War: 8.1.1930


War has come to Cross.

I will not let it past the stonewall of Gods’ Hollow, not if my town is to survive.

Last night, as July said goodbye and August crept in like a thief, I heard the rattle of machinegun fire and felt the unmistakable thud of artillery. I have fought in a great many wars, and I am well-familiar with the sounds of violence.

When dawn breached the horizon, it found me standing across North Road and looking into the Hollow. Most of the damned place was covered in a haze of smoke and mist, which managed to smother the chatter of death.

One of the Coffins happened to be passing by, and I sent him to gather the Cross Militia. A squad of ten arrived a short time later, and we held a brief palaver there on the road. All ten were veterans, and they too recognized the noise issuing forth from the Hollow for what it was.

They agreed to set a guard upon the road, to not let any pass along it, nor to allow any other than myself to exit the Hollow. While they offered to accompany me into the place, I could see the relief upon their faces when I said their task was to hold the road.

Armed with my Colts and a Browning Automatic Rifle I had acquired from John Browning, I entered the Hollow.

I’d gone no more than twenty paces in before the mist cleared, and I caught sight of a four-man patrol hunkered down near a hill that had not been in the Hollow the night before. From what I could see, the men were Germans, wearing the helmets preferred by them at the start of the last war. As they spoke to one another, I heard them discuss the men and the monsters against whom they were fighting.

One of them, unfortunately, saw me, and the fight began.

It did not last long, and I can say with all sincerity that they did not suffer overly much.

Yet as the last fell to the ground, there was a rattling hiss, and all four corpses clambered onto one another, forming a mass of meat that charged at me.

This thing took a great deal more effort to kill, and it revealed a bitter truth:

This fight would be no easy thing.

#horror #monsters #supernatural #death

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Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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