The Mountain Moved: A Short Story

The Mountain Moved: A Short Story

This was written as part of a weekly writing challenge on The Midnight Faith discord, which focusses on dark, spooky, creepy fiction. The prompt was: mountains. {274 words}


I sleep in the lap of the mountain. Turned on her side, she protects me. She provides food, shelter and affection. She loves me. No one can walk over the mountain except me; she won’t allow it. Before I came to the mountain, I was abandoned. I ate scraps and survived on the sparse charity of cruel men. I was scared, at first, when I arrived but she drew me close and kept me warm. 

The village on the other side of the mountain is afraid of me. They think I bewitch their men and lead them to their deaths but it’s her. One attacked me when I was out in her forest. She tore his skin from his flesh and his head from his body. I ran. I know she will never hurt me. I ran home. To the place where I am safe because of her and I always will be. 

They sent more men, to avenge their brother, to extract justice from me. She killed them all. She killed them because she loves me. Now they send everyone; all their women and their men. To kill the witch. To kill me. I can’t explain it wasn’t me; they will never listen, never believe. As long as the village sits in her shadow, I will never be safe. 

The mountain moved. She rolled over onto her other side and buried them all. The village is gone; destroyed. The people are all dead; crushed. She was careful of me; she rolled back and settled down around me once more. I know she will do anything for me and I will never leave her.

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