IT CALLS FROM THE FOREST
VOLUME ONE
Copyright © 2020 Eerie River Publishing
All Rights Reserved.
This book is a work of fiction.
Names, characters, places, events, organizations and
incidents are either part of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any
manner, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without express written permission by the author(s) and or publisher.
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-7770410-7-6
Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-7770410-8-3
Digital ISBN: 978-1-7770410-1-4
Edited by Alanna Robertson-Webb
Cover design by Michelle River
Book Formatting by Michelle River
Title page art by
When you are finished reading this collection of stories please take a moment and review it online.
AVAILABLE NOW FROM
EERIE RIVER PUBLISHING
Storming Area 51: Horror At the Gate
Don’t Look: 12 Stories of Bite Sized Horror
COMING SOON: 2020
Forgotten Ones: Drabbles of Myth and Legend
It Calls From The Forest
It Calls From The Forest: Volume II
It Calls From The Sky
It Calls From The Sea
The Spaces In Between
Dedicated to all our families and friends. Those that have stood beside us, and often behind us while we type away, bringing us coffee and listening to us talk about our characters as if they were real; because they are.
Thank you for believing in us.
Contents
Foreword
A Wail of a Tail
Emma K. Leadley
The Thing In The Woods
D.R. Smith
The Hike
E.E.W. Christman
Only Snow
Clint Foster
Carhaze
Dale Drake
Knotwork Hill
C.W. Blackwell
Lazarus’ Respite
Michael Subjack
Forest Man
Holley Cornetto
Return To The Woods
G. Allen Wilbanks
The Lady in the Woods
Michael D. Nadeau
A Matter Of Recycling
Rouse Them Not
Tim Mendees
Dig
Elizabeth Nettleton
Pumpkinface
T.S. Hurt
Neumack Woods
N.M. Brown
Thirteen
Craig Crawford
Automatic Contamination
M.A. Smith
Interference
Matthew A. St. Cyr
Getting Away from It All
Greg Hunter
Fairies in the forest
Jason Holden
The Von Brunner Woods
Evan M. Elgin
Jodie’s spot
Mark Towse
Seita
Thomas Wake
Hollow Woods
Brian Duncan
Don’t Miss Out!
Foreword
We want to take a moment and thank you for purchasing this book, for supporting Eerie River Publishing and for experiencing the talented authors we’ve featured.
It is in our nature to seek the wild. We yearn for it, we crave it within the essence of our souls. We clamour out of cities to search it out, this fleeting promise of peace and solitude within nature.
There are dangers that lurk within the boundaries of trees and soil, where fresh air and meandering streams are not the only things that whisper our names.
Inside this anthology of the dark and twisted, you will read original stories over from award-winning authors that have dared to take this journey. Let them weave you tales of the hidden, secrets within plain sight. Stories of beasts, both human and not, and of unspeakable horrors dwelling amid the trees.
May you be forever entertained,
Eerie River Publishing
A Wail of a Tail
Emma K. Leadley
Bill’s stomach grumbled loudly enough that his dog, Jasper, turned to see what the noise was. They had spent a long, fruitless day together, and now dusk was setting. No damned animal had stayed long enough in the groundsman’s sights for him to aim, and even his traps had been disappointingly empty of potential dinner. Not even a tasteless, bony squirrel. Vegetable stew and stale bread it would have to be.
Taking one last look around before heading for the cabin, his heart leapt. Deep-brown fur flashed between the trunks only a short distance away. Bill estimated it to be the size of a very large cat — enough to eat like a king for a week. He pulled up his rifle and breathed deeply to steady his shoulders. Taking aim a single shot rang out, followed by a shrill, piercing scream. “Come on, lad,” he called to Jasper whilst running towards the kill. “Dinner for us!”
On the ground, where the creature should have been, was a tail. It was thick, meaty, and covered in coarse fur. Yet here was no body and, even more puzzling to Bill, no blood — not even a drop. He scratched his head whilst he looked around, perhaps it was getting too dark? Jasper circled, whining in excitement, but couldn’t find a scent trail to follow. It was as though the creature had just...disappeared...
Bill hefted the tail; it was definitely enough to add to the stew pot. Back at the cabin he sat on the stoop and skinned it, hanging the pelt on the rafters to dry. He cut round the bones, and finding them too small for Jasper, threw them into the woods for something else to enjoy. Taking up his knife again he sliced the remaining meat, thinking how sweet it smelt, not earthy like the plentiful squirrels or occasional deer that were his usual fare. Stirring together his foraged selection of herbs and bartered vegetables with the meat, he left the stew to cook over the open fire.
As it bubbled away the cabin filled with a mouth-watering smell. It was exotic and intoxicating, unlike anything Bill had ever experienced before. It promised a satisfying meal and, when staring into the smoke from the fire, he saw strange shapes form: hints of adventure and riches, the woman of his dreams...No, not just those, but all his hopes and aspirations coming to pass?
He shook his head, clearing his sight and his mind. Something wasn’t right. Had he put the wrong kind of mushrooms in the cooking pot? Jasper didn’t even seem to smell anything — he should be whining and pacing by now. But, Bill thought, the meat was tender, and he was ravenous.
He spooned a large portion into his bowl and dug straight in. His lips and tongue blistered with the heat as he ate, but he didn’t care. It tasted too good. He continued eating, spoon after spoon, topping up from the pot and shovelling it into his mouth as though in a trance. He mopped up every last drop with bread.
“Sorry, lad,” he said, turning to Jasper as he realised what he’d done. “There’s just biscuits left for you tonight.” Bill’s eyelids drooped, and even speech was an effort. It felt as though his face was disconnected from the rest of his body, and the room swam. Stumbling to his bed, like a drunkard, he sprawled flat out on the mattress fully clothed. “Must be coming down with something,” he
