​As she locked the door to her car and approached the bus stop, Meg recognized the faded black steel frame wrapping the space on three sides, and she knew what she’d find plastered to the scratched and filth-smeared plexiglass bolted in behind the squat metal bench: a Led Zeppelin poster, circa 1975, bleached from the sun and peeling away in strips, so that what looked like an angel—naked, male, enormous white wings extending from a grotesquely muscled body—appeared to be reaching his arms to a torn and hellish heaven.

NYC Midnight Short Story Contest
Assignment: 1,000 Words
Genre: Horror
Location: A clearing in a forest
Object: A footstool

​This story isn’t long, and you won’t learn any lessons from it. It’s simply what happened to me. Take it or not, believe it or don’t; either way, I’m never getting out of here, and the only thing left to me are my words. I sincerely hope that you, whoever you are, burn these pages once you’ve read them, because the only way to end it is to destroy any trace of it.