Tia Lea


Young writer, gardener and professional loner

Message from Writer

Critism is welcomed. I strive to improve my writing skills in any way possible so reviews are defiantly appreciated!

The Creature

September 3, 2015


Grey skies
Black roads
Rain falls
Doors lock
There’s an old legend here in RiverView, of a creature that paces these cold, dark streets. Stalking the pavements. Each footstep sounding as if the sidewalk was cracking under its weight. Claims of hearing its devastating growls that echo through alleys are whispered around local bars. Mothers gathering up their children from playing outside in the afternoon when the sun begins setting. Then, it arrives. You can hear a vicious snarl from the main road into this small town, followed by everyone locking their doors in unison, as if the creature made this dreadful sound as a warning. Every night the moon is not present, you can feel the cold, spine shivering aurora this being gives off. No one in RiverView has actually seen this ‘monster’ up close, just seen the black mass standing surrounded by fog. Although this did not stop the avid artists in Riverview from portraying it with talons, horns, a snarl, and generally looking like a demon from the depths of hell. You may be thinking why the town fears this hostile creature if there has been so real evidence about its aggressive behavior, it could be ‘nice.’ The townspeople had thought of this yet with the dreadful scratches left on the cars of people who didn’t have a garage, or forgot to lock it up for the night. There were the streetlights, when morning finally broke after another night of terror, many could be found bent, lights blown out, smashed, and crumpled into a ball as if it were paper. Then there was the story of Georgia Dennis, The innocent, unknowing tourist who was wondering the dark, gloomy streets one night. The last sighting of Georgia was in one of the many boutiques along Cypress Street. The only evidence she were ever in town was her belongings in the local motel, and her handbag, seemingly tossed to the night in a moment of distress, found in the gutter… splattered in blood.
Every night it enters the town, it paces
Searching, waiting, for the next unknowing victim.


See History
  • September 3, 2015 - 5:05am (Now Viewing)

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