Monster Story
By McCarty Griffin
He started toward her, but she backed away, growling past him at the thick wall of trees. She glanced in his direction once more, then, tail tucked, disappeared into the underbrush.
“What the hell? Get back here, dog!”
He could hear timber cracking and the underbrush snapping as something huge tore down the trail, coming on like a locomotive straight for him. He turned and fled.
“Sweet Jesus, sweet Jesus, sweet Jesus,” he chanted as he ran, his mother’s long-abandoned religion returning to him in extremis. He could feel its hot breath on the back of his head and gagged from the rank smell it exuded. Jesus God, what was chasing him?
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