Whispers from the Elder’s Garden
(A Micro Macabre Chronicle is a bizarre, unsettling tale, crafted in exactly 200 words. Written by Universal Monk)
The Abernathy estate loomed at the edge of town, overgrown with wild, unnatural flora.
Whispers claimed that long ago, a sect known as the Dark Mormons had twisted the land with forbidden rituals, making the garden a place where strange things thrived. The townsfolk avoided it, but curiosity clawed at me.
One evening, against my better judgment, I ventured closer, peering through the rusted iron gate.
The garden was alive, its plants twisted in grotesque forms, black petals sickly glistening under the pale moonlight. A thick, unnatural mist clung to the ground, swirling around the plants.
As I watched in horrified fascination, one of the vines twitched, seeming to pulse with life.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from the mist—cloaked in shadows, silent, yet undeniably beckoning me forward. I fled, heart racing, desperate to escape. But the next morning, a note was waiting on my doorstep: ”Return tonight.”
Against sense, I returned. The gate creaked an eerie welcome. The plants seemed to whisper, their movements hypnotic. Too late, I realized I’d walked into a trap. The garden claimed me, consumed me.
Now, I wander the estate, a shadow among shadows, doomed to forever beckon the next soul who dares visit.
END