A Deer in Headlights
“Ain’t seen anything like it in all my seventy-two years,” Oldman said.
“Reckon we scared it to death?” Elliot asked his grandfather, gesturing to the deer frozen in the middle of the road.
Oldman released a huff of breath into the chilled November night, examining the fog rolling past his lips, “Reckon, or it froze to death.”
I Wrote a Horror Novella!
Brace yourself.
This story will be hard to read. Hell, it’s not a pleasant story for me to write. It’s grotesque and abhorrent.
I’m just going to put it all out on front street. I am not a well-adjusted human being. But, then again, who is? What does it even mean to be “well-adjusted”? I suppose we are all fucked up in our own unique way.
I guess I’ll start with when I stuck my hand in the garbage disposal.