Bone Dry by Anna Jackson
I didn't notice it at first, the shadow that seemed to hover around the corners as I passed, the unfamiliar and out of place echoes that ricocheted between the rows and rows of shops and houses that lined each side of me. By the time I did notice, it was too late. He had already latched on to my scent, he had already decided that I was to be his next target, or more accurately, his next meal. I thought that I could escape him in the alleyways behind the houses, snaking and twisting in an unpredictable labyrinth that surely would be too difficult to follow. I was wrong. The second I stepped into the darkness of the enclosed passageway, I knew that I had made a mistake, and a grave one at that. I had a decision to make, fight, flight, or die. My instincts kicked in and my feet spurred forward without much thought, one foot in front of the other as if willing each other to move faster. The floor beneath me was uneven and littered with waste and rocks, I struggled to avoid the obstacles as I ran, weaving from alley to alley in complete desperation.
I turned a sharp corner into a smaller alleyway, my shoulder scraping against the rough brick wall as I moved, the night air stung my cheeks and my feet were growing tired, but I knew that I couldn't stop. I couldn't stop until I was far enough away, far enough that I couldn't hear the hideous noises coming from him. My heart sank as I heard something enter the alley behind me, crashing against the bricks as I had done earlier. My mind was telling me not to look but I couldn't help myself, I turned to look at him, no, at it, as my throbbing feet moved faster and faster along the cobbled stone floor, my heavy footsteps echoing around me as the alley became increasingly narrow. I could hear him behind me now, his limbs dragging on the floor, bone cracking against the pavement as he lunged forward. His stench permeated the air; the smell of mold and sweat mingled together in some horrific amalgamation. My breath heaved from my lungs as I hastily gasped for air, strands of my knotted hair plastering against the slick skin of my forehead. The end of the alley was fast approaching, as was the brick wall that concluded it. My eyes roamed around in my skull, frantically searching for my next move, until I realised. There was no way out. I had to try to do something, anything, I couldn't let him catch up.
I kept up my speed as the wall grew closer, preparing for the worst. I scrambled up the wall, the rough concrete grazing my knuckles and exposing my blood as I grasped at the top. He could smell me. I felt a clawed hand scratch against the exposed skin of my ankle, clutching at my torn jeans and dragging me back to the ground. I felt warm blood pool in my bruised cheeks as my face hit the ground, the taste of metallic defeat devouring my tastebuds. I felt myself being lifted from the ground and slung over his shoulder, but my eyes refused to open. Tears streamed down my cheeks and soaked into his bare flesh as I thought about what may happen next. Before I knew it, he was throwing me against some cold slab of metal, securing me with one bony hand against my fragile throat. I finally opened my eyes. I looked to where his eyes ought to have been, but I was met with empty black sockets devoid of all life. His sickly grey skin was cold and sagged, the bones protruding from beneath it. His arms were freakishly long, scraping against the floor as he stood in a crouched position next to me. His hand gripped tighter on my throat as I looked at him, the black claws of his fingernails digging into the soft flesh of my neck. A harsh rattling noise resonated from deep in his throat as his gaping mouth opened wider, revealing a mismatched set of yellowed teeth in jagged rows, circled in black grime. Tears cascaded down my cheeks as he crawled closer and closer before I felt his wet maw clamp against my neck. I felt the life sucked out of my body as he drank, my skin shriveling up and draining of all colour. They found my body weeks later. Shrunken and curled up with the teeth ripped from my mouth. Bone dry.
“I submitted this short story to a lot of magazines and presses that I thought would be a good home for my work, but it was consistently rejected immediately after submitting it. I lost confidence in the piece, despite loving it when I first wrote it. This is my last chance for this piece before it's trashed!”
Anna Jackson (sher/her) is a York (UK) based poet and short fiction writer with a passion for the weird, the eerie and the horrific. Anna was most recently published on the science fiction website '365 Tomorrows', with her piece 'Into the Blue.' twitter handle is Anna_Jax2704