Dan sighed at his aunt.
"Oh come on, man. The barn isn't even that far," she gestured at him with a dirty dishrag, "and I really need that wrench." She wrung her hands in mock pleading and smiled at him. He stood from the table and put his plate in the sink, feeling her hand on his shoulder in an affectionate grip.
"Where is it?" He slid on his shoes and grabbed his jacket.
"It should be near the back, on one of the benches," she said, handing him a flashlight from the kitchen drawer.
"'Kay" He put it in his pocket where it would be easily accessible.
He stepped out the screen door, the thing creaking loudly as it fell shut behind him, when she added: "Oh, and try not to spook the cows. You know how nervous they are." He smiled to himself and gave her a thumbs up as he headed towards the dirt road leading to their small barn.
The moon was full tonight and he didn't even need the flashlight as he walked. He headed down the small hill from their yard, past his aunt's cars, and towards the tree line. The road was mostly gravel and ran downwards for the entire stretch. The sounds of his shoes on the rocks was the only noise in the night. Trees became much more abundant the farther he went, the path soon being lined by a steady wall of darkness. It was a five minute walk there and he was beginning to wish he had brought some music to listen to; he was starting to get uneasy in the silence. .
The trees were in thicker clusters here, and closer to the path, so the flashlight came into play finally. The dim beam didn't do much, but at least he could see well enough to not slip and break his neck. Overall, Dan wasn't much afraid of the dark, but it still made him uneasy depending on where he was. Currently, walking through a nearly pitch black forest on a loose gravel road towards a decrepit barn, he was pretty freaked out. He'd made plenty of trips down here at night, all of which went well, but that never made his nerves go away. You never knew what could be hiding in the darkness, especially in the trees.
A glint ahead of him caught his eye and he sped up, eager to reach the barn and then leave. The gravel faded to grass as he went up to the grey, chipping double doors, trying to make the least amount of noise possible so as to not frighten Mitsy and the other cows. He flipped up the lock and pulled on the door, having to tug harder in spots where it'd catch on the ground. The dark was oppressing and the smell was horrid. Yep, a barn.
The beam of light illuminated the old rafters and wooden walls, making it look like a scene straight from a murder movie. Hay littered the ground, muffling his footsteps and sticking to his shoes. He made his way past the stables, tiptoeing towards the row of work benches at the back. After searching through the clutter of nails, screws, and other oil coated objects, Dan finally found the wrench. It was only then that he realized how deathly quiet everything was.
He had been the only thing making noise since he'd come in, which was odd, even for the night. The cows should have at least given him an acknowledging moo. Setting the tool down, he turned the flashlight back to the stables, walking to check on the girls. His heart quickened with each step, thoughts of the worst possible scenarios intruding in his brain. Suddenly, he cried out, falling hard on the ground. The flashlight skittered across the floor.
Pain shot through his elbow as he started to raise himself up, trying to see what he had slipped on. Everything around him felt wet but it was too dark to tell exactly what it was. He stood, shaking out his arm, and picked up the flashlight, just as he heard the clicking. He shined the light towards the noise and froze; there was something there.
It was grotesque with a dark, snake-like body that ended it a long, barbed tail. It's many legs clicked against the ground, each one at least as tall as Dan's chest. Giant pincers took up most of it's face, dripping dark liquid that sizzled against the hay. There was also the startling fact it was running straight at him.,
Coming back to his senses, Dan had no hesitation in throwing himself to the ground, leaping into the nearest stall. The thing didn't recover in time, hitting hard against the bench and scattering the contents around it's feet. Dan tried to push himself up, but his hands sunk into something wet and sickening. Through what little light the flashlight offered, he saw he was elbows-deep in cow organs. He screamed. .
He bolted away from ,what was, Mitsy and headed for the door, flashlight swinging madly in his hand. His breath came in sharp gasp and tears were blurring his vision, which nearly caused him to smash into one of the barn's support beams. The door was there, only a few feet away, but he never made it. A searing pain exploded along the backside of his right calf, causing him to fall, face-first, to the dirty ground. He spun in time to see the creature strike down above him, nearly piercing his chest as he rolled away. The dull metal of the flashlight vibrated as he brought it down on it's scaled head, sending a shock through his arm as it swung at his stomach, this time catching and slicing a thin line through his flesh.
Running was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but adrenaline made it possible. He weaved between poles, searching for a way out but seeing nothing. Something shone out from the dark and he recognized it as a pitchfork, old and rusted, but still whole. Without thinking, he snatched it from the hay and turned, hoping against hope that it'd be enough. When the monster rushed him this time, he held out the tool and thrust blindly, feeling a connection.
The shrill screech that came was enough to make him want to curl up and sob. It was like a dying animal mixed with nails on a chalkboard and it caused Dan immense pain, but he held on, still pushing the pitchfork deeper and deeper. A flicker of hope entered his mind, maybe the thing would die, but it was crushed as suddenly as it had come. The monster jerked sharply, sending Dan flying into one of the benches, and he heard the sound of snapping wood. The prongs were still lodged into it's head but the handle was laying on the ground in pieces. For a moment, the beast just stood there, shaking from side to side and screaming. Please, please let it die, he thought, but his prayers soon disintegrated as it regained it's composure and rushed at him again.
Dan did the only thing he could think to do: climb. His leg throbbed in protest as he grabbed onto the wooden beam behind him and jumped, clutching his legs around it, the cut burning like fire. It vibrated as the monster crashed into it, still slightly disorientated by the metal in its face, as Dan continued to climb, grabbing whatever he could find as handholds. He reached out for the edge of the floor of the barn's loft, letting go with his legs and being suspended for a moment above ground, ten feet up. He hefted himself up and rolled onto the new floor, choking on sobs all the while.
Below, the monster was searching for him. He held his breath, trying to make no noise, hoping it would leave to go look outside. The pitchfork seemed to have taken away most of it's sight as it bumped into nearly everything in it's search. After a moment, it stopped and that speck of hope returned. It was making a sound, almost like it was sniffing the air trying to catch his scent. It turned, slowly, still smelling, until it pointed its head up towards the loft. Dan cursed in his head; he was covered in cow blood.
It started trying to climb the nearest pillar, but couldn't seem to get a hold of it. Dan pushed himself against the wall, tears streaming down his face, and waited. He couldn't think of any way out, nothing up here could be used as a weapon, and he was tired. Death didn't seem so bad in that moment. The monster was trying to climb the wall now, sliding it's skeletal legs into the holes that littered the wood and slowly rising up. Dan closed his eyes, wanting everything to be over.
There was a bright flash that lit up the backs of his eyes and the sounds in the barn changed; there was yelling.
He opened his eyes to the sight of white lights moving around the room. He heard voices, saw the monster had fallen from the wall and was screeching again. Whoever these people were, they were killing it. They were holding the lights, sending them down into it as it screamed louder than it had when Dan had stabbed it. Suddenly, the shrieks slowed then stopped, leaving only the breathing from the strangers and his own light sobs. He could vaguely see the faces of the four people there: they all looked young, maybe even his age. That was all he could make out before he toppled over the edge of the loft.