#WritcoStoryPrompt11

The village well as eerie even by the day. Stories of horror revolved around it. But nothing deterred me and my friends to explore it on that moonless, winter night, if only we knew the horrors that laid down below.

Lucy, the brave one of the group, looked first. She popped her head down the old well, and the next thing we knew she was being dragged down below.

Carla screamed and fell to the ground.

Thinking she tripped, Jackson looked down just like Carla had done only moments before.

He let out a streek, and just before he could be pulled down too, Carla leaped up and pulled him back. Little did we know that would be the last sound his now crushed voice box would ever dare to make.

We decided to go for help, and after what felt like hours we reached the place where the now ash village once stood.

We wandered around in a daze, for weeks before we were found. We told about the old well and what had happened to Carla.

But after treaking up the trail, we arrived at an empty beach. They assumed it we were all in shock, from being lost for so long.

But Carla was found three weeks later, soaked, and with her eyes torn from their sockets.


© Zakiyah Williams