THE GAUNT MAN

🔵💥 By James Kelley. Photo by lauragrafie.

The November night was cold outside. The wind howled like a relentless banshee. Robert Harper sat at his dining room table smoking a cigarette as he drank a shot of whiskey. He couldn’t sleep. Amelia, his wife is sound asleep down the hall in the master bedroom of the small two bedroom house they own. He laid awake for an hour after they made love. Although they are still young, early forties, due to stresses such as work and bills; their sex life has waned in the last few years.
His factory job pays okay, once they finish paying off the land they will be better off financially. The log stove crackles as a log shifts in the stove, he glances over at the wood bin. Might as well refill the wood bin while he is up and alone. The clock on the wall shows 2:59 am. Robert stands putting his coat he goes to the top drawer of their kitchen. A catch all drawer but, organized he grabs the flashlight and heads for the front door. He unbolts the security chain. As Robert opens the door he is greeted with snowflakes swirling about him. He quickly closes the door shivering as the cold night air cuts into him like a knife. He won’t be long though a quick walk around the corner of the house to the wood pile; he has put against the side of the shed. As he rounds the corner of the house he turns on the flashlight, he has yet to install an outside light to the shed. The flashlight illuminates the wood pile and the shed. The door is open. That’s not right, the door should be closed, he closed it after he changed the oil to the tractor. He had bought the tractor four years ago new. He approaches the door cautiously. He glances sideways at the wood pile. Leaning against the wood pile is his double headed axe. Robert reaches for it in case he is interrupting a burglar in his shed. He quickly realizes he can’t use a two-handed weapon one-handed. Robert puts the flashlight in his mouth and grasps the axe in both hands. The flashlight’s beam lights the door to the shed. Robert sees no sign of forced entry. The door is simply unlocked though he had locked it after working on his tractor. He sweeps the perimeter with the light.

Robert sees no tracks in the snow. No sign anyone was here. He inches forward axe poised to defend himself. Looking in the tractor dominates the floor space. The work bench to the left still has his tool box. Nothing appears to be amiss. Branches outside startle him! He turns to face the entrance, he is too slow. What appeared to be some sort of wolf like creature slammed its front paws into his chest. Knocking him down the flashlight falls out of his mouth. He brings the axes handle to bare just in time as the creatures jaws clamp down on the handle. The flashlight sheds enough light, Robert can see the creatures head was completely devoid of muscle, skin or eyes. The horrid beast had a skeletal skull and still alive! Robert can’t believe what he is seeing. The monster shakes its head viciously trying to rip the axe from his hands. Robert is on his back as the creature tried to rake his stomach with its hind legs, to disembowel him. So busy with the creatures jaws, Robert failed to see the real danger posed by this unnatural creature. A segmented tail longer than its body and rope like red in color. The tip of its tail bulbous as it lashes out slamming into Roberts right shoulder. A sharp pain registers as he quickly looks at the tails tip. Hidden in the bulbous fleshy tip a black stinger like a scorpions! A burning sensation filled his shoulder. Venom! As the hellish creatures tail pumped his body full of its unknown venom. He strained to reach for its tail as he held the axe handle. Robert’s breathing became labored, some sort of venom that effects cardiac muscles.

He grabbed the monsters tail and pulled it free from his shoulder. Its black length glistened with Roberts blood. The nightmarish creature bit into his forearm. Its teeth sank into his flesh. Robert felt his strength ebbing. The monster wrenched its tail from his grasp. As it whipped around it lashed forward. Robert gasped, a mist of blood and spittle escaped his mouth. Its stinger piercing his chest. As darkness swam at the edge of his vision, the creatures skeletal skull filled his vision. Roberts final thoughts were of his wife sound asleep in their bedroom. His love for her and how he wished he was a better man to her. The creature bit into his neck. Robert knew no more.

Amelia awoke to a loud crash from the living room. She groggily got up and fumbled for her robe. Slipping it on over her night gown to give her added warmth. She went to the door, opening it she could see dimly by the light the wood stoves flames gave off. She saw Roberts profile and a chair he stumbled into. As she advanced she asked „Robert dear are you okay?“ He didn’t respond. She reached for him as he turned. She screamed in horror of what she saw. In the middle of his chest a fist sized gaping wound. Roberts face was unrecognizable. His skin was sloughing off as if melting. No skin or muscle remained on his lower jaw. His tongue hung out from below his jaw. His right eye socket was empty as if his eye was never there. As his left eye looked at her, his skeletal hand of his right arm came up to reach for her. She reeled back in terror bumping into a chair from the table she quickly put it between her and the shambling creature that took over her husbands body. Roberts animated corpse fell over the chair. It lifted Roberts left hand. Their wedding bands caught the light of the wood stove’s flames. Tears welled in Amelia’s eyes as she reached for a log from the wood bin. With a scream of pain, anguish and heartache for her love she brought the log down with all the force her tiny frame could muster.

A sickening wet crack echoed through the small house. Blood and worse splattered on her face and robe. Still it reached for her, its jaws right side detached hanging by a scrap of skin. She brought the log up over her head and swung. Roberts corpse stilled. Panting from fear and exertion Amelia crawled to the phone on the end table. Something painful slammed into her back forcing her to the floor. She coughed. Blood? She felt warm liquid dripping on her hands. Amelia looked down, she saw a long pointed object coming out of her chest. Bone splinters protruded from the wound. She collapsed on the floor in the pool of her own blood. Weakly she reached out for the phone’s cord. Her hands stilled inches away from it. Darkness took her.

The Gaunt Man stepped into the house, his summoned creature went into. He allowed the whip-tail death hound more freedom than his other summoned creatures. Being centuries „undead“ he still remembers his mortal life. The whip-tail death hound is the closest thing to a dog he had. Living creatures cower instinctively from unnatural creatures such as himself. The death hound is even better than any mortal dog as a summoned creature the spell imparts a bit of his psyche with each casting. This allows Him „The Gaunt Man“ to sense anywhere on this plane his summoned creature is on. He could cast a more powerful version of it. Using a bit more material components and more time. Then the spell would encompass any plane of existence of pin point location. However, the Gaunt Man did not have the time.

His very existence hinged on this quick „hunt“. As he made his way to the fallen couples corpses, he mentally called the whip-tail death hound off the woman’s body. His own body constantly drips flesh from his bones. As the flesh sloughs off it quickly dries up then turns to dust. The necromancy that keeps him „alive“ as an undead creature will come undone if all his skin ever sloughs off his bones. He steps up to the whip-tail and puts a skeletal left hand on the creatures head. Mentally sending a „good boy“ the death hound looks up at him with empty eye sockets. The Gaunt Man’s skeletal feet are only feet away from the couple. He begins to cast his spell as his right eye looks down at his target as his left eye socket swirls with green most. His skull bare of flesh except for his lower jaw. The Gaunt Man’s skin starts to quiver as he reaches out his left arm. The fallen man’s flesh begins to quiver and slough off like melting butter. The fleshy slugs wiggle and squirm towards the Gaunt Man. As the first flesh slug reaches the bone of his big toe it immediately forms healthy muscle tissue and flows up the Gaunt Man’s leg. He leans down and turns the body on its side. The man’s left eye begins to shrivel as the Gaunt Man’s own begins to swell and fill the void of his eye socket. Skin begins to knit itself together on his face. In seconds the man’s corpse is but clothes covered skeleton. Suddenly the woman’s hand reaches out weakly. She’s not dead, not yet. She looks up at him. His newly formed face smiles weakly at her. Soon she will expire from the whip-tail death hounds venom and the mortal wound in her chest from its powerful tail stinger. His spell can’t target a living creature. He can wait now in her final moments.

She tries to speak to voice the question, her mouth gaps like a fish out of water. He stares at her and gives voice to the silent question. „For me to continue to live some humans must die. It can’t be from anything else but my doing. I prefer a summoning spell as the creatures mere presence inspires fear boosting one’s will to live. The energy your life force gives off will feed my body for some time.“
A few more moments. „I’m truly sorry but, I want to live so you must die this night.“ He holds her gaze as her eyes fill with tears accepting the inevitable truth. The breaths out her last breath. He begins to once again cast his spell. Her skin sloughs off melding into his. Fully rejuvenated he stands. A quick gesture and a small fire spell removes the skeletons clothes. An incantation and pouring a fragment of his psyche in the raise skeletons spell. Binding the skeletons to his will. They shuffle in front of him. The Gaunt Man looks at the whip-tail death hound out of habit more than anything else. Human habits are hard to break. He says one word „Seek„. The whip-tail death hounds mental connection with the Gaunt Man gives it its quarry. The death hound sniffs the air and ground. The scent death hounds pick up isn’t a bodily scent, but the scent of one’s soul. The whip-tail walks forward, he follows as his skeletal guard moves to follow the whip-tail. It won’t be long, it will track down the wizard that got away from the Gaunt Man. The final explosive spell that allowed the wizard to escape will be neutralized this time he is prepared for the wizard’s tricks. His skeletal minions shamble in front of their creator. Summoning his ancient staff from its extra dimensional space. He warps time and space as they travel. „I’m coming for you brother.“


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