Two teenagers rush into the cabin
Bathing suits soaked
Fresh wounds too big for the bandages from the nurses office
They stop
A body is propped up on a chair
Lamp shade over her head.
The boy lifts it up, and finds a light bulb glowing in the pulp
The girl screams and rushes to the creek to tell the kids to come inside
She gasps
It's quiet
Only a beach ball splattered in dark spots floats where they had played
The boy takes the phone
Dials 8 numbers on a rotary dial
Each number had to slide around the dial
He's careful not to press the wrong one
He reaches operator. She says hold on while they connect him to the police.
When the police finally get on the phone, it takes them 30 min to an hour to reach a place that is rural and remote
In that 30 minutes
The girl rushed back inside.
Both teenagers are smart but unprepared
A shadow crosses the window.
HE was watching the whole time
They lock the doors.
The handles shake.
They barricade the door and windows with furniture
Then they hear stomping on the roof.
The boy can't believe it. He saw HIM on fire. He unloaded two shells into his chest
Could the words of that wierd old man be true?
The body of dead woman arises.
The light in her head glows.
The stomping stops.
The dead woman stumbles nearer.
The girl unplugs the chord
The body falls to the ground
The killer drops into the attic.
They hear him scratching at the ceiling.
The attic door falls
He drops
But is more worried about the dead light bulb woman.
He drops his weapon and tries to plug her back in
Just as blue and red lights scan the road and trees
The teenagers run out
The police man is battered, bleeding, blinded except for one clear spot in his field of
vision
They escape
But the bodies of the dead are never recovered
The killer is never caught
No matter how often the swamp and creek is checked
And the survivors grow old
Isolated
As men who survive a shipwreck
They pretend it didn't happen
Times goes on, the world forgets
Mass shooters gain more notoriety than serial killers
And then the fears that befall them are shadowed
By something frightening everyday.
The world today isn't post horror
It's post survivor.
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