Uninvited Guest

Written for Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative
Challenge #079. I chose Pic #4.

Mrs. Hathaway noticed it first, at half past six, when she drew back her curtains.

The concrete block sat at the Old Rectory’s gate like a big grumpy toad …. immovable, moss-flecked around its base as though it had always belonged there. Yet last evening, it was not there.

Constable Reddy circled it twice, notebook untouched. No tire tracks on the driveway. No witnesses along the lane. Burgh Castle slept soundly through the night, as it always did.

Then young Freddy Plimpton stepped forward and pressed his ear against the stone.

“It’s gurgling,” he whispered.

Nobody laughed.

Reverend Farrell stood behind the pillars and watched closely as the sexton brought out crowbars. Three men heaved the lid …. a grinding shriek of concrete on concrete …. and peered inside.

Empty …. except for the smell. Damp earth …. and something sickly sweet. Freddy took a step back, then another. Then he turned and ran like he’d seen the devil himself. Nobody asked why; they all just ran.

NAR©2026

This is “That Smell” by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Crimson’s Creative Challenge #079

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