These woods are haunted

‘I’m telling you, we’re being followed.’

Mikey turned and peered along the quiet road into the gloom. 

‘You’ve an overactive imagination.  There’s nothing there.’

‘Something’s there.’

‘Come-on, let’s get you home before you crap your pants.’

Mikey set off again, Neil scuttling alongside, his head swivelling like an anxious periscope.

‘My sister says these woods are haunted.’

‘They are if she’s hanging around in them.  Take it easy, will you.’

‘There, did you hear that?’

‘What?’

A stick snapped off to their right.

‘That.’

‘It’s just an animal.’

Something clattered into them from behind, knocking them over.

‘Mikey?’

‘Come-on, run!’




A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.