Saturday, January 23, 2016

Demons - Part II

By Bettyann Moore

Rufus stood dead still, all his senses alert. He turned his head – and his headlamp – in a slow circle. He couldn't imagine Bud, superstitious, rabbit-scared Bud, taking off on his own. So, where'd he get to? The passenger side door was shut; Rufus hadn't heard it open or close.

“That don't mean nothin',” he said aloud, but not too loudly. “A guy can get pretty het up on somethin' and never hear or see hell-all.”

Rufus shut off the lamp and waited for his eyes to adjust. He listened hard. The quiet was absolute. Not a rustle of critters in the grass nor a whisper of cattails by the pond. The back of his neck prickled. He felt like he was being watched. With slightly shaking hands, Rufus turned on the headlamp and whipped his head around to shine the light behind him. Something, something inky black slithered just out of sight and back into the mist.

Friday, December 11, 2015

Demons - Part I

By Bettyann Moore
Image courtesy Wiki Commons

Rufus drove. Rufus always drove.

“How come you always get to drive?” Bud complained. He took the last swig of his beer and flung the bottle out the window where it smashed against a live oak. He hooted and reached between his feet to pull another out of the carton.

“That's why.”

“What? What's why?” Bud had already forgotten the question. He took a long pull from the long neck.

Rufus nodded at the bottle in his friend's meaty hand.

“You forget what Sheriff Dalton said last time?” Rufus asked.

Friday, October 16, 2015

The Roommates

Image by Fanghong via Wikimedia Commons
Author's Note: The first part of this story was previously published on the blog. You can find it here.

Back at the house, I managed to pass through the door on the third try.

"So was I killed here? In the house?" I asked Darius.

He flopped to the floor and stretched out. His tail thumped against the floor in a manner I took to mean he was thinking.

"Yes, I believe you were. I wasn't around at the time."

I stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to go on. He stared back at me.

"And?" I prompted.

"And what?" he said.

"And where were you?"

He sighed. "I was out doing business. It's not like I have any obligation to see what you were up to at all hours of the day, Roy.”

"What business was it you were doing?"

"My own." He gave his tail a mighty thump.

"Okay. But I was alive when you left?'

He sighed. "You had gone out. When I arrived later, you were transitioning into a Monad in the bathroom."

Friday, August 21, 2015

Tiny Mercies

By Bettyann Moore

Rare, progressive and untreatable.

Ardys White repeated the words over and over.

“Rare, progressive and untreatable,” she said, then gave a wry snort. “Reminds me of that old movie with the kid and the scarecrow. “Lions, tigers and … what was that other one?” she mused. “Right, lions, tigers and bears, oh my. Rare, progressive and untreatable, oh my!”

Talking to herself was just something Ardys did. There was no other human in the house, no cat, no dog, and there never would be.