The Moors

A dark short story about a couple on the moors

The Moors

By

Andrew Payn

The lone car drove up the dark road stretching over the vast moor, a couple young and in love driving from their wedding, smiling at each other reminiscing of the new memories engraved into their young and foolish mind.

The car, a quite old ford fiesta spluttered to a halt the couple looked at each other, slight looks of worry stretched across their faces, but almost immediately afterwards the look of worry became one of laughter. The newly wed groom stepped out the car and stated
"I'll just go look for help, there must be a farm somewhere near here"

The bride sat alone in the car, minutes soon started to lose their influence on her and she started to drift off, she was soon awoken by the 'tap' 'tap' 'tap' on the roof, thinking it was probably some stones blowing around in the breeze, or even some twigs dropping from the tree above. She consolidated herself in the thought that it was nothing more than nature.

As soon as sleeps grasp had gotten hold of her she was again awoken by the tapping, 'tap' 'tap' 'tap on the roof. This time it felt more ferocious and angry 'tap' 'tap' 'tap'. It sounded again and again, starting to lose confidence in the thought it was mere twigs and stones she stepped out the car, she looked out, it was dark and foggy and she could barely see a few yards ahead. She turned around slowly to look at the great oak towering above her, making her feel as small as a needle in a haystack.

As her eyes moved from the very highest point on the tree, a cool breeze whispered on her neck, she shivered, her spine tingled. Her gaze continued to fall, until she found the source of the tapping, again it sounded 'tap' 'tap' 'tap'. She fell back at the sight of her newlywed husbands head plunged onto a branch, the tapping was blood dripping from his neck down onto the roof of the car.

She panicked and started to run, as far away from the car as possible, tears streaked down her face, dripping onto the floor. She saw a light in the distance, it was moving around, like a torch looking for something, or someone. She ran closer to it, as a figure started to appear behind the light a breeze whispered against her neck. But for some reason this one was different she stopped as the torch shone on her, a mans voice called out
"who goes there?"

Just as the voice began to surface from her throat, a long spiny finger like thing slid down her back, she could feel something dripping, but she could not feel any rain falling. She looked around she could not see anyone, but as she looked her body started to become cold, she could see her white dress floating in the wind, as she started to fall she could see the red stains on the trail of the dress, floating in the whispering breeze, her last thought was of the engraved memories of the wedding, of her husband, her friends and family, of the future children.

It was here when her body hit the ground with an almighty thud and her life floated away in the freeing breeze, it whispered through the hills and valleys. Freedom's hold of the trapped soul.

Andrew Payn
03/04/2012

Author's Note

Enjoy