The Hours of Creeping Night - a Collection of Dark Speculative Short Fiction Read Free Page B

creaked as it stooped down upon the Safat, widened a gaping hole lined with rows of uneven teeth, and swallowed the tiny bird.
    Screaming deafly in the drowning medium of the Wendigo’s flesh, the terrified Safat fell past bubbles of blood and tangles of meat, until it fell all the way out of the Wendigo’s back and into the snow.
    The confused Wendigo pivoted with uncanny speed to face the troublesome snack. Lying crumpled in a tangled mass of mud, ice and blood, the Safat looked up wide-eyed at the faceless monster. The Wendigo swallowed the Safat whole once more, and once more the Safat fell right through the creature.
    Frustrated and puzzled, the Wendigo towered above the tiny bird. It began to snow, but the Safat was now too cold to shiver and didn’t dare breathe as the Wendigo peered down at it with empty eyes.
    Finally, the Wendigo shifted and a sharp crack came from within it, like the breaking of a stone heart. The Wendigo deflated down into a merciful bow, its antlers touching the snow just before the Safat. Though relieved, the Safat dared not move. A sighing, strangely human, moan resonated from the pit of the Wendigo.
    Cautiously, the little Safat stepped onto the offered antlers. No sooner had his clawed feet left the snow, the Wendigo rose up to its ten-foot height and slid uphill through the trees. The broken Safat was nearly knocked backwards by the rush of air.
    In almost no time, they reached the top of the mountain. The Wendigo stopped as abruptly as it had started. It stooped, the ice within it grinding, long enough for the Safat to hop from its perch before drifting away into the woods.
    The Safat looked about. It had finally reached the sky. The air was thin and fit comfortably in his fluttering lungs. He looked down at the clouds from the great altitude he had finally reached. But the sky shone with a splendour he could not reach, and when night fell slowly about him, the stars twinkled in painful temptation. All the while, the sky was void of movement: his family was not there. For the first time, he realised he was truly alone.
    Turning in defeat, the Safat was greeted by the silent figure of the Wendigo. It had returned to watch the little bird with the cursed life, the tiny creature who had survived the mighty force of the ocean, continual famine, all the predators of the woodland, the freezing cold, and the wrath of the Wendigo itself. Now, the Wendigo watched as the Safat survived the breaking of its heart.
    Gliding toward the little creature, the Wendigo stooped once more. The Safat stepped onto the antlers with a heavy but grateful heart.
    The strangest sight is not the ever-flying Safat in the skies, nor the wood-spirit Wendigo hunting its prey. It is a fallen Safat perched on the antlers of a merciful Wendigo, haunting the woods in unison.

 
    The Atheist’s Soul
     
    I look down at the gulls and the jackdaws. They glide through the mist, fading and reappearing as they ride the thermals, lamenting to no one with their sad cries. The clouds roll over the cliff edge. Behind me, scattered leafless trees grow sideways in submission to the endless wind. In the distance, I can hear the lighthouse’s apathetic warning.
    I look down at my bare feet. My toes curl at the edge of the cliff. The wiry grass is sharp, but my flesh is beginning to numb in the cold. Rubble crumbles and falls – falls too far to see. I can just make out the waves breaking against the rocks. The sea is a distant hush – a sound unrelated to the violence below. The wind could easily unbalance me. I am waiting until it does. But then I am aware of a presence behind me.
    I step back. An audience of one breaks the spell around me. The man is wearing a fine suit. Something about him makes me feel heavy and cold inside. The wind doesn’t rustle his hair. He is stark against the mist; everything looks dull and hazy around him. He is an anchor of reality as the illusion of life rages around him.
     He puts his hand in his