Story Of A Six Finger Man

It was the first day of kindergarten. I was swinging, lifting my legs as high as I could and squeezing them against me on the way down. I wanted to outdo Beckham. He was a showoff. I was inches away from him, in the air, tail waving, staring up at the sky. As the swing swung back, my gaze fell on the trees surrounding the playground. I saw a six-fingered man.

I was excited to see him there; he usually wasn't far from my house, but he came to my school. Maybe because my mom was so rude to him last week. I drew him in a field of flowers and wanted to show him, but my mom wouldn't let me go outside. Instead, I taped it to my window.

On my way back, I waved at him.

He didn't move. He never did that. All I could see were his hands folded carelessly at his waist. He always stayed in the shade; I think he's allergic to the sun. A couple of weeks later, a police officer came to our school. He talked about strangers. I thought about the six-fingered man. I didn't know his name, but I knew him, right? I bit my lip and thought about it for a moment. In the end, I came to the conclusion that I just needed to learn his name.

The day my mother drove me home, I pressed my hands against the car window to inspect the woods next to my neighbors' house. He was there. I smiled.

When my mother parked the car, I jumped out of the back seat and ran toward him.

He was standing, as always, under the shade of the oak trees. My mother called my name, but I'll deal with that later. She'll see how good he is and understand. But as I got closer, I noticed that, although I couldn't see his face, his eyes reflected the sunlight. Thoughtful.

I slowed down a little. About three meters away from me, I could see him moving. Jerking all around. I froze. "Hello?" I said timidly.

His body, which had been ticking, began to move, growing taller and thinner. The sixth finger on his left hand lengthened, turning into a claw. I turned to run, toward my mother's distraught face, but the claw wrapped around my stomach and dragged me back into the woods.

"Hello," a wet, guttural voice said in my ear.

Read More