Deep Ash

Enjoy this short story by Mace Styx

“Guys, it’s open!” Robert inspected the door and called them. When they turned their heads, they saw him standing right next to the opened door of the dead tree. “I’m not getting inside that creepy thing,” said Marcela. “But we don’t have a choice. These crows are crazy. With that large number, we’ll be brutally torn to pieces if they attack us. Come on,” said Regan. He grabbed Marcela’s hand and walked back to the old tree. “Wait!” their guide Freddie suddenly yelled.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go in there. I don’t want to believe the stories, but have you heard about the Baba Yaga?” he asked. “Yes, we do. A witch that was responsible for the missing people who enter the woods and never returned, Right? That’s why we are here to begin with. But seriously, now is not the time to believe in such BS. It’s getting really dark and I don’t want to be the dinner of those crazy crows,” Robert responded. In the midst of their argument, the crows gradually began their attack. A few of the hovering ones sharply descended with their talons wide open and bills pointed forward. One of them came to Dylan and scraped him on the shoulder. The sharp claw tore right through his shirt and it left a deep cut. Dylan yelled in pain.

© 2022 Mace Styx (Hljóðbók): 9781667039701

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Hljóðbók: 11 juni 2022