Category : Stories

Sub Category : Horror

     The fall leaves don't make any sound here, just the beautiful colors dancing in the moonlight. I've always loved Fall's wonderful colors and the brisk air that starts to nip at your cheeks like little love nips from the coming winter. The forrest is my favorite place to camp because most of the camping crowd has dispersed once summer ended, and it's just me and the silence. The kind of silence that isn't so much from the lack of ambient noise but from the absence of human presence. I bathe in this silence. 
     Days collapse into weeks, but still I am enriched by this purity. Hunting and foraging become my main day to day activities, as well as learning how to speed up the process and refining my skill set. I can skin a rabbit with just three cuts and slowly making this progress with deer. I have started my own tent of pelts I have collected and tanned, and it had been coming along perfectly. Only the flawless skins would do. 
     I felt content here, but a shiver went up my spine as it was no longer silent. I heard all those sounds that echoed off the rocky wall faces. Pounding off my eardrums as it ricocheted off the trees. Foot steps. Yes. That was the deafening sound. Murmuring. Talking. Breathing. Fuck the sound that's shattering my perfect silence. No. Not the sound. The humans. I tried to focus on my hunt, especially the cleaning and skinning but damn those humans and their sound. Fucking awful sounds. I can feel as they approach me. One of them bid me good morning. My knife slipped, damaging my new skin. 
     I blacked out. I suspect from the tracks that were made that I threw a knife at the man's throat, the one who bid me good morning. The two people accompanying him stumbled as they ran and I pursued them. Taking them out with the knife and rock, which was still in my hand even after I dragged the bodies back to my camp. I prepped them for skinning and cleaning. Why would I waste valuable resources?
     I never forgot how I mastered my skills that night. How perfect I made each cut and the beautiful colors of fall and blood and moonlight. How my silence enveloped me again in its loving embrace. 
     Sure I was found again when others came to search for those three other humans. They never found their meat, organs, or bones; which had all proven to be quite filling and useful. But the humans who found me couldn't help but notice their friends' skins hanging from my tent's front door. Nosey little fuckers. Couldn't just mind their own business. Sure I almost took one of them out, but these ones had more spine to them. Even as they pinned me to the ground, I couldn't help but think of the uses I'd have for spines like those. 
     As I sit here in the police station writing this "confession", I observe the cold concrete looking walls and feeling the cold metal against my skin. I think back on that night with a deep sigh of content. The fall leaves don't make a sound there, just the beautiful colors dancing in the moonlight.