“The Crayon”

Author’s Note: This is a Take Ten to Write story and has not been proofread for errors. If I feel inspired or if there’s interest in the story, I’ll post a revised, edited, and extended version at a later date. Happy reading!

Prompt: Crayon.

The crayon was back.

It wasn’t supposed to be. It had been all used up. Gone. Shredded to uselessness.

Yet somehow, there it was.

That horrible crayon.

It taunted me, messed with my mind. It made me do things.

Horrible things.

I couldn’t resist. I grabbed the crayon. The weight was perfect in my hand. Absolutely perfect.

Just like my last crayon.

My hand moved by itself. Long, confident strokes appeared on the wall in front of me. Lines formed a picture. A figure.

One I hoped I’d never see again.

The crayon slipped from my fingers. A dull thud resounded as it hit the floor.

A second thud rang out. A heavy footstep, followed by another.

He peeled himself from the wall. I stood before him, trembling and powerless.

He looked down at me for the slightest of moments. Then, he walked past me and disappeared out the door.

I sank to the floor. I’d done it again.

Yet another monster to add to my collection of mistakes.

Final Comments: I really didn’t know how to end this one.

Overall Rating: 🤨