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House Call

·250 words·2 mins
Flash Fiction Deadlines For Writers

The coach bounced hard over the rough terrain as dusk fell. The horizon looked like a crimson water color painting, reminding the Doctor of the exhibit he had recently attended with his good friend, Lord Hastings. Thinking of his friend’s urgent note, he rapped the top of the carriage with his cane. With a sharp crack of the reins, the horses accelerated.

Pulling up to the mansion at the center of the estate, the heavy wooden doors flew open. Lord Hastings emerged. His clothes were torn, exposing deep red gashes. His eyes were wide with hysterical fear. He waved his arms, yelling, “You’re too late! Leave! Get out!”

Throwing a heavy coin purse to the driver, he commanded, “Ride like the devil is at your back! Go! Now!”

Before the Doctor could protest, the driver whistled, and the horses broke into a hard gallop. Twisting, he saw Lord Hastings fall to his knees as a full moon crested over the hills.

When they neared the estate border the horses bucked. The carriage rocked with such violence that the Doctor was ejected to the ground. He saw a monstrous figure emerge from the trees. Standing upright, covered in thick fur, steam billowed from it’s wolflike head. The creature, arms outstretched, roared a piercing howl as the horses broke free, and fled.

Yellow eyes locked onto his. The Doctor, boots scratching at the ground, tried to back away. The creature lunged. Hot earthy breath enveloped his face as screams filled the woods.