Creative Writing: The Barn On Black Canyon Road

The Barn On Black Canyon Road

The snow is falling heavily now, large opaque flakes drifting to and fro, trying to find their place in a dangerous world. It’s not safe for snowflakes out here. I walk briskly to the barn. The yellow lamp above the door puts out a faint drone, the only noise save for the crunching of snow and ice beneath my feet. I grip the horseshoe handle and pull, breaking ice along the hinges, causing them to squeak in protest. Too cold, too tired, too demanding of me. I gently pull the door shut, and lean against the wall. The soft chatter of owls in the rafters catches my attention and I look up. They stare back inquisitively for a moment while I watch them shift and settle again by way of moonlight seeping through the worn roof and then all is quiet.
I shudder and pull my scarf tighter as I notice how cold it really is. As if on cue the fog moves in closer and hides the moon, the barn is now covered in suffocating darkness, slowly closing in on me. A sharp rapping on the door makes me jump, as there should be nobody outside. Do I dare open the door? Perhaps it’s only a dog wanting to find refuge from the storm. Yes, that must be it. I creep toward the door and place my numb fingertips on the handle. The noise stops unexpectedly. I sigh and pull my hand away from the door, leaning against the wall again. Without warning the wind picks up and the door swings open. A dark figure steps in and I scramble behind a straw bale. It growls, inching forward on beastly paws. I can hear each claw gouge the floorboards as it comes toward me like a heat seeking missile. My heart rate increases and my breath catches, my ribs expand and contract but my lungs are screaming. I try to breathe but instead I let out a ragged gasp. The creature twitches and stands still a moment, then it lets out a low snarl and rushes toward the straw bale. My body flutters to life and without thinking I run out the door. The creature races