Tiny Tina is Coming

I parked the truck off of the side of the road as I normally do on nights I decided to go hunting before the season ends. I grabbed my camel back tossed it on my shoulders and took off in a direction I saw fit to go.

For a while it had seemed that the longer I trucked along windy trails and dead trees the more my lungs felt heavier than normal during winter. Almost as if the air had tasted different somehow.

Still moving, searching for that perfect kill, I would peer down every now and again to look at my watch, seeing that time was moving more lethargic than it felt. I looked up to see the sun was squatting just behind the horizon which should have meant the time was 430 pm but my watch had read 12 pm. It didn’t make sense that the darkness was coming so fast but time was moving so slow.

At some point just before the darkness consumed the daylight I casually heard the sound a small girl laugh, giggle maybe even playfully laugh. It sent shivers down my spine as I spun around to see a small girl disappear into the darkness.

I grabbed my flashlight “click” looked around to see the forest standing still, no wind, no movement, no sway of the tree canopies or even the snow shifting. I took a couple min to gather my bearings. As I stood in silence breathing deeply as I could, I then heard just behind me an exhale. Spinning around I a small girl just out of view. The harder I listen I pick up on what I can vaguely hear, “Come and play, come to play, you time has come to an end, I want to wear your face.” Without hesitation I bolt the opposite direction as fast as I could dropping my rifle not thinking for a second I could have shot her blank in the face out of fear.

As I ran feeling the pressure of the snow under my boots I couldn’t make myself stop. There was something about what I saw that had caused my mind to force me to run.

As I darted in between trees “snap” I fall to the ground blood warms my shivering ankle. Pain rips through my nervous system at an alarming rate. Letting out a shrill cry, my echoes were silenced by the dead darkness that clamped its way over me as my flashlight flicked on and off.

My heart was racing, my blood was pumping heavily through my veins, my arteries, it sent my body into chaos.

Then I heard the same breath behind me but I feared to look back. Covering my ears with the palms of my hands. I felt the words creep into my ear lobes, “Please come play with me.” Getting louder and louder.

I cried out, “Stop, please leave me alone, go away.” But the silence deafened my ears with giggling and singing.

All of a sudden without warning I opened my eyes after having shut them for so long to deal with the pain and with one final flicker of light from my light, there she was in plain sight, red hair, green eyes white skin, scars gapped around her mouth to form a frown from her lips, with a raised hand-held with machete…

“Please, come play with me, I’m so lonely, I need a new face.”

  • Sarita Tinsley King

    I’m sorry, but I didn’t enjoy this too much. Mainly because of the timing and inexplicable plot. Did he just teleport out of his truck or something? I’m pretty sure I didn’t see anything about him getting out of it. Also, grammar, a tiny bit of spelling, i.e. “min”. Why didnt you just spell out minute? General fluidity of the story was off, and very unoriginal. I think it’s a good start, though. Keep trying.

  • Fiver

    Your character reacts so irrationally and this is probably because you try to cram all the “horror” in at once. Where is the slow build of paranoia? The uncertainty that perhaps he is hearing things or seeing things? He heard a child chanting, something that could easily be brushed off as children playing where they shouldn`t, and lost it in a second. Where is the stiff air and jumping nerves? The doubts and questions? Or any aspect of rising fear rather than the natural response to a sudden and intense fright (which, by the way, rarely translates as well into literature as developed fear and tension does)?

    Also, forcing in the reason for the dropped gun is utterly unnecessary. It would be more effective describing him dropping the gun when he runs off in a panic, probably from slamming into a tree or stumbling and dropping the gun to steady himself. Explaining things in too great detail or depth can ruin a story. Assume your reader is intelligent enough to infer certain factors.

    The tripping has to be the worst part of the story. Why did his ankle just start bleeding? Did he step into a bear-trap? Did he beat his ankle relentlessly against a rock or trip over something razor sharp? I don’t know about you but I have tripped many times in my life, twisted my ankle, but never severe enough to break skin or break my bone enough for it to jut through the flesh. While the resulting imagery of the flowing blood is rather nicely executed, the bleeding is unrealistic and unnecessary.

    I also feel as if you don`t establish the setting well enough, just how cold it is outside, just how cold the character is. Tie in a bit more tactile imagery to create a better setting and more imagery in general to elevate the response of your main character. Along those lines though, do not stop in the middle of your story to give a visual description of your character. You are halting the story, ripping your reader out of that world. It`d be more effective to give glimpse and flashes like when your main character starts to see things.