Fantastic Tales of Terror

by Eugene Johnson

  Perching above, she was like a hawk with new eyes. Every jack-rabbit and squirrel were found. The deer would be out later.

  Annie waited. Each day, she hunted with exercised patience. During night hunts, her game multiplied. She provided enough food for her family that she took some extra meat to the grocer.

  ***

  “Does your ma know you’re here?”

  Annie pursed her lips and held up the trio of rabbits by the ankles. “Mr. Kratzenberger, would I be here if she didn’t?”

  He furrowed his thick black eyebrows.

  She held her breath as his deep chestnut eyes seemed intent on finding a lie, but she didn’t squirm or fidget.

  “How is it that you can bring in enough for all your little brothers and sisters, and still have meat to sell?” His features warmed.

  Annie shuffled her feet side-to-side. “Just a good shot.”

  “Uh-huh.” Mr. Kratzenberger rubbed his fingers over his long mustache. “In winter too?”

  She smiled at his joking tone. “I love winter.”

  “Even after your father . . . ” He coughed and blinked hard. “No matter. We can always take these off your hands.” He grabbed the rabbits by their feet, swinging their lifeless bodies as if they were rag dolls. “Provided that you have plenty at home.”

  Annie nodded. She waited for her payout before strolling home like she’d won a county fair shoot-out.

  “Where you been?” her step-father called after her when she pushed open the door.

  “Here’s where I been.” She walked toward the supper table and handed her mom the money she’d been paid.

  Her mother’s mouth hung open in a perfect oval. “Lord, Annie. Where on Earth did you come by that?”

  “Well,” Annie shooed her youngest sister away and made a face at her brothers. “I sold some kill to Mr. Kratzenberger.”

  “Child, in the middle of winter?”

  Annie scrunched up her face. “We have more than enough to get by.”

  “You don’t know how the weather’s gonna turn.” Her step-father bit off a hunk of bread from his plate.

  Her mother got up and grabbed a steel round for her, and put a cut of meat on it. “Here, you eat.” She set it down on the table and gestured for Annie to sit. Her eyes shimmered with maternal pride. “Thank you, my dear.”

  It was like old times. Annie’s resentment toward her mother all but vanished with the encouragement.

  She took to the trees more often. Longer. Day and night, she hunted. The money helped, and the praise aided, but the longer Annie found safety surrounding her solitude, the more she began to doubt herself. “Ain’t no way these woods are cleared.”

  She studied the trees, hoping to find some unnatural twisting limb. Her ears pricked, but nothing but slight murmurs sounded from the inhabitants of the forest. The dark stillness seemed empty. Too comfortable.

  “The monsters have left, but they’ll never be gone.” She hugged her gun to her. A shiver rippled through her body and the soft padding of a creature met her ears.

  Annie crouched in a fir this time. She allowed the needles to prick her forehead. Sap stuck to her boots, slowing the slightest movements.

  Ice beast. She squinted ahead, steadying her eyes. She slowly brought her rifle into position and licked her lips. Sick of the silence, she fired the second its shadow crested the moonlight paling the grass below.

  The dead thump of an elk rang in her ears. Annie screamed. She clutched her rifle in her right arm and turned to punch the tree trunk with the other. Another shout of frustration escaped her before she could control the anger, the disappointment.

  “I’m a hunter,” she reminded herself.

  Maybe the monsters ARE gone. A twinge of bitter emptiness filled her. She draped her gun over her shoulder and grasped the branch beneath her.

  Steadying her feet, she stepped down to continue lowering herself until she could jump to the ground with ease. Then this is all that’s left. She glared at the dead elk’s glazed eyes.

  ***

  Unable to fathom the amount, Annie gaped at Mr. Kratzenberger.

  “It’s all yours. Take it.” He held the money out to her.

  She grasped it with a sigh. It would be more than enough, but it still solidified her fate. I came back home for more than this. She imagined the last monster. There has to be more.

  “Thank you.” She turned to go. Her thoughts switched to the possibility of keeping every pence-traveling, finding another icy beast, and preventing its terrors.

  “Now wait now.” Mr. Kratzenberger stopped her. He adjusted his vest and held up a paper. “Ever heard of Mr. Butler?”

  She shook her head. Mr. Anyone never much amused her. No one could ever be like her father, and he’d died years before.

  “Frank E. Butler is the best shot this side of the Mississippi. Or so says the papers.”

  Annie’s neck itched. Her fingers twitched and she suddenly longed for her gun. “So they say.”

  Mr. Kratzenberger leaned forward and chuckled. “I know better.” He winked at her. “What if I told you I was acquainted with Frank and could set up a contest between the both of you?”

  Annie couldn’t fight the grin that spread across her entire face. “I’d be inclined to call you a liar. Or a fool. Maybe both.”

  “Annie, you know your eye.” He nodded at the money in her hand. “That there will take care of your ma, but you can do more for yourself.”

  She balled her fist tight around her earnings and stared at it. Looking back at his assuring gaze, she nodded. “If you can arrange this contest, there’s not much I can do but oblige.”

  “Atta girl!” He almost jumped with excitement.

  Annie rushed home, shaking her head. “Ain’t no way this’ll go off.” She set her sight on the faded little shack at the edge of town and went in like she did every day.

  Her brothers were running circles around her sisters hooting and hollering. “Boys, get yourselves outside before I go deaf,” her mother shouted from the stove.

  Annie bopped them on their heads and hugged her sisters. “There now, you’re saved. Come help us bake.” She led them toward the worn wooden table beside their mom, and helped knead some dough.

  Once it went into the oven, she rubbed her hands on her skirt and pulled the money out from her boot. “Annie, how many times do I hafta tell you not to store things in there?”

  Annie pushed back a laugh. She glanced up and placed the money on the table.

  Her mom froze.

  “It’s enough, ain’t it?” Annie studied her mother’s ashen face. The wrinkles around her eyes pulled straight.

  “Enough?”

  “To pay off the house, of course.”

  “Girls, go play.” Her mom nudged her sisters away. Then she fell into the chair closest to her. Fanning herself, she gasped.

  Annie knelt before her and clasped her mother’s hands in her own. “It should be enough.”

  Her mom squeezed her grip. Tears dripped from her eyes. “I never wanted to send you away. Before. You know.”

  Annie refused to respond.

  “You’d seen it. That thing. It took your father, but you were a child. No one listened. But after it took another, people talked. I know’d you’d seen it when it took my second husband. I’m not that blind. That thing took ‘em both from me. Almost took you. I had to send you away for a while. People didn’t wanna hear the truth. They were gonna hurt you if it didn’t.”

  Annie’s jaw quivered. She fought off tears, but her fingers shook. “I thought you didn’t believe me either. That I’d been a burden.”

  “No!” Her mother gripped Annie’s arms and pulled her into a tight hug. She stroked her hair. “But you’re back now. And you’ve done more for me than I ever could for you.” Annie gave in. She snuggled against her mom’s breast and sobbed. “That asylum, it was . . . cold. They didn’t care.”

  “And you’re never going back there.” Her mother kissed the top of
her head.

  ***

  Annie sighted her gun. The winds rushed in from the west and set her skirt flapping before the crowd.

  Her mom struggled to keep her brothers and sisters back. She nodded at Annie. Her features beamed with approval.

  Mr. Kratzenberger scratched his chest and tapped Annie on the shoulder.

  She turned to face him. “The mark’s too close.”

  She furrowed her brow and found a tall stranger beside him. Clenching her jaw, she tightened her grip on her gun.

  “Let me introduce you two. Annie, this is Frank E. Butler. The best shot this side of the Mississippi.” Mr. Kratzenberger’s lip curled at one end of his face.

  Mr. Butler tipped his hat at her.

  “And this is—”

  “Put her there.” Annie became too aware of her breathing and extended her hand before Mr. Kratzenberger could finish. She meant to shake like any rifleman, but Mr. Butler grasped her hand with a gentility that baffled her teenage mind. He raised it to his lips like some storybook hero and her entire face went hot.

  One of her brothers pointed and laughed.

  Her mom smacked his hand. Annie couldn’t escape the anger that flooded her throat. She grew rigid and repeated herself, “The mark’s too close.”

  Mr. Butler rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled. “She’s right, Mr. Kratzenberger. If this is to be a real contest, we need to shoot further and harder.”

  Mr. Kratzenberger sent Annie a look of puzzlement, but whistled to his brother at the end of the clearing. “Further back, and don’t make it too easy!”

  His brother, who was almost identical to the sturdy grocer, waved back and took the box of cans 20 paces out.

  “Far enough?” Mr. Butler eyed Annie with a curiosity she did not know if she appreciated. Something lay deep in his hazel eyes, a question, or an interest she’d witnessed between men and women but always distanced herself from.

  She looked ahead to avoid it. Tall grasses swayed over the flat land. Just outside of town, it was already speckled with a few patches of wildflowers. Winter was dying like the creatures Annie could no longer find.

  The townsfolk held back, curving around them. Annie felt puny and beaten already. How can I win against a name like Frank E. Butler?

  But he seemed more than a name. He smiled at her. “Ladies first.”

  “Thank you kindly.” She could have spit in his eye. She stepped aside and touched her rifle against her shoulder. Keeping a firm grip on it, she nodded at Mr. Kratzenberger who whistled for his brother to toss her first mark.

  He threw the rusted can overhead.

  Annie followed it up until it curved, and fired.

  Ding!

  Another can. Ding!

  And another.

  She pulled the trigger, forgetting everyone. The cheers were a dull hum. All she needed was the smoke and the echo of a hit.

  More. Ding! More. Ding!

  The cans went up faster, higher. Each time they fell, there was a new hole in the metal.

  Annie gave herself over to the rhythm, loading and firing as fast as she could.

  Twenty-five cans later and she had a perfect record. She looked at the clouds rolling across the sapphire sky, like boats sailing the ocean. The breeze reminded her of why she had come, and she turned to bow.

  It seemed the thing to do. Her mother had snuck her into a traveling show to watch a performance once, and they all bowed to the delight of the audience. Now, she straightened to the welcome applause of her family and neighbors. An overwhelming warmth ignited within her.

  She scanned the wide eyes and broad grins. Then Mr. Butler stepped up.

  He flashed her a charming sideways smirk. “You sure know how to put on a show.”

  She stared at her boots and clutched her rifle. “It’s my first.”

  He looked back to Mr. Kratzenberger and then moved closer. He lowered his tone, “You mean to tell me, you ain’t never competed?”

  “No, sir.” She stretched her neck up high and dared to meet his eyes.

  “Well I’ll be. You’re a natural.”

  She smiled at his praise, but the wind shifted, bringing with it a familiar scent. The stench of rotting flesh flooded her senses. A few people fanned their noses, others seemed oblivious.

  Mr. Butler focused on Mr. Kratzenberger’s brother. “Let ‘er rip!”

  Annie longed to watch. She found it difficult to avoid staring at Mr. Butler’s broad shoulders, and the hits. Despite the excitement, she stared at the surrounding trees beyond.

  Somewhere, it lurked.

  “You missed one.” Mr. Kratzenberger took off his hat and held it over his chest when the shots were done. “Annie, Annie you won!”

  “What?” She blinked at Mr. Kratzenberger.

  Mr. Butler kicked the ground. He ripped off his hat and stalked away.

  “I give you our winner.” Mr. Kratzenberger gestured to her and her mother ran forward bringing the flood of Annie’s younger siblings with.

  Annie lost sight of Mr. Butler getting swept away by the crowd that enclosed her. She accepted their kind words and thanked everyone. When the crowd finally dispersed, her mother insisted on serving supper in her honor.

  It wasn’t until hours later that Annie slipped out into the night, ready to hunt. A strange stillness settled around her as she grabbed her gun and stepped outside. The trees even seemed afraid to blow in the gales. Not one animal made a sound.

  She tip-toed onward. Placing her feet like a trained dancer, Annie knew this symphony, the sound of approaching death. Death never scared her, not the prospect of it—but prolonged suffering, that she could not bear. Her father had survived the attack long enough to shiver, vomit, and cry out for days.

  I will not let that happen again. She crept forth, relying on her olfactory prowess along with sharp hearing.

  A twig snapped behind her and she refused to jump. Holding steady, she kept her back to the beast. It can’t be this close already.

  She closed her eyes, but the scent of balm and pine threw her off. She steadied her hands, sliding her finger near the trigger of her gun held safely in her arms.

  Whirling about, she slammed the muzzle against Mr. Butler’s hand.

  “Oh!” She dropped her rifle.

  He laid a finger over his lips, picked up her gun, and handed it to her. He nodded for her to follow and she put a hand on her hip, unable to comprehend what he was doing.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he whispered. “But I’m tracking something big.”

  Bigger than a tall tale. She realized the danger he was in and searched his face. “I know where it is.”

  “You?” He gaped at her.

  “Come.” She sprinted on light toes.

  He kept up, hopping from tree to tree, mimicking her movements as she grew more careful to hide herself along the way.

  If I can just lead him back, she thought.

  But he stopped. “We’re heading toward the town?”

  She hugged her rifle to her and looked over her shoulder to study Mr. Butler’s face. His square jaw sat tight.

  “Annie.” He grasped her free hand. “You’re in danger.”

  She swallowed her laughter, but her smile took over. “Not me.” She shook her head and pushed her hair away from her shoulders.

  “This ain’t no game.” Even through the shadows, his frown stood out beneath his piercing gaze.

  “Don’t tell me. This is my town.” She became aware of the stars brightening the sky overhead. The clouds were dissipating. Light shone down to unveil them. A stench as thick as soup wrapped around the trees. Annie turned away from Mr. Butler and raced away breathing through her mouth. Pumping her legs beneath her thick skirt, she leapt over fallen logs and retraced old haunts.

  The night air stung her eyes until they watered. Through blurry vision, she tracked every elongated shadow. The twitching darkness moved incessantly.

  It’s near. Her heart matched the light padding be
hind her. She spun around and pursed her lips at Mr. Butler. “We’re being hunted.”

  “I know.” He tapped his rifle. “Where’d ya think I went after ya outshot me?”

  “The tavern?” She sniffed and grimaced, working hard not to cough. Meat and decay met her so strong she wished Mr. Butler would disappear so she didn’t have to talk.

  “Annie,” He gripped her arm. “Is this why you’re such a good shot? Them?” He extended his elbow at the trees ahead.

  “Trees are not exactly game.” She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

  After spending years in an asylum, admitting what she knew out loud seemed terrifying and dangerous. He can’t know, can he?

  He huffed at her. “Tight lipped, but quick.” He let out a chuckle and the rumbling of something beyond cut the chatter.

  “Move.” He nudged her aside.

  She jogged in front of him, looking above. No time to climb. She thought of the numerous animals she’d killed from position alone.

  A grunt came and then her entire body was pushed down. She rolled forward, tucking her gun in the crook of her arm to spin around and fire. The shot grazed the beast, but nearly hit Mr. Butler who charged. Unable to get a clean shot without hitting him, Annie grabbed some rocks off the ground and pelted the monster’s thick hide. Her arm was as true as her gun.

  Mr. Butler wrestled well enough to avoid the snapping jaws. Long sharp teeth bit at him. All he had were a couple of sticks to beat it with.

  “Where’s your damn gun?” she yelled at him.

  “Fire now!” he ordered as he jammed one of the sticks down the creature’s throat.

  Annie grit her teeth and pulled the trigger.

  Mr. Butler fell off the beast and she shot again, just to be sure. The mass of matted fur didn’t move.

  “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” She went to Mr. Butler and knelt before him, checking his arms and legs.

  He bellowed hard laughter. “You didn’t aim for me, did you?”

  “No.” She sat back.

  “And you never miss. Mr. Kratzenberger was right about you.”