The last day of the Coffin Hop is upon us! I have completed the challenge I set forth to do, take the eight words my friends of FB gave me and write a story with them, one episode at a time. I’ve just re-read the entire story and I’m fairly pleased with it. Do I think some of the words are a little misplaced – yes – but I did the best I could do. Hope you’ve enjoyed it!
Read Episode One here…
Read Episode Two here…
Read Episode Three here…
Read Episode Four here…
Read Episode Five here…
Read Episode Six here…
Read Episode Seven here…
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Episode Eight: Forest
The door opened into the darkest forest Brian had ever been in. He couldn’t see any sun breaking through the trees and it wasn’t until it occurred to him the sun had set that he felt a little better for having left the house.
With the door closed firmly behind him, Brian had no other choice but to follow the brickwork around until he found an entrance, or met up with someone who worked at the B&B. Not having any means to comprehend which way would be faster, he chose to go to the right.
It was a long walk, and one that gave him time to think. Along the way, he passed by a small cemetery lit by the moon shining through the canopy of trees, its headstones in serious disrepair. Making a mental note to remember to tell the staff, he continued hoping he didn’t have too much farther to go.
Within a few minutes he could see the lights from the exterior of the house and was glad he was almost out of the woods.
It struck as he was about to round the last corner that lead to the front of the house. A large hulking mass that smelled of stale sweat, patchouli and raisins.
Driving him to the ground, it lunged for his throat finding purchase as it squeezed. Brian could feel himself losing consciousness as he struggled in vain. Reaching out his hand, he tried to signal for help but there was no one around. Feeling his strength ebb, he gave in and relaxed into the animal, glad the ordeal of the weekend was finally over.
*
Clara found Brian the next morning, remote in hand in front of the television. His face was tranquil, looking as if he were at peace. The first responders on the scene told her he’d died of a heart attack. But something didn’t seem right to her…
All Rights Reserved © 2013 Julianne Snow
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