by Andrew Anderson

Evie always walked alone in the twilight woods.

She would walk the trails, litter-picking and marvelling at the sounds of the evening. This was an ancient place, one she cared for, which in turn respected her wish for solitude.

Not tonight, though.

It had allowed someone else into her private domain—a man waited ahead in the clearing. She stepped forward to confront him when her foot caught an oak root.

It bought Evie enough time to see the silver flash of a knife in the half-light, and for the forest floor to open, swallowing the man into its soil.

Andrew Anderson

Andrew Anderson (he/him) is a writer of fiction from Bathgate, Scotland. His work has previously been published by National Flash Fiction Day Press, Sampson Low Ltd., Selcouth Station Press, The Drabble, Black Hare Press, Eerie River Publishing, Paragraph Planet, Steering 23 Publications and Blood Song Books.