The Flaming Corpse

• Cooper Morris, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2021

The ground shook, rocks flew in every direction! The gravel trembled, as if it was about to give way. The shaking got harder and harder! A small car, just taller than a grown man, sped around the corner! As the car sped up, a shadow in the car was struggling around in the seat. Fumbling with their seatbelt, obviously jammed. At the moment the person undid their seatbelt, another truck came roaring up the path. The person in the car stared, horrified at what they saw. The person leaped out of the car. Suddenly blanketed by the headlights of the truck. It was a woman with short blonde hair. She was small and chubby. Her eyes were deep blue, growing wider and wider as the car approached. The shadow in the other car sped up at the sight of the woman. She turned and ran. The truck, unsurprisingly caught up after a couple of seconds. She turned and stopped, looked into the face of a man. It was a man driving the truck. But something wasn’t right. Suddenly his eyes grew small and black, his mouth got wider. His teeth were yellow with small flecks of red! His whole head glowed red, like flame! Then just like it appeared, it was gone. The woman, snapped from her trance. She looked up and opened her mouth. No sound came out. This was the last thing she ever did.
The truck lights turned off and the truck itself stopped. The heavy, white driver’s door opened. For at least twenty seconds, nothing came out. Then, a dark figure shot out of the large vehicle, towards the woman’s mangled body lay. The figure slowed to a stop in front of her, a dark cloud of black and purple floated behind it. The figure looked like a pure shadow to the dying woman, it looked like it was slightly shimmering. A disfigured, grey hand crept out of the darkness cloaking the person. A whispered, raspy voice, so near the dying woman’s head it felt like it was inside her, told her something. “Don’t move, it’ll only make it much, much more painful than it already has to be.” The woman froze at the spine-chilling words.
The hand went through the woman’s throat, ripping the inside of her neck open. The woman howled in pain, no one heard her. She was somehow still alive! As the hand came out, it sparked a flame on the skin of the crying woman’s neck. The fire spread, engulfing her until she was unrecognisable. Blood seeped from the wound, out and onto the street. The woman died seconds after the fire touched her feet. Her body, burning, split apart. The person looked down at her and shook his head. This woman had been at the wrong place at the wrong time. The man disappeared into the night. The fire crawling high. The smoke forming the words ‘The gates of hell are opened.’