A Scary Story

"Are pictures needed before you'll run the story?" I asked my editor.

"Maybe.  No Photo Shopped baloney though," he said.  "Remember Maureen, we're a real newspaper, not some supermarket check out scandal sheet."

At least he hadn't ruled the story out completely.  Not that getting pictures of the creatures in the woods would be easy.

Admittedly, not being sure what the critters were, my description was vague.  Ghosts, aliens, werewolves, a newly evolved species?  Could be anything.

"I'll get some shots tonight," I said.

I picked up a Nikon D700 from the loaner office, went out to the woods before it got dark, and positioned myself in an ancient oak tree.  I practiced shooting different angles from my lair, memorizing the location of the shooting button on the camera.

The prep almost came to naught.  I froze, ice water coursing through my veins, when the dark shapes came into view.  They were chanting.

"Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Double ,double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and cauldron bubble."

Witches, no doubt.  Quoting Shakespeare, but witches none-the-less.

I unfroze enough to shoot two pictures.  The Nikon was quiet, but not silent.  The shutter click gave me away.

"Well, well.  A spy in a tree," said the lead witch.  "Do you know what the traditional treatment of a spy is my dear?"

"I'm a reporter, not a spy," I said.

"Even worse," she sneered.  "Before leaving us, have some of our special tea."

My editor wasted no time checking with me the next day.

"Maureen, any pictures for your scary story?" he asked.

"No sir, no story either," I replied.  "By the way, I won't be able to work late anymore.  I've joined a new club and will be busy."