Hungry Eyes

By Katie McCall

Electricity cables stretch across the belly of the valley like old skin, crackling and hissing above our heads in the fading daylight. From up high, the last of the spring thaw drips down. 

You are here again on my part of the hillside, watching the sun drop behind the jagged peaks as if it’s the grand finale of a stage show, awaiting the final curtain. Your face is alight with the golden glow. Gathering your paint palette and expensive, artisan brushes together, you prepare to match the sky’s last blaze of colour on your canvas. Dabbing, mixing, brushing your cares away. You are high-brow and creative, my favourite flavour. From my dark burrow, I watch you for a while, hunched over your easel. Your brow furrows in concentration and my stomach rumbles at the sight of you. For a moment, you look up from your silly little painting and pause, cocking your head to one side. Perhaps you heard the quiet crunch of bones as I shifted my weight from one side to the other; the remnants of others who dawdled on to my patch of the hillside at sundown, their warm meat gnawed down to splintered matter. The daylight dwindles, the shadows steal towards you. Soon, I will, too.

Before darkness falls, you dash my hopes by packing your painting utensils into your bag before retreating out of sight along the path. Awash with disappointment, my eyes trace your silhouette, disappearing down the slope, back towards the hot, clamorous stink of the village. I must remain here in the gloom awhile longer, with only my hunger for company.

Katie McCall is a writer of uncanny, gothic fiction. Her short stories have been published in Supernatural Tales, Ghostlight and longlisted in the Words Magazine short story competition. Her first novel is out on submission, and she has just finished writing her second novel, a folk horror tale set in northern England. For further spooky musings, follow her on Instagram/ Threads @katiemccall_author