Midnight at Miller's Farm

Warning. Rural roads hide things that were never meant to be found.

My grandfather refused to drive past Miller's Farm after sunset. Said something watches from that abandoned

barn. Last winter, I learned why. Engine died right there at midnight.

Pitch black. Dead silence. Then I heard it. Footsteps circling my truck.

Slow. Deliberate. The smell hit next. Rotting meat and wet earth.

My breath fogged the windows as something scraped across the hood. Metal on metal.

I locked every door, hands shaking. The footsteps stopped at my driver's window. I could feel it

standing there. Breathing. Waiting. My phone was dead. No one for miles.