and the earth itself shuddered. A shifting movement told him that the dirt beneath him was moving, parting to allow his body to sink deep into the ground. His screams were cut short as the earth covered him in his living grave and the ground above once more settled into stillness.
The morning sun rose to bathe the little haven with its' warmth and of the traveller there was no sign, even his backpack and clothes had disappeared during the night. The only difference of any note was that the once pink flowers were now a deep crimson as they drank greedily from the blood soaked earth.
The gentle sound of running water had him veering away from the small trail he was on and breaking off to his left. A glint of something beyond the brush caught his attention and he pushed his way through to be brought up short by the sight of the haven he'd discovered. A small waterfall, no more then 3 feet high, fed into a pool of clear water which then fell away again into The Woods. A verdant area surrounded the pool and this in turn was edged with bushes, similar to the one he'd pushed through, while flowers of the palest pink grew in abundance throughout the area. A perfect, if unexpected, camp site.
Quinn set about stripping off his hunters garb as quickly as humanly possible. The thought uppermost in his mind only to bathe and rid himself of his travellers' dust in the crystal pool. As he first plunged into the water the icy coldness stole his breath away but he soon warmed up and began to relax and enjoy himself. Eventually, feeling invigorated and refreshed, he waded out of the pool and lay in the grass to dry off naturally. The dying rays of the evening sun had been captured in the oasis and the warmth soon found him dozing.
Something alerted his senses and roused him to full wakefulness but still he lay there, with his eyes half closed, trying to pinpoint exactly what had disturbed him. A movement to his left caught his attention and looking fully in that direction he discovered a small swarm of butterflies had stopped to visit the little pink flowers. Smiling at himself for his momentary wariness he decided it was time he moved anyway, got dressed and saw about catching supper.
He tried to sit up and discovered that, somehow, he had entangled himself in the grass. Cursing to himself he tried to roll and break free but the grass still held him tightly. The beginnings of panic fluttered in his chest. This was impossible. The grass could not be stronger than he was. Grunting in desperation he tried again and again to free himself but to no avail. The soft grass he'd fallen asleep in may well have been made from steel as the strands tightly bound him. His struggling had caused some of the blades to open his skin and blood began to seep from the wounds. Then the butterflies came to investigate.
Their wings, which had caressed the flowers so softly, now torn into his body as if it were mere tissue paper. He struggled and screamed, all in vain, as the attack became more frenzied. Hundreds of tiny cuts were opened to allow his blood to flow freely into the earth and the earth itself shuddered. A shifting movement told him that the dirt beneath him was moving, parting to allow his body to sink deep into the ground. His screams were cut short as the earth covered him in his living grave and the ground above once more settled into stillness.
The morning sun rose to bathe the little haven with its' warmth and of the traveller there was no sign, even his backpack and clothes had disappeared during the night. The only difference of any note was that the once pink flowers were now a deep crimson as they drank greedily from the blood soaked earth.
Bloodsucking butterflies - excellent :-) Good beginning, good middle, strong ending - it's up there.
Stephen king great writer and this story I have to say again very nice. Just read it again excellent.
I quite liked this one.
Read it a few times now, and the ending still makes me feel... unsettled. I've been reading Stephen King (The Shining, Salem's Lot etc) for a while now, so that's quite a task.
Good bit of traditional horror, 'twas an enjoyable piece.
Read it a few times now, and the ending still makes me feel... unsettled. I've been reading Stephen King (The Shining, Salem's Lot etc) for a while now, so that's quite a task.
Good bit of traditional horror, 'twas an enjoyable piece.
Very nice.
Quinn had covered a far distance that day. Up at first light he'd packed his meagre rations away and again struck out through The Woods. He'd been musing for several hours now that it was strange the local folk still referring to this area as The Woods. In reality it was now a large forest teeming with a variety of life He'd seen tracks from wild boar and deer but he'd had plenty food then so had not stopped to hunt. Now, however, he was hungry and footsore and needed a good place to make camp and set traps.
The gentle sound of running water had him veering away from the small trail he was on and breaking off to his left. A glint of something beyond the brush caught his attention and he pushed his way through to be brought up short by the sight of the haven he'd discovered. A small waterfall, no more then 3 feet high, fed into a pool of clear water which then fell away again into The Woods. A verdant area surrounded the pool and this in turn was edged with bushes, similar to the one he'd pushed through, while flowers of the palest pink grew in abundance throughout the area. A perfect, if unexpected, camp site.
Quinn set about stripping off his hunters garb as quickly as humanly possible. The thought uppermost in his mind only to bathe and rid himself of his travellers' dust in the crystal pool. As he first plunged into the water the icy coldness stole his breath away but he soon warmed up and began to relax and enjoy himself. Eventually, feeling invigorated and refreshed, he waded out of the pool and lay in the grass to dry off naturally. The dying rays of the evening sun had been captured in the oasis and the warmth soon found him dozing.
Something alerted his senses and roused him to full wakefulness but still he lay there, with his eyes half closed, trying to pinpoint exactly what had disturbed him. A movement to his left caught his attention and looking fully in that direction he discovered a small swarm of butterflies had stopped to visit the little pink flowers. Smiling at himself for his momentary wariness he decided it was time he moved anyway, got dressed and saw about catching supper.
He tried to sit up and discovered that, somehow, he had entangled himself in the grass. Cursing to himself he tried to roll and break free but the grass still held him tightly. The beginnings of panic fluttered in his chest. This was impossible. The grass could not be stronger than he was. Grunting in desperation he tried again and again to free himself but to no avail. The soft grass he'd fallen asleep in may well have been made from steel as the strands tightly bound him. His struggling had caused some of the blades to open his skin and blood began to seep from the wounds. Then the butterflies came to investigate.
Their wings, which had caressed the flowers so softly, now torn into his body as if it were mere tissue paper. He struggled and screamed, all in vain, as the attack became more frenzied. Hundreds of tiny cuts were opened to allow his blood to flow freely into the earth and the earth itself shuddered. A shifting movement told him that the dirt beneath him was moving, parting to allow his body to sink deep into the ground. His screams were cut short as the earth covered him in his living grave and the ground above once more settled into stillness.
The morning sun rose to bathe the little haven with its' warmth and of the traveller there was no sign, even his backpack and clothes had disappeared during the night. The only difference of any note was that the once pink flowers were now a deep crimson as they drank greedily from the blood soaked earth.
The gentle sound of running water had him veering away from the small trail he was on and breaking off to his left. A glint of something beyond the brush caught his attention and he pushed his way through to be brought up short by the sight of the haven he'd discovered. A small waterfall, no more then 3 feet high, fed into a pool of clear water which then fell away again into The Woods. A verdant area surrounded the pool and this in turn was edged with bushes, similar to the one he'd pushed through, while flowers of the palest pink grew in abundance throughout the area. A perfect, if unexpected, camp site.
Quinn set about stripping off his hunters garb as quickly as humanly possible. The thought uppermost in his mind only to bathe and rid himself of his travellers' dust in the crystal pool. As he first plunged into the water the icy coldness stole his breath away but he soon warmed up and began to relax and enjoy himself. Eventually, feeling invigorated and refreshed, he waded out of the pool and lay in the grass to dry off naturally. The dying rays of the evening sun had been captured in the oasis and the warmth soon found him dozing.
Something alerted his senses and roused him to full wakefulness but still he lay there, with his eyes half closed, trying to pinpoint exactly what had disturbed him. A movement to his left caught his attention and looking fully in that direction he discovered a small swarm of butterflies had stopped to visit the little pink flowers. Smiling at himself for his momentary wariness he decided it was time he moved anyway, got dressed and saw about catching supper.
He tried to sit up and discovered that, somehow, he had entangled himself in the grass. Cursing to himself he tried to roll and break free but the grass still held him tightly. The beginnings of panic fluttered in his chest. This was impossible. The grass could not be stronger than he was. Grunting in desperation he tried again and again to free himself but to no avail. The soft grass he'd fallen asleep in may well have been made from steel as the strands tightly bound him. His struggling had caused some of the blades to open his skin and blood began to seep from the wounds. Then the butterflies came to investigate.
Their wings, which had caressed the flowers so softly, now torn into his body as if it were mere tissue paper. He struggled and screamed, all in vain, as the attack became more frenzied. Hundreds of tiny cuts were opened to allow his blood to flow freely into the earth and the earth itself shuddered. A shifting movement told him that the dirt beneath him was moving, parting to allow his body to sink deep into the ground. His screams were cut short as the earth covered him in his living grave and the ground above once more settled into stillness.
The morning sun rose to bathe the little haven with its' warmth and of the traveller there was no sign, even his backpack and clothes had disappeared during the night. The only difference of any note was that the once pink flowers were now a deep crimson as they drank greedily from the blood soaked earth.