Harold Dumbar

by Nick D.
(Rowlett, TX)

Harold Dumbar, is an old 82 year old man that lives in the middle of nowhere surrounded by nothing but woods. He does have one neighbor though, Richard Slimpo.

As Harold is about to go to bed, he goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. “Wow Harold,” he says to himself, “you’re getting old.” Looking in the mirror, he judges his wrinkly face and dilated dark brown eyes, his gray hair ringing around his bald head leaving a huge bald spot; along with a faint, little gray mustache right under his gigantic nose.

Tip-toeing to his bed, he crawls under his covers as he loads his shotgun with shells and lays it on the deserted side of his bed where his wife passed away with cancer. The reason for laying his shotgun there is because one night he heard a cold, shivering voice coming from the woods chanting his name, “Harold.”

He falls asleep.

Waking up in the middle of the night he listens to the little girl’s voice coming from the woods, “Harold.” Looking at his alarm clock, it reads 2:00 AM. Harold grabs his shotgun. He grips it firmly to his chest slipping his slippers on to his feet. Out the front door, he walks slowly to the woods shaking with terror.

“Harold,” he hears the voice once more, only this time it was close as if she, or it, was sneaking up on him. He then notices a glowing light shooting straight up from in the woods, then he sees her. He sees the little girl. Closer, now noticing the details, her mouth is half ripped off with blood pouring from her mouth and her empty eye sockets.

Harold screams in terror as he shoots the girl with his shotgun. Shocked by the reaction... she didn’t fall down! She opens her half mouth as wide as it can go with sharp teeth piercing out. She makes a leap for Harold. She bites his arm, and then slowly, slowly nibbles up to the head.

“Ahhhhhhh,” Harold screams as he wakes up from his bed. Glancing over at the clock noticing it was 8:30 AM. He looks at his arm and notices a scratch. He also checks to see if his shotgun is loaded, “That’s weird” he says to himself, “there’s only one bullet.” He’s confused. Was it a dream?

Harold is making a cup of coffee as he turns on the TV. He sits down to watch the news for about 30 minutes. Getting up, Harold walks over to the TV to turn it off. When he turns it off, he sees a reflection on the screen of the little girl he saw in his “dream”. Turning around, he spots her. He drops his cup of coffee as it shatters all over the floor. He remembers that he left his shotgun upstairs. He jukes around the girl as he sprints, nearly trembling, up the stairs to his room to spot the shotgun on his bed. He grabs it and heads back towards the stairs, but there she was, waiting at the top.

“Goodbye Harold” the girl says as she pushes him down the wooden stairs. Then, she opens her mouth widely to see the sharp teeth hanging out of her bloody, half cut off mouth. She leaps from the top of the stairs down to Harold landing on top of him. Harold screams. He screams so loud that Richard can here him.

Knocking on the door, Richard Slimpo calls for Harold. “Harold?”

No answer.

He opens the door to notice Harold at the foot of the stairs, with his head cut off, along with half of his mouth. Blood is drenching out of his empty eye sockets.

“Ahhhhhh,” Richard screams. He’s even more terrified when he hears a cold-shivering voice behind him. That of a little girl.

“Richard.”

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