Far Horizons: Tales of Sci-Fi, Fantasy and Horror. Issue #15 June 2015 | Page 90

had taken care to keep it that way. Water dripped out
of the nearby faucet and the sink was wet. I began to
wonder what I had stumbled upon. The pantries were
well stocked with canned goods and a half-eaten can
of beans rested on the counter.
From the kitchen, three doorways lead away from the
main room I had entered from. The first door I tried
lead to what was probably a small bedroom, which
was dilapidated and crumbling much like the outside
of the house. None of the care the kitchen or main
room had been shown was evident in here. The closed
off space was dusty and dilapidated. The last door
way, adjacent from the one through which I had originally entered the kitchen, lead into a small darkened
hallway that most likely lead to the rest of the house.
I could make out stairs leading up to the next floor the
house on the left side of the hallway with what was
probably a closet door underneath. The rest of the
small passage was shrouded in shadows that I could
not disperse with my lantern.
I was about to turn around and retreat to the main
room once more when suddenly I heard the unmistakable sound of a human cry. I froze, suddenly feeling
the remoteness of the broken old house surrounding
me. I was far from the road, a bear or some large
animal was stalking outside, and my only refuge was
a crumbling abode with a possible dying squatter. Despite my fear, however, I found myself unable to leave
a possibly injured human without assistance. I knew
that whoever had taken this place as their residence
had no one else to help.
Taking the lantern, I moved down the dark hallway,
the light a bubble of protection against the rot and
dark that filled the place. The hallway had several
rooms leading off from it, and I was unsure of where
to go. At the end I saw stairs leading down, and at the
bottom lay heavy wooden door with faint, flickering
light around the edges. Cautiously I made my way
towards it and touched the door, finding it unnaturally
warm. Opening it produced a cloud of black smoke
that worked its way up into the house. I guessed that
this door must lead to what I had originally thought
was a storm shelter, tied to the room the smoke had
billowed out of from the twin doors outside. The

smoke had abated enough, however, that I felt confident moving through. What I saw has haunted my
dreams ever since.
The room I found was obviously not part of the original house. The walls were metal, and large tables
with shackles and straps lined the floor. Steel cabinets
adorned the corners of the room filled with strange
vials filled with coloured liquids. Fluorescent lighting
flickered overhead, barely enough to bathe the scene in
a pale blue glow. Everything had a black film over it,
and a few computer terminals still smoked or burned
with fire. There were several bodies around the metal
tables adorned with white lab coats with the words
“Project Ravage” written on the left side. I was drawn
to a still moving figure near a set of steps leading to
the open doors I’d seen outside.
The man’s clothes were soaked with dark red blood,
and I could tell he did not have long left in the world.
He raved hoarsely how they should have known better,
how they should not have made “it.” When I asked
him what he was referring to, he pointed behind me,
and I turned around. On top of the steps, standing
at the entryway of the double doors, a huge creature
stood, illuminated by the moonlight. It looked like a
bear, standing on its hind legs, glaring down at me
with glowing yellow eyes. The thing had four upper
arms, and a snout with teeth that were over two inches
long. It roared and leapt towards us and as I rolled to
one side as it fell upon the dying man, and began to
tear into him.
I ran as fast as I could from that house. I do not remember anything more until I was discovered wandering along the road, covered in blood and rambling. A
few days later, under the safety of daylight, I returned
with authorities to the abandoned house. I found it
razed to the ground with only a smoking, charred hole
left to show that anything had been there at all. While
I could never convince anyone of what I saw, I have
not forgotten it. I do not drive at night anymore unless
I can’t help it, and every time I do I fear I’ll see something standing on the road waiting for me under the
moonlight, looking with harsh yellow eyes.

PAGE 00
90