I’ve decided to start writing one minute horror stories on Fridays! I read that the average person can read 260 words of fiction a minute, so all of these stories will be 260 words or less. Enjoy and have a great weekend!
We shouldn’t have left the trail. That fact drilled into my head as Dean and I bushwacked our way through the dense greenery of the rainforest. As I swatted bugs from my eyes, I cursed myself for chasing the brightly-colored bird I’d seen a few minutes before because I’d wanted a picture for my Insta.
“We’re lost, Chelsea,” Dean said, his voice taut.
My stomach dropped. What if we never found the trail? I’d been warned of the
dangers of the jungle. Not just animals or poisonous plants, but darker things.
Curses. Black magic.
I yipped in relief when I saw trail. “There!” Just like that, the mishap
turned from a tale of terror to a hilarious anecdote. When I reached the path, a
bullet-like missile struck my neck. I touched the wound, my fingers coming back
bloody.
Dean sprinted over. “What happened?”
“I think someone shot me!”
“No, you were bit.” Dean picked a brilliant orange insect from my neck. It
looked as vivid as the bird I’d been chasing, but I brushed it away in disgust.
My life-long fascination with the rainforest was over.
Back at the Vrbo, Dean showered while I dropped onto the bed, exhausted. My
neck throbbed from the sting which had welted to the size of a golf ball, but I
was too tired to care.
Dean shook me awake. “Chelsea!” His eyes were wide with alarm.
My neck ached. Blood drenched my left side. Worst, however, were the
thousands of orange insects coursing down my body.
“Eggs,” Dean moaned. “It laid eggs.”
