The Pigman

Custom User Avatar
More by this author

Oh, I wish I had listened. I wish I had listened to that crazy old man’s stories. I might still be alive if I had. He had spoken of the “Pigman” so often, and of course no one believed him. Who would believe some old coot that goes around telling everyone a Pigman attacked his daughters and “consumed” them? You wouldn’t, and neither did I. Everyone assumed he had murdered his daughters, but there was no proof, as their bodies were never found.
Every day on my way to work at our small town’s only gas station he would pass by me. He often sat by the third gas pump, and yelled to the people pumping gas about the Pigman. “He is coming! He is going to get you all!” he would say.
One day, a Wednesday I believe, I looked out the window and he was no longer there. This happened every once in a while, and he wouldn’t be gone for very long, but this time was different. Saturday came and he had not been seen by anyone. “Probably killed by the Pigman,” one of my co-workers said with a shocking amount of sarcasm.
Something about this statement made me uneasy. “What did happen to him?” I thought. I shouldn’t have cared; after all, he was just some crazy old man who hung out at a gas station. But there was a part of me that wanted to find this man and make sure he was all right.
I asked around and found out where his last known address was. It was a cottage no more than a mile away from the station. This was the place his daughters had died. I figured I could walk there. “I’ve walked marathons before, I can do it,” I said to myself as I left work that day.
Directly behind the station there was nothing but forest for miles. The man’s house was in the middle of these woods. I walked down the dirt road that led into the trees, and a cool breeze swept over me as I stepped into the forest. The dark green leaves of the trees swayed in the wind, almost as if they were whispering to each other. I walked for what felt like an eternity, but eventually I spotted a clearing not too far up ahead. The skies began growing darker, and I knew I would have to return soon, so I sped up my pace. I reached the clearing and saw a small wooden house all alone in the trees. In front of the house there was a rusty old pickup truck with every window smashed except for the rear windshield. As I slowly crept up to it, a crow flew out of the space where the windshield used to be. I peered in: the keys were still in the ignition, and blood splatter covered the driver’s seat. I should have turned back, as any sane person would, but I felt myself being pulled toward the house.
I stepped onto the front porch, and the rotting wood beneath my feet creaked. The door was half gone. I put an ear up to empty space that used to be the rest of the door and listened. Someone was inside the house. The faint sound of smacking and gargling echoed outside. The sky was almost completely dark now, with nothing but the full moon to light my surroundings. I moved what was left of the door and peered inside. What I saw was horrifying. It was the old man. The lower half of his body was strewn about the concrete floor, covered completely in blood. His upper body was so disfigured I almost couldn’t tell the remains were that of a human being. His right eyeball was gone, and his left hung out of his face. What used to be the man’s chest was ripped open, and something was crouched over it. This thing grabbed the man’s lungs and stuck them into his mouth. I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t understand what I was seeing. Tears began rushing down my cheeks, as I knew what was about to happen. I took a step back, but I ran into the bookcase by the door. The creature turned its head. He had seen me, and my heart sank into my gut as I realized there was nothing I could do. The horrendous creature stood up; he must have been more than eight feet tall. His body was mostly covered in scars, with his bones showing in multiple places. His head was that of a swine. “The Pigman. He’s real,” I thought. The Pigman flashed his teeth, covered in the man’s blood, at me. It was as if he were smiling. He ran toward me, but I was frozen in my place. The Pigman knocked me off the porch and jumped on top of me, holding my body to the ground. His growl pierced my eardrums. The Pigman’s fangs came toward my face and then… there was nothing. I wish I had listened to that crazy old man.






Post a Comment

Be the first to comment on this article!

bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback