City Boy

It's just my luck that I lay here, dangling from my window as the semi that nearly fucking killed me speeds off on the dirt road going in the opposite direction. I mean, if it wasn't for that growl scaring the living shit out of me as I changed my tire, causing me to jump into my car in terror, I would've been road kill. But, why was a semi on a narrow dirt road anyways? Who authorized such fuckery? The guy didn't even feel it necessary to stop and check if he had turned me into ground beef. What a dick.

Quickly, I notice that my arm is broken, but I don't feel any pain because of the shock surging through my body. Looking down at the bone protruding out of my skin, I begin dry heaving, my body trembling in revulsion of the blood dripping from the break. Though I had a cellphone in my right pocket, when I dialed 911, the call couldn't connect due to a lack of reception. How convenient.

Being in a forested area, in the middle of nowhere, gave me the creeps. I'm what some call a city boy, so the sound of branches breaking nearby and the creepy buzzing in the trees, makes me a bit uneasy. Twitchy, even. But, in the distance, I can make out smoke in the darkening sky. Being that I have no reception, it became clear that I had to hike through the brush to get to the house. Unfortunately for me, I wore my brand new, very expensive new shoes. How sweet.

The journey to the house was eerie. Every tree I passed seemed to turn, watching my every move as I stepped away from it, relinquishing each tree into the darkness once more. From my peripheral, I see countless shadows that seem to glide through the brush with ease, causing my bones to quiver in terror as I imagine the terrifying creature expelling each shadow. A mile away, I see the house slowly become more and more detailed as I fight the urge to sprint the rest of the journey there. This forest gives me the creeps, but I can't risk running after losing as much blood as I have. So I take my time, ignoring the pain beginning to swell in my arm as I approach the house.

Once I make it out of the forest, I realize how much more pleasant the forest is compared to the old, creepy house. The wood of the house is chipped, decaying slowly as the termites eat away at it. The windows... Oh, they are god-awful. Each resembled that of the windows inhabiting smelly, cheap boats... But, the weirdest thing about the house is the door. It looked like something off of one of those hillbilly, cannibal movies. Dead centered in the middle, seems to be an old, tortured face with it's mouth wide open...

"You looking for something?" A voice questions from behind me.

I pivot quickly, nearly twisting my ankle.

"You scared the shit out of me," I say, looking at the young woman standing before me as I rest my trembling hand on my chest.

"Well, you are on my property, so I expect an explanation before I go into my little ol' house there and get my shotgun," she says, smiling.

Quickly, I begin backing away.

"Well, I see you aren't the friendly type so I'll just go back to my car," I say, holding my tarnished arm with the other.

The woman's eyes look over my arm before she holds her hand up, stopping me in my tracks.

"That arm looks pretty bad. I'm sorry if I was a bit... rude, but lately I've been having a lot of visitors and it's hard weeding out the good from the bad. Because you're hurt, you can come inside. I'll clean that up for you and make a sling," she says, walking towards me.

"Can you call an ambulance or something? I mean, some water splashed over this isn't exactly the help I need. I've already lost too much blood," I say, following her lead as she guides me into the house.

"I'll make a call, alright? Don't worry," she says, walking me into her small house before lowering me down onto a repulsive couch covered in dust and grime.

I peer around her tasteless home as she hurries off into the kitchen.

"I bet she has deer heads mounted on the walls somewhere," I think to myself, searching the room, carefully.

Quickly, I spot not only a deer head but a bear head mounted over a small, spooky fireplace. I laugh, softly.

"Is something funny?" She questions, lowering a bowl onto the dust covered coffee table.

"No, I'm just taking in the decor," I say, staring as she dips a raggedy towel into the hot water.

"I can tell you're a city boy, so I wouldn't expect you to know about country living," she says, smirking.

Though she is a little rough around the edges and lives in a house not even a horror movie director could embody, I can't help but notice how attractive she is.

"City boys know other things," I say, mischievously.

She giggles, wringing out the steam emitting towel without so much as a girlish squeal.

"I'm not interested in a thing a city boy has... Especially not one that stumbles outside of my house in the dead of night," she says, beginning to clean the area around my protruding bone.

I wince in pain, clenching my jaw tightly as she cleans closer to the bone.

"Sorry about that. I just got hit by some asshole on the dirt road a few miles away from your house. Luckily, I saw the smoke coming from your fireplace. Otherwise, I would've..." I trail off.

The girl pauses, looking me in the eyes with her beautiful, brown ones.

"It's fine," she says, nodding her head in a reassuring manner.

I smile, guilt flowing through me as I reflect on how much of a dick to her I have been subconsciously.

"Thank you for this. I mean, you could've let me die out there."

She cleans the bloodied towel before wringing it out once more.

"Death is a beautiful thing. Unfortunately, no one gets to choose when it happens," she says, staring into my eyes before dabbing the hot clothe on the open wound.

Though her response was hair-raising, I shook it off once the pain began to radiate in my arm once more.

"I think that's clean enough," I say, flinching as she began to apply excessive pressure to the bone.

"I have to set your arm, alright. Just sit back," she says, grabbing my arm with both hands.

Before I can object, excruciating pain travels throughout my body, causing me to release a deafening scream.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I yell at her as I clench my arm.

I can almost feel my heart beat through it as it pulsates.

"Relax, Jordan. I simply want to make sure you have all of your parts in the right place before you leave," she says with a darkened tone.

Quickly, I look up at her but... her face caught me off guard. The once youthful appearance of her skin had vanished. In its place is revolting, wrinkling skin. So wrinkled, her facial features are no longer visible.

"Don't be afraid, Jordan. I am simply here to speak to you before you go on your journey," she says, staring at me with eyes overlapped by sagging skin.

"Journey?" I question, stuttering as I tremble at her appearance.

"Yes, you didn't make it out of that crash. I was there when it happened, though you may not remember my growl. See, unfortunately for you, city boy, you stumbled across a road exclusively for the night's rig. He's on a bit of a crunch as I told you before we have had many visitors recently... so many lost souls knocking on the door in the dead of night, unknowing of their tragic deaths," she said, stoically.

I stand from the disgusting couch, backing away from the grotesque woman as I shake my head in denial.

"You're fucking nuts, lady," I say, heading for the door.

She stands, her stare burning into my eyes.

"The rig is waiting for you," she says,  a smile conquering her withering face.

Once those final words escaped her lips, as I stood in front of the open door, overpowering lights flashed before me as an ear shattering horn sounded.

It was the rig... waiting for me... just as the old woman had said.

*Written by GreyOwl

Content is available under CC BY-SA*