Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25220801-20140817231954

Okay, this short story got deleted pretty sharpish. Is it a cliché or something?

The muted red glow of the clock tells me it's 3:23am and the dog's barking again. I permit myself a low groan as I lift my head from the cradled warmth of my pillow and reluctantly peel the covers off, the chill of the night leeching the warmth from my bones. I am not a happy man right now.

"This is the third night in a row Silas! This better be something fucking important or I swear I'll kick your ass!"

My mood's not improved as I shuffle down the stairs, hearing him dashing backwards and forwards across the kitchen floor, barking at the back door, eager to chase off another damn cat I bet. I reach the kitchen, the butt of one hand trying to rub the sleep from my eyes, the other fumbling on the wall for the light switch. My fingers finally come to rest on it when I'm abruptly stopped in my tracks. I'm looking across the darkened room to the window that opens into the garden, and there's someone out there. There's barely any light from the moon tonight, but I swear I can see a shadowy figure stood in front of one of the trees.

Silas is banging against my legs now, whining, but I can't take my eyes off whatever the figure is outside. There's something wrong with it. From here it looks about as tall as me, but something is off. Something is wrong with it's head.

My mouth is suddenly dry and I croak for Silas to hush. Slowly I edge across the room toward the window and the switch for the exterior lights, my bad mood now replaced with a mix of both hope and fear; hope that the garden lights will prove my growing panic as the height of stupidity, and the fear that it won't.

The dark figure hasn't moved an inch as my silent footfalls bring me closer to the switch, closer to the window, and closer to.....it. Silas whines by my side and licks my hand, seeking assurance, but I have none to give as my eyes remain riveted to the misshapen thing outside, trying to pick out it's form from the shadows it seems to be born from.

Again I fumble for a light switch, but this time I'm fully awake. A few quick breaths, a sudden hardening of the will, and I flick the switch. The garden is bathed in light.

I look at the tree, and instead of seeing a figure, I see what I'd mistaken for one in the darkness. An animal is pinned to it through the neck by a broken shaft of wood. It's eyes are empty and glassy as they stare at me as if in blame. It's limbs hang loosely down by it's sides, it's stomach ripped open and the contents trailing down in a bloody tangle to the grass below. The breath catches in my throat and I'm about to retch, when I recognise the collar around the animal's neck.

The thing licking my hand begins to laugh. 