Crimson Night by R. Michael

Crimson Night by R. Michael

Samantha knelt before the fire and wept. Behind her, moonlight filtered through the only window in the quaint hovel, illuminating the crimson-soaked floor. If it wasn’t for the horrific scene she came home to, Samantha would’ve enjoyed basking in the lunar beauty.

After collecting herself, she walked over to the corpse of her husband and gently stroked his cheek, then moved to the back of the house and gathered a trio of blankets, draping them over the mangled bodies of her husband and two sons.

She didn’t know how long they lay dead. They appeared to be deceased for several days, but she’d seen them alive mere hours before. As the tears dripped onto the blankets that now concealed her loved ones, Samantha felt a tinge of guilt. Death had been the norm over the last couple weeks. Three other families were wiped out in that span, all after children reporting sightings of strangers walking amongst the trees around the village.

“So many gone, and it took me losing my kin to believe the tales.” Samantha buried her face in her hands and sobbed harder. Suddenly the air grew cold, and her ear caught the faint, distant laugh of a deep, maniacal voice. Samantha leapt to her feet, feeling her throat tighten. The widow’s trembling hands dabbed her eyes with her dress sleeve.

The moon darkened without warning, and the hearth fire blew out. The woman jumped and unleashed a muted scream. Without a second thought she thumbed the latch, flung open the door, and fled for the road. The moon’s rays soon returned, but a chill hung in the air, penetrating her spirit. Samantha’s eyes caught movement flittering through the woodland. Her heart thudded, and she waited, trying to discern the source.

Despite the slight tremble in her legs, Samantha stepped closer to the imposing army of oaks and maples, determined to get a better understanding. A part of her had already figured out the culprit, but she didn’t want to accept it.

Finally, roughly twenty feet away, Samantha found the confirmation she sought: a female silhouette in a long gown with her hair tied up. She felt her chest tighten when the stranger turned to face her, for what looked back wasn’t human. Two orange-red eyes set in a smoky-black form watched Samantha momentarily before the entity vanished.

A heartbeat later, Samantha caught sight of something running through the forest, several more shadows trailing behind. She froze. One of the beings paused, flashed its amber eyes at her, then lifted a hand, unveiling dark, talon-like nails as if to taunt her. When the specter merged back into the shadows, a prolonged blood-curdling scream emanated from the village.

Without a second thought, Samantha pivoted back to the settlement. The scream had come from her home and sounded exactly like her son. Though she knew it was impossible, she couldn’t contain the abrupt influx of hope that welled within. She burst through the door, and all optimism was eviscerated. The tiny bodies of her children were still lying under the blankets. Samantha fell to her knees, and tears flowed from her reddened eyes once more.

“Samantha? Oh, dear lord, what’s happening around here?” Her elderly neighbor, Tom, said from the doorway.

“I-I,” she began but then sobbed too hard to finish.

“I heard the scream. What evil is responsible for this? What’s been plaguing us?”

“Shadows,” Samantha wheezed.

“You’ve seen them too. What are-” Tom gurgled and gripped his throat. A moment later he fell dead on the front step. Behind him stood a leering, shadowy, female entity. Samantha shrieked and scurried back to the corner of her hovel. The specter closed in, walking slowly as if she savored every moment of Samantha’s terror. Without warning she vanished, leaving Samantha trembling and bewildered.

She could hear indecipherable whispers blended with the occasional maniacal laugh. Samantha’s skin puckered to gooseflesh. Eventually, the din ceased, making way for an unsettling quiet. Shakily she got to her feet, just as the first rays of light gleamed in the east. Samantha waited and listened. After several moments, she gingerly set foot outside.

The heaviness in the air subsided. Keeping an eye on the trees encompassing her village, she decided to check on the rest of the town. It wasn’t long before the widow heard another crying a few houses away. She brushed her long, brown hair out of her eyes and knocked on the door. A large, ruddy-faced woman with matted hair answered. Samantha saw the woman’s family lying motionless and bloody on the floor.

“They came for mine too, Mary. I’m so sorry.” Samantha threw her arms around her quivering friend. “Let’s find any remaining survivors, bury our loved ones, and leave this forsaken place.”

Mary wiped her face and nodded. “They killed mostly men and boys. What are they? Where did they come from?”

“I don’t know. There were whispers for weeks that demons stalked the nearby woods. People went missing, but I never imagined this would happen, especially all at once like this.”

The ladies scoured the village but found only two more widows: Joanne and Victoria.

“I saw some women flee into the woods,” Victoria commented.

Samantha sighed, looking forlornly at the home they were about to abandon. “We should bury the dead before leaving. It’s not right to leave our families like that.”

“We don’t have time. Those things will return, and we can’t be here when they do. It’s awful, but we need to go and never look back,” Mary said.

“That’s sacrilege!” Samantha gasped.

“Nevertheless, she’s right, and I think you know that.” Victoria rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“None of us wants this. Our kinfolk, our village deserved better,” Joanne said somberly.

Samantha sighed. “You’re right.” She then glanced back at the hovel she called home for nearly six years, and without another word followed the other three women along the road, leaving behind the bodies of her loved ones. Though the sense of dread diminished, Samantha could still feel an invisible gaze bearing down on her. “How do we know those things won’t follow us?” She asked, and the other three exchanged horrified expressions.

“We don’t,” Mary whispered.

—

R. Michael lives in rural Minnesota and is happily married.  He has one son and a border collie foot warmer.  He has four books published on Amazon and has works published in “365 Tomorrows,” “Altered Reality Magazine,” and “Ink & Fairydust Magazine.”