Nightmare Fuel: The Ultimate Collection of Short Horror Tales by Wesley Thomas

same time the wind came like a freight train. It whipped the nightgown up and sent freezing slashes of cold air onto her little legs. Greta couldn't decide which was worse. Then with the addition of some supernatural monster that resembled a scarecrow chasing her, it was a miracle she was still conscious. But brave and determined, Greta ran. Crops thrashing her face, sharp objects spiking her feet, and the temperature dropping fast the further she moved into the field. Soon light from the house no longer acted as a mentor in the journey. Darkness came like an unsuspecting killer. The creature continued running with alarming speed, panting like a dog. Greta could hear this, and thus continued on, light or no light, pain or no pain. The tractor framed in police tape came into focus. The little light that was out there bounced off the metal carcass, dripping in blood. But Greta noticed the scarecrow had in fact moved. And there was now three of them! From the safety and warmth of the house, it was just speculation. Now up front and personal, it was a confirmed belief. The demon still unrelenting made Greta push past the scene of a young boy's untimely, premature and questionable demise, and further into the dangerous abyss.
     
    Greta's chest burned as her legs began to ache. She wasn't sure how much longer she could go, energy was dwindling rapidly. Then something distracted her. A smell. A fungal, bloody odour becoming more intense with every second. As the three wooden posts became more clear, so did the stench. They worked hand in hand. Until intelligence hit. Greta concluded that whatever hung from the posts must be causing the smell. Under normal circumstances Greta would flee the reeking vileness. But being pursed by an evil entity shook any rationality and common sense that still remained. Until there was nothing left but self-preservation and gut instinct. As Greta continued to run she spun out of control and went flying through the crops and out into an open space in the middle of the field. The foul smell was like a blow to Greta's stomach as she landed in slop. A sludgy, slimy pool mixed with dirt. Panting and panicking she quickly scurried and was about to continue fleeing when she looked up. The middle post was bare, an empty cross of moist wood. But at the base was the corpse of a man. Greta uncontrollably screamed into the night. Blood soiled this man, who wore a part of a police uniform. It was a sight that would haunt the young girl for eternity. Greta's body at a loss of how to react, fell backwards. Yet again the goo made contact with her nightgown, drenching it. That was all she could think about until she noticed that the other two posts weren't empty. Bodies were hammered to them. Naked bodies missing arms and legs. Bloody torsos with little heads. The faces distorted in terror. Guts and intestines swung from the massacred corpses, oozing blood, adding to the ever-expanding puddle of fluid. But regardless of their condition, Greta instantly knew the faces. The two cruelly slaughtered bodies belonged to Heisel and Gertrude. Greta shrieked, sopping whilst doing so. Tears dampened her face as she wailed into trembling hands. She couldn't bare to look at the bodies for a second longer. That was a sight that would no doubt haunt Greta for as long as she lived. But then Greta remembered she was out here for a reason. There was a strange, deadly predator in pursuit, not far away. Just then crunching could be heard behind, no doubt the demon. But surprisingly she could care less. A world without parents was an existence she didn't favour, a life that would not be worth living. Organs still fell from the torsos as she grieved their merciless passing, mourning the loss of two innocent human beings who she adored very much. But anger was also present. A deep fury at this monster who had just come along and murdered, very insanely, a bunch of people who had done nothing wrong. This emotion sustained her even when sharp