Author's note: This story is one installment in a five-part anthology series involving Kelser Moor. Please enjoy.
Hannah and Joey walked happily down the path, laughing and chatting like little children.
“Hey, look,” Joey exclaimed, pointing a finger at a nearby farmhouse.
It stood just on the cusp of a woodland area, obscured by a cluster of trees. The windows were greasy with dirt and grime, and the house’s wooden exterior had been worn by the elements, but there were fresh footsteps in the mud and a single light on in one of the bedrooms. A small field of sheep sat quietly in front of the property, seemingly undisturbed.
“That’s where Old Jimmy lives, the guy with the crooked eye,” said Hannah. “Do you remember the group of kids that went missing around here? Well, I heard he ate them and buried their skeletons in that field. I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s a total creep.”
“I heard he set a whole flock of cattle on fire and let them loose across the countryside. He’s crazy like that, apparently.”
“I’ll give you five bucks if you go over there and knock on the door,” Hannah challenged with a mischievous grin.
Joey sniggered excitedly, considering the idea.
“Nah,” he responded, with a dismissive wave. “He’s not worth the trouble. Let’s check out the field. Maybe we can find some skeletons of our own.”
“Are you crazy? I was only joking about the five bucks. That old coot'll probably shoot us if we get close enough.”
“We'll be fine. He never even comes out of the house anymore. The worst he can do is yell at us.”
“Alright, if you’re sure,” Hannah muttered, still somewhat uncomfortable with the proposal. For a second, she swore she saw a pale silhouette in one of the farmhouse’s windows, but within a moment, it had vanished.
The pair shared another crude laugh at Jimmy’s expense, and they strolled onwards towards the field. The smell of fresh soil grew slowly stronger as they reached the splintered gate. Just before Joey could place a hand on its rough surface, Hannah stopped, holding him back with her hand.
“There’s something here,” she said, gesturing to a beaten signpost.
"WARNING: FOOT AND MOUTH. KEEP OUT." It read, in faded, painted letters. Hannah narrowed her eyes a little.
“Isn’t that some sort of disease? I don’t want to come down with something.”
Joey sighed, with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
“Humans can’t get Foot and Mouth, dummy, only animals. We’re fine.”
“Are you sure? Why would they-
Joey tutted and walked through the gate, cutting her off. Mildly irked, she trailed meekly behind him.
The sheep awkwardly trotted away whenever the pair got close, backing up into a corner and baaing timidly. They seemed only to gather around the field’s edges, leaving a sizeable spot in the middle devoid of droppings and overgrown with uneaten grass.
“That’s funny,” said Joey. “They don’t look infected with anything.”
Hannah paused suddenly, noticing a group of fissures in the ground. Thick, lengthy fractures were split through the dirt, like a broken window. A strange feeling washed over her as she ran her fingers along the cracks. They felt almost…warm. As if they were alive.
“I don’t like this…something’s wrong. This place just feels off,” Hannah spoke nervously, glancing back and forth at the sheep. Was it her imagination, or were they all just…staring? Not eating, not tending to their young. Just staring at her and Joey.
Joey looked over his shoulder, approaching Hannah with a smug expression that masked his growing anxiety.
“Stop being such a baby, they’re just sheep.”
“It’s not really the sheep I’m worried about…”
Joey noticed it too. Dead silence, completely out of the blue. Not even the tweet of a bird or the rustle of wind along the grass could be heard in the void of noise. It was like time had frozen. Joey’s face turned deathly pale, and with wide eyes, he pointed down at the grass.
A single human finger lay upturned on the soil, shrivelled up and covered in flies. The skin was flaky and bloodless, and the nail was hanging loosely by a small strip of tissue.
“Those m-missing… k-kids…” Joey finally spoke, frozen in horror.
Hannah saw a face from the corner of her eye and gasped. It was Old Jimmy, watching from the farmhouse window with his crooked eye and an anticipating smile on full display.
Without warning, a gargantuan foot fell from the sky, crushing Joey like a cockroach before soaring back out of sight.
Hannah screamed, only managing to turn back towards the gate before a huge mouth broke through the cracks in the soil, swallowing her whole and disappearing back into the earth.
Jimmy stared from the farmhouse window, struggling to contain his laughter. With a wicked smile, he added two more tally marks to the blackboard in his hands.
“Number twenty-six...and number twenty-seven. Heh. Never gets old,” he remarked, leaning back in his rocking-chair.
“Never gets old.”
Tales of Kelser Moor