Tell A Tale — Gothic Fiction

Ron's Curious Walk By David Williams

The weather was bleak on the Sunday that Ron went for a walk, quite a normal activity of his. He let a breath escape his lips coming out as a white cloud in the cold winter air, normally it was a quiet affair where he would walk through the woods near his home, his quaint cottage at the edge of Merryside. The branches seemed to reach out to the clouds like skeletal fingers questioning for the sun wondering at its absence, his heavy boots crunched upon the dry leaves that had fallen this last winter, it was a simple pleasure of his but soon he would have to wait for spring to return before doing his walk again, in the distance the trickle of a river could be heard to which it would seem that Ron was headed, the sound of animals were scarce as they stayed in their warrens and trees preparing for the long winter, a distinct smell would touch upon Ron’s senses drawing a look of interest he knew this part well and he had yet to smell … rot?

Ron walked towards the smell mayhap it was an animal that had been killed but surely they would be sheltered in their homes as he ought to be, the trickle and the click of the woods around him seemed at odds with the smell though, he saw heavy boot prints scattered here and there and eagerly Ron moved driven by curiosity more than worry until he reached the clearing next to the tiny river its flow slow and the trickle loud enough to block the clicking, however he could swear that the smell came from here, he may be old but Ron did always trust his nose just as his Pa told him to.

He turned to walk away before almost tripping on a root, he let out a slight chuckle at the thought, in his mind he had the thought that it could’ve been a body he tripped upon but as he looked down it was naught but a root although it was curious there was a boot print an old one that seemed to match his own, that clicking was in the back of his mind now almost blocking out the trickle of water and yet he knew not where it came. After a shake of his head and a blink of his eyes he turned to walk before stopping to catch his breath, as he looked down he saw his hands didn’t look right, he shook them feeling like his mind was playing a trick on him but for a second he could’ve sworn his hands had been.. Grey? But they were their normal shade of old pale, still Ron felt shaken and decided to make for the river suddenly a snap could be heard behind him and he was knocked to the ground, his breath was cut from him, as his vision began to fade t’was his own eyes he saw staring back?

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