In my little town, like most small towns, there was an urban legend. Maybe people use these in order to make their town seem more exciting or something, but this one is mine. The urban legend describes the rising of a Skeleton, and the horrors in which it got up to.
In the darkness, all was peaceful. But then, something changed. Something dramatically changed. The wind got heavier, grey clouds crowded the sky, the air filled with mist. As the green grass turned dark, and blew to one side, something began to rise by the graveyard. Strangely enough, not in the graveyard, but right next to it. The dry mud, becoming moist flew into the sky, as though it was flicked out of the ground. It started to float, like some sort of ufo or something. A circle was created through rising ground, and as it twisted into to some sort of shape, a figure was revealed. Moments later, this figure was fully formed, and walked to the nearest house. It had a skull for a head - no brains, no skin, no blood. Just bone. It had daggers for teeth, which chattered as it walked. It wore a 3-peice-suit, with a pocket watch tied to the waistcoat. And its hands, well, one was normal, the other was a hook. A sharp, blade-like hook, capable of digging into anything - even metal.
This haggard skeleton, covered in mud, walked to the nearest house. A young womans, Sophia’s. Sophia had recently met a man in a local nightclub, she woke up with a hangover. The man, still lying on the bed, from the night before. And the night before that. In fact, he’d been there for the last few weeks. Their relationship developed, and this one night, they both left to sit on a hill and watch the sun rise.
The skeleton, who has since been named ‘The Bone’, walked to this house. Past plant pots, decoration, and as the wind blew, it walked to the front door. Knocking over every plant pot, or anything that made the garden look nice or presentable. The Bone dug its hook into the front door, unlocked it from the inside, and opened the door, slamming the door behind it. It walked up the stairs, and into the bathroom, jumping into the shower.
It came out, dripping with water, as some sort of facial structure became visible. It walked around, searching the house for anything to take, or just to look at. It found a black fedora, and place the hat firmly on its head. With that, he was prepared to leave.
Sophia returned home that night, with her new man - Colin. Laughing, and chatting, they entered their house and saw something terrifying. A monster walking down the stairs, as though everything was normal. Sophia screamed, Colin held her.
“Get the fuck out!” Colin threatened. The Bone, without a word, turned to him. It swung its arm in the air, the hook, gleaming. Colin tried to turn away, protecting Sophia simultaneously. Its arm flung around, slowly, but somehow powerful too. Effortlessly, it slashed the back of Colins head. He held onto his head as The Bone removed its hook.
“Run” Colin screamed, attempting to sacrifice his life for the sake of Sophias. After all, she was carrying his child. As Colin pushed Sophia toward the back door, he flung a wooden plank at the window, smashing it. But Sophia did not run. She tried to stop the skeleton, grabbing another wooden plank and raising it in the air. But she did not swing. She did not attack.
She was found in the morning, her throat slit, with evidence of other marks before the final blow. All that was left was a painting of a skull, leaning against the wall. Strangely, with two lines at the top.
Another murder, another painting, another line.
Three lines soon became four, as one more body was found in similar condition.
And four lines had a line through as the next body was found, with a new painting. It was a tally chart. ‘The Bone’ was counting its victims.
The tally was counting the people who had died at the hands of this skeleton.
I closed my laptop, I’ve read enough for one night. I turned out my light, then got scared and turned on my lamp. I couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning all night, so I decided to take a peak through my curtains, out to my window. I looked across my back garden as the rain pounded against the ground. Splashing my window, water kept falling from the sky. And past my plant pots, I saw something which I had not looked properly at for many years. Since I was at least 14. A tree house.
Since I got banned from going in there - a three month ban - I have never returned. Something felt a little off about it, besides, I had no interest in that tree house anymore. To explain why I got the ban, to put it short, I got caught smoking and drinking alcohol with some of my friends in there. I haven’t touched a cigarette either, though the same can’t be said for the alcohol. Anyway, that is beside the point.
I decided I would revisit the tree house, as I couldn’t sleep, when would be a better time than at 2:37 in the morning? I slipped on my coat and my slippers, and walked across the wet grass, leading to the tree house.
Inside the treehouse, there is no light. Just a pit of darkness, pitch black darkness, so I took a flashlight as well as my phone. The uninviting gloom almost put me off, but I thought to myself ‘Fuck it. Why not?’. Stepping inside, I held my flashlight in the sky and… nothing new. But nothing old, either. I think it had been stripped. Probably by my parents, they hate clutter, that’s probably where I got it from. The floorboards creaked as I walked around. Though, there were some weird claw marks. I figured it was probably something from when my parents when they were emptying the place.
I felt a strange rumbling in my bones, deep in my gut. In my stomach. I felt a shaking but not a real shaking. It was as though I was making it up, but I wasn’t. I knew it was real. I also knew that it was time to head back inside - it was probably thunder, which is usually followed by lightning. I rushed through the pouring rain, the darkness forming mist. The dark mist swallowed the trees behind me. My front door slammed, and I rushed back to bed, but peered through the window first. I had an odd feeling of being watched. Irrational, I know, but maybe not?
As I approached my curtains, I felt my subconscious begging me not to look. I raised my hand, but dropped it, having second thoughts. Well, second, third, fourth, fifth and so on… thoughts. I pulled the curtain to the side, flinching as they opened, and immediately turning around to look around my room before checking outside. Nothing. Peace. Inside, at least. And now to look outside. I turned, slowly, overthinking, dreading the view of the outside world.
“SHIT”
A muddy, soaked skeleton, stood firmly in my back garden. Still. Staring. I stayed still, too. Frozen in my spot. I couldn’t physically move, even when this… thing… stared up into my bedroom window. We made direct eye contact. What was I to do? I ran downstairs and hid. The front door smashed open. A shiver went down my spine as I glared through to the hallway. Heavy footsteps stomped up the stairs, and I quietly opened the back door. I tiptoed, very quickly, over to my treehouse. It had come in handy. I made a narrow escape. But it wasn’t over. I needed to hide. I jumped into the tree house, and sat down, still, but shaking simultaneously. I finally felt comfortable, and I looked around a little. To my right, something had appeared. A painting. A painting of a skull. An extra line had been added. I jumped and looked away, toward the deep vacuum of the darkness outside, but I was greeted by a smiling skull, teeth chattering. Once again, we made eye contact.
“Please” I cried. “Please don’t hurt me”.
It raised its hook again.