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Weekly Contest #359
Fog rolled in from the mountains early that night; thick enough to to blur the treeline a mere 20 feet away. Pouring down rain and a full moon loomed over the forest and wind whipped through the tree branches. I sat in an old chair; two dead rabbits lay on the table glistening with fresh blood. I’m thankful I came back from hunting when I did. If I hadn’t, who knows if I would have made it back in this retched weather. Suddenly, I heard a thundering knock at the door and then another and another. Quickly I leapt up from my chair and raced to...
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