Darren / Crepsley - 100 yards

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

There. Back to the familiar sounds. There was nobody else around. He would have heard more than a single branch snapping if there was. Nobody could creep up on Stanley J. Collins. He was a trained scoutmaster. His ears were as sharp as a fox’s.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Cru —

Snap.

Stanley stopped again and, for the first time, the fingers of fear began to squeeze around his beating heart.

That hadn’t been his imagination. He’d heard it, clear as a bell. A twig snapping, somewhere overhead. And before it snapped — had there been the slightest rustling sound, like something moving? Stanley gazed up at the trees but it was too dark to see.

***

The sound was closer this time, lower down, and suddenly Stanley could stand it no longer. He began to run. Stanley was a large man, but pretty fit for his age. Still, it had been a long time since he’d run this fast, and after a hundred yards he was out of breath and had a cramp in his side. He slowed to a halt and bent over, gasping for air. Crunch.

His head shot up.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

There were footsteps coming toward him! Slow, heavy footsteps. Stanley listened, terrified, as they came closer and closer. Had the monster leaped ahead of him through the trees? Had it climbed down? Was it coming to finish him off? Was it ...?

Crunch. Crunch.

The footsteps stopped and Stanley was able to make out a figure in the darkness. It was smaller than he’d expected, no bigger than a boy. He took a deep breath, straightened up, got his courage up, and stepped forward for a better look.

It was only a boy! A small, frightened-looking boy, dressed in a dirty suit.

***

Cirque Du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant, Chapter 1