The Haunted Traveler December 2017 Edition

his shoulders. A bony hand clamped on his wrist. With a strangled scream, James swung
the weapon behind him. CRUNCH!
The emaciated hand slipped from his wrist, and the form tried to flee. If it escaped
now, it would be just as bad as losing sight of a monster spider in the house. Seizing
its raggedy shirt, he let loose a flurry of powerful strikes. Every muscle that had lain
dormant in his video game room animated. The creature’s screeching wails sent chills
skittering down James’ spine, but he refused to back down. Flinging the shadow into a
patch of moonlight, he moved to continue his attack, but froze with ax raised to swing;
his eyes widened in horror.
It was his grandpa’s scarecrow. A stitched mouth grimaced from ear to ear beneath
eyes as round as jetty bulbs. Strange reflections glowed in the depths as if therein lay the
flames of hell. Blood stained the deathly pallor of its skin, soaked its shredded clothes.
Though hacked to ribbons, the creature could still move. It crawled towards James,
snarling and whining in despairing tones.
Its eyes reminded him of a flaming match. He would burn this monstrosity up even
if he had to use the cabin as fuel. He raced inside. The creature clawed after him at
frightening speed. It slid in through the window before James could reach the mantle
where the matches lay and pounced.
James cried out in pain as he hit the stone fireplace, the ax beneath him. The creature’s
fingers dug into his flesh, ripping through the sweater and tearing at his hair. They rolled
across the hard floor. James managed to fling it from him. Its form clattered against
he didn’t know what. In the pitch blackness, his hand groped for anything and landed
on a wooden something. All he could see were the flaming eyes as they darted at him.
Swinging his new weapon at his assailant, the momentum jarred to a halt as it met the
body. The eyes momentarily vanished.
Not knowing how the blow had affected it, James scrambled for the black hole that
was the fireplace and felt around for the ax. Its sharp cold edge pressed against his flesh.
Desperate fingers skittered over the hard head and closed on the wooden handle. A chill
rose on his back, as if the cabin had fallen away from him. With a startled gasp, he arced
the weapon behind him. An awful wail pierced the air and the thing tumbled to the hard
wood. Its glowing eyes slithered in circles on the floor while a pounding noise sounded
in a different part of the cabin.
“What’s it doing, what’s it doing,” James squeaked. Somehow he remembered his
phone. Turning it on, he opened the flashlight app and shined it on the monstrosity. He
had cloven the scarecrow in two; its upper body scurried over the floor. The legs kicked
and twitched beside the broken chair that he had fallen off of earlier. James’ body
seemed to move on its own as he seized both pieces and thrust them into the fireplace.
Snatching up the matches, he lit one and threw it onto the flammable body, but
the fire didn’t catch like in the movies. James’ heart thumped in panic. What was he
supposed to do? Eyes darting from one corner to another, he hunted for…a vague
image of the gasoline keg rose to mind. The scarecrow struggled to escape the fireplace
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