A Night by the Campfire #3: Three Short Stories

Hi folks, let me see if I can sum up Midnight Burger in about 25 seconds. Really big monsters, Hero. I run in congratulations! You are a prisoner of the Tat Empire. Leave dated an orb one time?

On the wall! To radio, it's talking to me. A space pirate. This is the stupidest dystopia we've ever been to.

Yeah, that didn't work at all. At the next level things, there is a diner. Look for Midnight Burger on your favorite podcasting app or just go to WeOpenAt6.com. Welcome! Take a seat! Tonight's first story is a tale of hunter and prey.

This is Daddy's home from author Iskato. You're listening to a night by the campfire. Killer on the loose. Please lock your windows and doors.

Last seen near crescent heights University. Students, please exercise the utmost caution as you go about your studies. This has been Channel 9 News. Stay safe out there. Some...some...some...some.

She covers her mouth. Light streams through the cracks in the closet. Wet breath coats her palm. Bang, Russell, something drags along the floor. Footsteps, creek against wooden floorboards.

Metal, drags behind. All she can hear is her heartbeat in her ears. her throat tightens as she struggles to breathe. She opens the closet slow, so as to not make a sound.

Crawling on hands and knees, she makes for the bedroom door. She presses herself against the wall, arms, wrapping around her knees. Greek, Greek, Greek, Greek, Greek. The footsteps grow closer.

Her toenails dig into the carpet she reaches for her phone on the end table. A shadow blocks the light from under the door. Smash! Her eyes snap shut.

Her phone vibrates in her hand. Bright light casts shadows over her tear-streaked face. Hey Natalie, your dad and I are almost at your campus, we're so excited to see you. Kisses, talks in.

Sump, sump. Dirt-crusted souls peek from under the door. Metal scratches down the wooden frame. I can smell you princess.

Come give that yet change. Hey! This door is almost established you. Hey!

Wood splinters around the lock. Almost there. The blanket drapes down in front of her face under the bed. Her heart slams against the rough carpet, her eyes strained to see the intruder.

Blue jeans ripped at the knees, dirt-crusted work boots. The smell of urine and sour garbage waths through the room. Thump. All-way light glints from the edge of the rusted axe.

Making Daddy sad, let's play a game. He lifts the axe from the floor. Smashing a sob escapes between her fingers and her calves cramp. The bedframe caves in splintering beside her head.

She tries to dial 9-1-1 with trembling fingers but misses the numbers. Her mother calls. She swans at the green button. Hey Natalie, we're down in the water!

She screams, soap, soap, soap, soap, soap. Parents found the remains of their daughter, late last night. Another brutal murder at CHU. Authorities have taken action, closing the dorms until the suspect has been apprehended.

Our condolences go out to the families of the victims. Please stay tuned on Channel 9 news for updates and stay safe out there. The screen goes dark. In the reflection, torn jeans at the knees.

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Our second story is a tale of choice. But whether you trust your brain or your gut, you can't escape fate. This is the phone from the woods, by author MUNIR. A week ago, I uncovered an old flip phone with no logo in the woods behind my house.

I flipped it open. To my surprise, the light flashed on. It was completely empty of contacts or anything else. A text message suddenly popped up.

Avoid the highway. I read in disbelief and looked for the sender. Unknown. I typed out, who is this?

I got no response. a darkness lingered in my chest. I decided to take the long way to work that day. Hey, Todd.

My co-worker said, as he walked through the office door.