A short story …

for Sunday Photo Fiction

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George received an invitation. The pleasure of his company was requested at a reunion of the class of nineteen thirty-one, transport to be provided.  He thought it odd.  Surely, he was the only one remaining. 

Nevertheless, on the appointed afternoon he donned his best suit, a crisp white shirt and even found his old school tie. 

Georges attempts at making conversation with his driver were met with silence.  He was just dropped at the hall, then the car sped off.

The door was ajar.  It creaked as he pushed it open. 

Through the gloom,  he could just make out ten figures, scattered around, motionless. One by one ten heads turned to face him.  Ten gaunt expressionless faces stared at him.

He began to recognise them. But they’d passed away years ago, hadn’t they? He’d attended some of their funerals.

As one,  they stretched out their arms toward him.   He shivered.   Deciding not to stay he turned to head for the door,  but where was it?  No door.  No walls, no ceiling.  Just … nothing.

Slowly the figures circled around him, hands beckoning as they closed in.  Closer and closer they came.  Then they were gone.  They were all … gone.

 

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bastard-hall_78Thanks to Donna for hosting.

Photo courtesy of Morguefile

27 thoughts on “A short story …

  1. Gabriella Jul 20, 2020 / 17:46

    This is chillingly brilliant, Keith. I really like the atmosphere of your story.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Natasha Jul 22, 2020 / 12:06

    Wooooaaah! This one’s just something else. Brilliant imageries of spookiness!

    Liked by 1 person

      • Natasha Jul 23, 2020 / 09:03

        Nahhh! I love horror and indulge myself by writing and watching some too. 🙂 So I’m good.

        Liked by 1 person

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