The trail (standard:horror, 1240 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Nov 30 2011	Views/Reads: 2849/1774	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Should he follow the trail of clues left for him?

Looking out across the miles of ocean, Edmond Morgan breathed in the
fresh air and sighed aloud, stood atop one of many sand dunes at the 
rear of small beach. He smiled. It was nice to come here every so often 
and take in the view, away from his family, away from work. He somehow 
felt he needed to do this every so often, just to be free from 
civilisation. If he could stay here and never turn back then he would 
not mind as the place was virtually a second home to him. 

His wife had threatened him with divorce three times throughout the
year, saying she would take the children. He  didn't care, she could 
have them. Two overweight, idle sons he  could do without if they were 
to separate. He was happy here, but knew it couldn't last forever. 
Sometime he had to go back and face the rest of the world. 

Turning, he walked across to his bike and walked it across to the path
where he began to ride towards the town. On his way, he came to a 
crossroads with a signpost staked to the ground on one corner. There 
was something different about it this time. 

There was an envelope attached to the wood with his name on it.  He took
it off and opened it.  A small card was inside with a written message: 
'Follow the path to the right and find the stone with a cross'. That 
was all it said. Edmond frowned. What was this? he thought. Some sort 
of game? Oh, well, might as well do it, I'm in no hurry, he reasoned 
with himself. No need to re-enter the stressful society just yet. 

He got back onto his bike and rode along the narrow path. Both sides
were flanked with bramble and dead leaves with high bushes which 
protruded sharp twigs. He was careful to avoid these, yet kept an eye 
out for the stone. Eventually, he spotted a rock nestling amongst the 
leaves. It had a white cross painted on it.  He rode to a halt and 
stepped across, lifting it to the side. He saw there was an envelope 
underneath bearing his name. Upon opening it, it read: 'The nearest 
house to this point. Don't knock on the door, the milkman has been'.  
He smiled. This was some kind of game he didn't mind taking part in. 
One of his friends playing tricks on him. The thing was though, none of 
them knew he was out here, and none of them he guessed were the type of 
person who would do this. 

He wondered what the prize would be if he completed it, if there was a
prize, or maybe it was leading somewhere where he was wanted. 

He carried on riding along the path until he reached the end where it
joined a pavement. Houses lined both sides of the road and Edmond 
looked across to the nearest one. It was derelict and boarded up. He 
left his bike against a street-lamp and walked across to the rusty 
gate. The path was overgrown with weeds and he walked towards the red 
painted faded and flaking door. He looked around and found that on the 
step was a milk bottle. It had no milk inside, instead, there was a 
note. Picking it up, he read it through the glass: 'The nearest open 
place of leisure has a bush especially for roses, choose one'. 

Placing the bottle down, he turned and walked back along the path to his
bike. He figured out the quickest route to the park and made his way 
there within two minutes. 

Riding along many of the paths, he searched for a rose bush but could
not sees one After five minutes, he rode alongside a large pond and saw 
that behind a bench, was a white rose bush. 

Leaning the bike against the bench, he examined it and saw a card wedged
into the petals of one of the flowers. He picked it up and read it: 
'Your namesake has passed, don't pray when you pay your respects'. A 
cemetery, he thought, where was the nearest one around here? He 
realised that there was only one locally, and that was around the local 
church which was a few minutes ride away. 

It was empty in the small graveyeard. It seemed that no new graves had
been dug for years, and he doubted there were many mourners left to pay 
their respects to those that were here. 

It didn't take him long to find the next message, and when he did, he
wondered just what on earth was going on, and he seriously doubted 
whether or not he should continue, whether he should just get on his 
bike and ride as fast as he could in away from here. 


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