by Esther Davis
Chunks of scoria cascaded from the rising form. The ground trembled. Mina’s szajo reared, and she flung her arms around one of its curled horns to keep from falling.
“Calm, boy. Calm!” Mina’s lips trembled as she whispered in the ram’s ear.
The szajo didn’t calm. It bayed, a guttural sound that reverberated through Mina’s frame…
Read the rest of “Where the Dead Walk” and other short stories in A Dog, 3 Cats, and a Dragon.
When I wrote “Where the Dead Walk” I figured it would make a good creepy sketch for October. Happy Halloween!