“Interesting name, Jackrabbit Road.” said Jim, as he and Pauline walked toward the covered bridge over Stone Creek. “Is it because of all the twists?”
“Don’t know, but I bet Gramps Paul does. He knows everything about this town, even about how old Jack Keeley got half-eaten by a demon on the bridge in ’31.
“Demon? Are you serious? More likely he was killed by a cougar, just like that tourist last week. Moonshiners and their delusions are the only legends around here. That old coot must be senile if he believes in monsters .”
“You’re an outsider, Jim. Go see the bridge on your own if you want. I’m going home while it’s still light. By the way, Old Paul’s as sharp as you or me. Just consider yourself warned.”
“Dumb yokels,” muttered Jim as Pauline stomped away. He’d put an end to this nonsense. It was near midnight when he reached the halfway mark in the covered bridge.
Thump.
“Pauline, that you?”
Thump. Thump.
“Ok, nice joke.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Jim looked toward the noise. A pair of small eyes glowed in the distance, low to the ground.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Was that his heart beating?
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
A small grey rabbit hopped up to him, ears twitching. Jim burst out laughing. The short-lived relief vanished as the rabbit leaped for his throat. No one heard his screams as the demon’s teeth clamped down.
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