Here we go, an image prompt this time. Let’s say…. 500 words?

Let’s do it!! (Just remember these are unrevised, unedited, typed right into the “post blog” window, so I apologize for any typos or…. Bad writing. 🙂  )

 

“Why didn’t you just bag it and trash it?” Sunshine asked.

“I can’t believe you touched that thing,” Mears said.

“Go eat a donut,” said Travis dismissively. “What about you Rea? You think some kid pulling a prank? You think we’re gonna end up on YouTube?” He started turning around, waving at the bushes. He was popular with kids at the schools he visited and only marginally more popular with the moms. They called him Officer Trav.

Sunshine gave a noncommittal snort. The body looked like any mummy. Hollow cheeks, stretched, dry skin, and a ribcage visible through the thin leather that was once living flesh. Its mouth was open in a twisted grimace with jagged teeth. Its eyes were the worst – one eye open, one eye half closed, with only a thin rubbery flap of dried skin covering the hole where there must have been an eye once. A patch of hair hung long across the exposed, perfect ear.

“Yeah,” Sunshine said. “I’ll wrap up here. I bet if we move it and threaten to destroy it, the owners will turn up real quick.”

Officer Trav nodded and started back toward his car. “See ya guys. Hey Sunshine, if things don’t go work out with what’s-his-face, you’ve got my number!”

“Yeah,” she called. “I’ve got your badge number. Mears, you can head out. See you at the office.”

A white smile appeared under a grey mustache. “I’ll buy lunch. You gonna go tinkle in the woods?”

“Wouldn’t tell you if I was.”

Mears chuckled and vanished down the trail.

Sunshine flattened herself onto her belly for a closer look. The mummy was only about six inches long, and perfect. Tiny wings were barely distinguishable from the leaf litter beneath. She didn’t dare touch it, just thinking about touching it made her sick. After a wave of nausea passed, she pulled a glove from her back pocket and snapped it on. A soft breeze ruffled her short hair and disturbed the hair on the little dry head.

A soft voice whispered, “Go ahead. Pick him up.”

Sunshine looked around. There was no one there. “I’m not adding this to my list of mental issues. Come on out.”

“What do you think it is?” the voice asked. “Who do you think he was?”

Sunshine felt something brush her neck and she bolted up, slapped at it, catching her own hair. Her breath came in slowly- too slowly and she felt lightheaded. She batted at the thing that brushed her neck again. The air wasn’t reaching her lungs anymore and something pricked her skin. It kept poking at her numb, detached skin like bee stings and she flailed her arms to fight back. Leaves flew around her face and she realized, too late, that they weren’t leaves at all. They were wings. The blurred shape of a naked woman with red hair darted across her narrowing field of vision. Before everything went black, the tiny voice whispered one last promise.

“He’s coming.”

 

 

 

Here’s the image: