The Writers Voice
Favourite Literary Website
David J. Collins
Be quiet! Listen! It appears that they have left. The darkness seems to have
life. I am so afraid that my heart is racing. It feels as though it is lodged in
my throat. I can actually hear the pounding of my heart beat and feel the
thumping of my pulse at my carotid artery. My breathing is so rapid that I am
about to hyperventilate.
I have to get control of my nerves, but how does one do that when he or she is
confronted by the unexplainable. Maybe this letter that I am writing will find
its way into someone's possession. Maybe, just maybe the one(s) who find this
letter will be able to stop these creatures.
It all started when my friends and I decided to go deer hunting in the Ozark
Mountains of Arkansas. John, Sam and I (my name is David) decided to join
fourteen other individuals at a mountain resort exclusively for deer hunters.
Don't let the number seventeen become cause for a raised eyebrow. Each of us
were elite hunters in our own right. All seventeen of us were the best of the
best, or at least we thought so until that fateful night of November third. I
seemed to have been the only one that was apprehensive, because of the fog, that
had moved in a little earlier. However, I was out voted by the others, and I
believed in the democratic process. There I was with John and Sam trodding
through the marsh and woods in a north-easternly direction. That is the
direction we had all decided to travel in. But, somehow the fog distorted our
compasses along with the stars in the sky that night. That's when we found
ourselves in this swamp after moving in what we thought was a north-easternly
direction, and in this swamp we have been ever since.
It is now November fifth and our party of seventeen is down to a party of three.
There's only John, Sam and myself. Provided, that is John that I am looking at
in the distance some 80 feet away from me. Sam is here beside me.
It was two nights ago that our horror began. That was when we found ourselves
elbow deep in this swamp. One of our other members attempted to leave the swamp,
when we all heard this tearing and ripping sound accompanied by a deafening cry
of pain, that was ended almost as soon as it began. Our swamp water quickly
turned crimson, and everyone gasped as nine or ten feet of intestines floated
by. Several members complained that they were bitten by snakes and made frantic
attempts to leave the water, but again there were strange sounds. This time
there was the sound of snapping and breaking, along with the tearing and
ripping. Floating in the water with us are limbs- arms, legs, feet, hands and
even upper torsos.
Visibility is minimal to say the least and whatever these things; they are
barely outlines in this fog, which is becoming denser. These creatures appear to
possess teeth similar to our sharks, but they walk on land and seem to avoid the
I have called out to John and so has Sam. Although he has not answered us he
does appear to be slowly moving our way. In a few hours it will be November
sixth and the water is tepid with a very foul odor. The flies are becoming
particularly bothersome. Sam has been complaining about his back having a
burning sensation. I will raise his shirt and take a look. My God! Sam has about
a half dozen leeches attached to his back. His chest and legs are also covered
with them. After a self-examination I too am infested with the parasites.
John has swam within reach of Sam and myself. I will pull him to us. Oh my Lord!
He has no head. It's as though something with tremendous claw power swiped his
head off at the shoulders. Wait a minute. Something has just occurred to me. In
this swamp is all kinds of bloody mangled body parts, but there are no heads.
Everyone's head seems to be missing. There must be some significance for this.
My poor friend John. His body has some extremely deep gashes, as though made by
claws. Some of these gashes appear to be almost an inch in depth. These
creatures must have claws similar to Grizzly Bears, but even longer. It's going
to be light soon. Time to make our move.
Well, if anyone found my letter and you're reading it this is where I began
writing. Sam and I did make a move. We made it to where the swamp ended and dry
land began. Just as we attempted to get out of the swamp one of the creatures
came seemingly out of no where and clawed half of Sam's face away. Sam has been
unconscious ever since. He barely has any vital signs. He has lost alot of blood
and his pulse is very weak. Also, the leeches sucking his blood is only
worsening his condition.
I have one final point to make that I will not share with Sam should he regain
consciousness. Last night under the cover of darkness I moved to the edge of the
swamp. While there I heard a slurping sound along with the sound of chewing. I
maneuvered to where the sound was coming from and observed one of these
creatures eating the tongue from one of the deceased's skull. I also watched as
this creature took one of his claws and plucked the eyeballs from the skull and
proceeded to consume them. Evidently, these are delicasies to these creatures.
What a perfect shot I had, if only my rifle was operable. Lastly, it is now
evident that these creatures are on a hunting expedition. Yes, in talionic
fashion, they are the hunters and we are the prey.
Critique this work
Click on the book to leave a comment about this work