The Dystopiaville Omnibus: A Dystopian Sci-Fi Horror Collection by Mark Gillespie

The Dystopiaville Omnibus: A Dystopian Sci-Fi Horror Collection by Mark Gillespie

Author:Mark Gillespie [Gillespie, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-05-23T22:00:00+00:00


Chapter 4

Jack ran down Main Street as fast as he could.

He looked over his shoulder only once, making sure that the thing wasn’t chasing after him. But the Snowman hadn’t moved. It was still there, hovering like a strange deity in the Octagon.

Even from a distance, Jack could feel those two black eyes burning a hole through his head.

He kept to the middle of the road. If he strayed too close to the buildings and shop fronts then something was liable to reach out its long fuzzy arms, grab Jack and drag him inside towards a fate worse than death. There could be hundreds of Snowmen watching and waiting on the sidelines. Jack wasn’t going to take any chances.

He ran harder. His lungs were on fire. There was a frantic, choking noise coming out of his mouth, like something was stuck in his windpipe and slowly killing him. It wasn’t long before his arms and legs got heavy and he began to slow down.

Jack looked for somewhere to hide. He was approaching a large, beautiful old building with Greek style columns at the front, which from a distance at least, made it look like an old temple. It was in fact, the Alexandra Falls Post Office. Without a second thought, Jack ran up the short stone staircase that led to the front door. Fortunately the door was lying wide open.

Jack raced inside and staggered forward for a few paces before collapsing onto the carpet.

He didn’t move for about a minute after that. Jack’s face was buried deep in his hands. He didn’t want to see anything. He also tried to close his mind – blocking out all the instinct that urged him to start thinking, to try and make sense of what had just happened.

But everything else could wait. For now, all Jack could do was listen to the high-pitched wheezing sound of his body grasping for oxygen.

Eventually he flipped himself over so that he was lying on his back. He lifted his head off the floor and took a look around.

The post office was busy for such an early hour. There was a small queue at each one of the three service desks – the first customers of the day most likely. Now they were going to be trapped in those lines, forever waiting to be served.

Bummer.

Jack propped himself up so that he was leaning on his elbows. He was entranced by the faces of the people working behind the desk: two middle – aged women and a younger man – the polite, yet guarded smiles they pointed at the customers while trapped in mid-conversation. It was such a mundane yet fascinating thing, particularly the sadness in their eyes. Or maybe Jack was just imagining that part.

He looked behind him.

There were several wooden tables at the back of the large room, close to a row of shelves containing a vast array of stationery items – pens, pencils, notebooks and envelopes of all sizes.

Jack had an idea. He got up, walked over to a table and flopped down on the bench.



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