The fingernails were split and bleeding, the hand ended at a severed wrist. Gradually it crawled across the floor, searching for something? Lifting the pretty throw draped across the sofa it scuttled underneath…
The camera panned out. The narrator whispering….. Now the female waits, it is mating season. She is a lone zombie hand, she can release pheromones….
Then… And here they are, five smaller hands, distinguished by not wearing nail varnish……
In the spring, the narrator said, there could be fingers…..
Full moon tonight she said…
Yes, he said, I know.
It’s fate, she said, it can’t be helped.
But what if?…. You’ll be OK I think, she said.
The moon is up according to the astronomical clock….
But I feel NOTHING?!
It’s cloudy, and it’s behind those buildings, she said.
Oh, hell, what can I do?
Wait, relax, it’ll be OK she replied.
Moments later the fur started to grow, body twisting, face elongating. A howl began..
Are you OK, he said?
Run! She growled…..
Full/harvest moon tonight. The howling started about an hour ago. Somewhere up the mountain there must be a wolf? I didn’t know they had them in Wales.
We are staying in a holiday let, a caravan. I got it online as a late booking. Yes I know, but the reception isn’t very good round here. I’ll call you back later.
Hi again, yes I know its late, but Jeff didn’t come back. I don’t know where he is and I didn’t know who else to phone? Police? No, I don’t think I need them….
Thanks for ringing back, I’ve found my charger now, got it plugged in so I should be able to talk. No he’s still not back, the car has gone so I think he must have gone to the village. Yes there’s a pub… Yes he might have gone there. Guess I will have to wait until closing time….. Did you hear that? Yes it was a howl, I think it’s getting closer……. Brrrrrrrrrrrrr……..
Red hair and green eyed, pale skinned, she stood in the garden in the rain. She looked out over the countryside and remembered her old family farm.
Sadness overwhelmed her as she thought of her mother and father. It was ten years ago since they had died and she wished they were still here. She wanted to be able to pick up the phone and talk to them. She’d always called on Sunday nights. Then one day her father was ill, and in hospital, he passed away that night . Later in the same week her mother died of a heart attack, they said she had a broken heart.
All this was long ago, but the longing to be with them never ended. Her sister had stayed on the farm and inherited it. The problem was they didn’t get on anymore. She couldn’t face going home to the farm. She thought of her red hair, her green eyes, but she had no fire in her mind, no jealousy in her thoughts. The outside did not signify how she felt. She went in and closed the back door.
Her face seemed chiselled and angular, it was pale and smooth. The one blemish was a small mole just below the left side of her mouth. Icy, that’s what he thought, like an ice sculpture. Her manner was friendly though, a slight smile played around her mouth as they chatted. He was attracted to her and decided to ask her to go for a drink.
At the bar he asked her what she wanted? Vodka and tonic was her reply, no ice.
They sat and drank and chatted, he felt closer to her than anyone else he’d ever met. He held her hand and she smiled that quiet smile again.
Look I’ll give you a lift home he said. No problem, it’s on my way. She readily agreed.
As they pulled up outside her house he leaned towards her, a little peck on her cheek, it felt cold under his lips. He looked into her tranquil blue eyes. She took his face in her hands, directing her mouth towards him, pulling his face down, inwards. He felt the cold now, sharp, icy, his mouth was numb. The chill spread across his face, his head. Despite the heat he was freezing, shivering. The kiss continued until his eyes glazed over and he slumped forward.
Sorry hun, she said.
You daft ‘aipath! What you doin’ collectin’ stones in yer at?
I wanted em fer th’garden. Twill make a nice dressin’ ont top of the pots.
Yer an owd idiot Mon! Yer ed’s full o’ gravel dust now don’t yer know?
Yer ed’ must be rattlin’ like an old stone path being walked on, yer numpty.
Oo you callin’ a numpty? If tha’dud na like me, why dids’t tha marry me?
Becowse I luved yer. An thays the truth o’it.
Trying to write in some sort of dialect. Apologies for it.
In the forest it was gloomy, rain had been falling all day, and a grey swirling cap of clouds seemed to sit just above the treetops.
As she walked into the clearing she looked up. No sign of sunshine. It was almost as dark there as under the trees. At least there was a pool which looked clear. She had got a camping stove and would soon be able to make a hot drink. This then would be her camping spot for the night. Only another 20 miles to her destination.
Then as she prepared her evening meal, the clouds started to part and light streamed into the glade.
The light seemed to trigger movement. All around her the ground seemed to lift up into humps which turned into writhing figures in human form. They had been held down by green tendrils of leaves. The green men. An ancient myth. She screamed as she realised they were surrounding her, mirroring the surrounding trees. Tendrils reaching out and pinning her to the ground. She had realised too late that they were carnivorous plants.