Contest Entry

This is a huge contrast to something I would typically write, but it was October, and I thought it would be fun to enter a Halloween contest.



Quiet, collecting...
A breeze ran by the window this evening,
after the sunset showed its beauty

Glowing embers of the past sun lit
the perfect night for reading,
by the window during dusk...

...

It was a good night for reading. Becky sat on one of the living room armchairs, not reading, but watching the sunset out the window. It was a semi-early autumn evening, but the sun had already begun to set earlier, and even though today had been comfortable, the nights always had a chill.
While she had been reading a good-sized novel, bright yellow began streaming the pages, stealing her eyes away to the window. She loved the sunsets and the sky, and often took time to stare at them freely.
She'd had her fill of soft color and light this time, and pleasantly went back to her book. Rather she was going to, but the dogs suddenly made a fierce racket, their barks endless and loud. She got up to check if someone was pulling into the driveway, or their neighbors were working across the road. Neither seemed correct, however, and the only other thing that would set the dogs off like this was a foreign animal on their "turf". She liked animals (it was her dream to find a baby skunk, or a racoon, to raise...), and was keen to give the yard a quick look.
Stepping outside, past the barking dogs, one of which came whining to greet her, she could see most of the yard. It was a small acreage with a large barn completely surrounded by dead cars and worthless machanical parts, a few chicken houses, long grass that needed to be cut, short, young evergreens on the south and east sides of the yard, and a small house surrounded by a sea of fields, newly shaved and harvested of their corn. There was a town about five miles away, who's lights were starting to sparkle in the distance.
Becky immediately noticed a white, fluffy shape by the barn, by the back side entrance. It was obviously one of the hens, and she remembered she had found it there dead a few hours ago while doing some of the farm chores. It hadn't been there yesterday, but it was a pile of bones. A few leftover insides were wet and fresh, and the carcass still had plenty of feathers, but most of it was simply gone.
The number of hens being kept in the barn had been rapidly decreasing. They weren't a full-sized farm; a few laying hens, some noisy roosters, and some old hens (the latter two were kept in seperate chicken houses) were the only "farm" animals they owned, and only the young laying hens kept getting found like this.
The dogs had settled down, and after watching for a minute, Becky decided it was good enough for her, and went back inside.
After about half an hour of her book, her father, Steve, came downstairs half dressed from his room after awakening from his nap and asked about the dogs barking.
"Mmm..they made a big fuss earlier, but I think it was just some animal; maybe what's getting those chickens."
He lazily nodded and went into the dark kitchen, flipping the light on as he entered. Becky opened her book and settled into it again, until a small ferret head popped up over the arm of her chair. She smiled and grabbed up "Weiser"; one of her pet ferrets.
During a play through the living room, huge bellows started coming from the dogs again, and Steve looked outside into the darkness.
"Well, if it's out there, we'd just as well see if we can find it..."
He'd been thinking about setting up a trap or waiting for it outside, but he was someone who didn't get around to doing things right away. Sure enough, he came downstairs with a raggy pair of old jeans and a t-shirt on, one hand gripping his shotgun. It was so old it wouldn't do much to anything if he didn't aim right, but it was still a gun, nontheless. He put his boots on, and Becky slipped on her little shoes.
They walked out into the night; it was almost pitch black from lack of clarity of the sky. She held the long gun with two hands, handling it far away from the trigger, and followed behind her dad leading the way with a flashlight. Reaching the far end of the barn, passing the empty shell of the previous hen, he slowly swung open the bottom half of the door and flashed the light inside. The hens were all quietly roosted on the tops of the nests, above the ground and safe. There was some soft coos from a few of them, after being slightly disturbed by Steve's poking around, and perhaps because of the dogs' baying when they got too near their pen. He shone the light into the rows of nests, and put an egg into his shirt pocket. He finally backed out of the door, and as Becky made room for him, her foot slid on an old pipe on the ground and she had to regain her balance by holding onto the door. She picked it up and turned to throw it into the pile of other junk that surrounded the barn, and stopped. From the vague light coming from the flashlight pointing in the other direction, Becky saw the remains of a ripped apart hen lying on the ground. She motioned her dad to shine the light over it, and they saw not much more then bare ribs, chicken feet, and a bit of carcass with its plumage scattered everywhere. No blood, no head.
"...You have no idea what's getting them?", Becky asked, though she'd tried to prompt something out of him before. He was a rather quiet man.
"Well, it could be a racoon, or a possum."
That didn't help much, seeing as a single racoon didn't have the need to eat more then one entire chicken a day.
"I don't remember any of the hens being outside, and this is the second one out here."
Her dad shrugged, saying, "They probably found a hole then..." Becky rolled her eyes.
Steve headed to the front of the barn, stepping around all of the metal junk and automobile parts in his way. Her original idea was to follow him, but got sidetracked wondering what the sky was doing, hoping it would clear up and the moon would come out. It was almost full for this month, but the only light offered by the sky was a fading rim around the horizon.
Becky decided her father might need her, though he had taken the gun after she slipped earlier, and carefully wound her way around to the front of the barn.
"Dad?", she called into the doorway, stepping inside. There was no shining flashlight or figure blocking the narrow passage through the rubbish that filled the barn. The cats were all asleep, and one or two stirred as she passed by.
Figuring he must've headed up to the house, even though it seemed like a short time between her coming from the back of the shed to the front, she turned to exit when she saw a tall shadow at the door. There he is, Becky thought. But before she could react, it moved sickly abrupt and as a mere flicker.
Not even thoughts were in her mind as she stood there, senses suddenly livened with anxiety.
Becky was one for being skeptical about alarms until she really saw that there was a problem, but there was no mistaking the grotesque motion of whatever just moved past the door. What was it?

She briefly reasoned out that it probably hadn't seen her, being as dark as the barn was, and it had been outside. But still, had it paused because it was looking inside?
She waited, heart pulsating harshly, trying to listen and wishing she could see everywhere at once.
After a few minutes of nothing, Becky thought of her dad, and that she needed to find him. She stopped being as scared now that she was beginning to question what she saw, or may have seen.
Taking soft, careful steps, she walked towards the door of the barn. Even though she vowed to calm down and not be such a sissy, her back still felt exposed, but she was too nervous to look behind her. Becky waited for a few seconds, then stuck her head out, leaning against the frame. It had grown darker in the last few minutes, but there was enough light left to see the chicken house to the left was silent, and while turning her head to the right, she paused at the sight of something lying on its side in front of her front door. It looked like one of the dogs was taking a nap, and they had quited down, but the lights were off in the house. Had dad gone in and shut them off for some reason?
Turning her head towards the garage, an alarming movement lasting a split second made her hide her head back inside. If something was out there, should she go for the house? Where was dad?
Becky decided the reasonable thing to do would be going along the evergreens on the left of the house for cover, and see if she saw her dad along the way. She didn't know for certain anything was wrong yet, but just in case... She was still rather spooked.
Becky gingerly slid along the shadow of the barn, passing by a torn open man's body, void of flesh or a head.

Edging up along the garage, she nearly stepped on something. She couldn't be certain, and maybe didn't want to see what she saw, but looking as fervently as possible, she could just see the outline of a cat. It's face was frozen in a scream, and its entire bottom half was missing. Becky just stared, unable to move.
She slowly moved her head towards the house, numb with pre-comprehension. With unblinking eyes, she vaguely saw a hunched over figure ripping apart the dog lying by the door as it ate it furiously.
All Becky was able to do was walk ethereally to the line of tall evergreens against the house, and climb up the first one she found.
As her senses regained, every shadow, every noise, everything scared her... She longed for silence, and quiet and calm, and to be certain of everything and where it was and what it could see. She saw nothing in the dark, and it scared her, and it was worse then seeing something...

Thoughts flew through her head; nearly all of them in question format; how many of these things are there? Oh my God... What were they? Did they make any noise? Where are they?
Trying to make a plan, she thought of just staking it out and waiting for them to leave. She lived out in the country, in the midst of corn fields that had just been harvested... She could have run away in the corn if she'd got by unnoticed. But it seemed like she was forgetting something...
Then a single thought smacked into her head: Weiser!!


***
A figure walked straight past the couch, its patterned yet rikety shuffling motion occasionally banging against furniture, not seeming to notice anything except what it saw or sensed. One of it's long leg joints struck an end table, from which fell some books, and a cup that rolled over to the couch.
A ferret head popped out from under the couch, looking into the direction the object had come from. Weiser glanced up at the figure, then moved towards it to get a closer look at this strange, new creature. The figure turned and its eyes livened at the appearance of the small animal, though it remained utterly calm besides that. It arched it's back and spread its legs on all fours, ready to dash, and
WHAM
Becky's foot came smashing into its face. Or presumably its face, because she could hardly see what she was doing. Its head, anyway. It growled, turning away, but it obviously wasn't hurt much, though she'd kicked as hard as she could on short notice and pumping adrenaline, making it stumble over onto its side.
Not daring to stop or think, she grabbed her ferret, found her footing, and high tailed it. She saw how fast they could run, and it would have no problem catching her.

She didn't know where to go.

She slammed into the bathroom, which she figured was a really stupid move, but blindly saw the window, heard rapid movement in the next room, and launched herself through the glass without another thought, clutching Weiser and protecting her as best she could in her arms. The wind was knocked out of her as she hit the ground, but she was outside, and she dragged herself up as quickly as she could, ran around to the other side of the house, and smashed into the bushes. Becky held her breath to stop it from heaving out of her lungs and give herself away, and scruffed Weiser so the weasel would stay quiet. She tried her best to stay hidden, absolutely out of any light, and very, very still.
Had it seen her? How smart was it? Did it know where she was? Could it hear her thumping heart pounding? Was it waiting for her to move? Where was it..??
It was a long time before Becky moved in the slightest.

***
She was waiting, watching the window. She'd been watching her house from the trees across the driveway ever since she'd gotten up the courage to move; not long ago, her pulse reminded her. Something still could have seen her, somehow, in this darkness. She was ever thankful that there was so many clouds to blot out the moon and stars, for the most part, tonight. She would only wait until she saw something, anything, leave the house before she snuck back inside. The only thought driving her was her babies. Bonky and 3 were still inside. She hadn't been waiting long, and they were always sleeping in her room, always, but if they moved...If they made any noise, they'd be gone. The thought of them in there with that monster almost drove her to run inside right then and there, but if she made one dreadfully wrong move, they were all dead. Running into the bathroom right in front of that thing had probably almost cost her her life, and Weiser's, but she couldn't know for certain. She was hoping to see something, or hear something leave. What if it had? Something could be five feet from her right now, but with how they moved if they didn't know where they were going, she trusted herself to hear. It was all she could do. If something didn't happen soon, she'd have to go in after them.
She was shivering from the cold night and of her predicament. Her own breathing scared her, and Weiser kept fussing. She was begining to feel cold, but being the youngest and most bright and curious, wouldn't have being inside Becky's shirt. Her only hope was to have her scruffed and hold her against her.

Finally, she'd had enough, and decided to climb up to her bedroom window. All that was blocking it was a screen that wasn't attatched to anything because it had been warm that day and she hadn't been up to her room to close it.
Hoping she didn't make much, if any, noise, she attempted to grab hold of a large tree sapling and climb all the way up to the top with one hand holding Weiser.

Becky stood up on the roof beside her bedroom window, and waited. She didn't hear anything inside, and poked her around as slightly as possible, noting that the door was still shut, and it was very dark inside. She got a better view and saw that everything looked as she would have left it. She muttered a prayer of thanks and gently tried to remove the screen. She dropped Weiser through the open window onto her bed below, and climbed through herself. Weiser ran off, maybe looking for somewhere to rest, but Becky headed for her dresser, keeping low and silent. She changed into warmer, darker clothes, and grabbed an athletic bag to stuff the ferrets in. They may be cramped, but what with the funny positions they always curled up in together, they should be fine. She also snatched up their harnesses, a watch, her pocket knife, any money she had, and filled a pocket of the bag with ferret food. She hadn't meant to waste any time, but then this would be her only chance.
Bonky was inside their "ferret house", under a blanket with No. 3. Weiser had joined the group. She smiled and wished they could be so content always, and had laid her hands on them when she heard rapid thumping below her. She cursed in her mind as she grabbed the bundle of ferrets and blanket and jumped out the window. She was hardly holding on to Bonky as they were out on the roof, and something had just smashed into her father's room. She snatched Bonky back, jammed the ferrets into the bag, and fell onto the sapling. She could still hear the ruckus inside as she hid in the shadow of the house and ran into the trees in front of it.
She didn't know what had set it off, but it probably knew she was there. That only added to her anxiety, but she needed to get out of here somehow.
She was now on the far side of her home's territory, and was able to see into the neighbor's property where they kept their pigs and silo.
She was utterly taken back. All of the pigs where squealing if they weren't dead, almost all of them being torn apart by maybe a dozen of the 'creatures' that were terrorizing Becky. They were making a bloodshed of the place, and she saw their pale, frail-looking bodies everywhere, even in such little light; jumping, and tearing and running in that harrowing fasion.
It made her sick to watch it, but even before she knew it, behind her the one that heard her hurled out the window and swerved around the house.
She could get to the ditch along side the road, and crept up to it. Becky moved as quietly as she could ever muster, her ferrets fussing in the bag, and prayed again tonight that the long grass rustling wouldn't give her away, and that perhaps nothing horrible had happened to her father.
Feeling she was in the clear, she got out her knife, locked it open, and began to run.