The Face

It was a dark and desolate place. Dead trees littered the landscape, and there were gravestones everywhere. There was a bit of sparse undergrowth here and there, but for the most part the ground was barren. This is the scene that Albert Rogers was looking at. He had no recollection of arriving here, yet here he was. He had been sitting his overweight self in his La-Z boy, watching some late night television. Next thing he knew, he was suddenly standing in the center of the before mentioned setting.

Looking around, his first thought was, “How did that happen?” He felt a small breeze in his lower regions. He looked down to find that, apparently, he had lost his clothing in the mysterious jump through space. Suddenly, there was a loud POP! He jumped a few inches out of shock, and then came to his senses to find himself staring into the knowing eyes of an old, wizened face.

Albert nearly leaped out of his own skin as he let out a piercing shriek. His heart jumped to his throat and began to pound fast as a rabbit’s. The face was just that. It just hovered there at eye level, flickering like a candle, beard flowing as if underwater. Recovering from the initial shock, Albert decided to cautiously reach a hand out to touch it. The face opened its mouth and snapped at his finger. He jerked back his finger as the apparition faded back into its solemn demeanor.

Slowly, the face once again opened its mouth, extending the lower jaw to unnatural lengths. A low groan emitted from the black space resulting, starting out quietly and growing louder. Soon, the earth beneath Albert’s feet shook with the force of the noise. He turned on his heel and ran. He ran and ran and ran. Yet it was to no avail, for the sound was still there. He looked back behind his shoulder, and saw that the face had given chase. Louder, louder, louder still the noise grew.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. Albert stopped running and turned to face the apparition again, but saw that it had disappeared.