The Six Fingered Man Story

It was the first day of kindergarten. I had been swinging, kicking my legs up as high as I could and curling them back towards me as I came down. I wanted to go higher than Beckham. He was a show off. I was inches from beating him, up in the air with my ponytail flying and my eyes towards the sky. As the swing jolted backwards, and my eyes hit the treeline surrounding the playground. I saw the six fingered man.

I was excited to see him there, usually he was just outside of my house, but he had come to see me at school. Maybe because my mom had been so rude to him last week. I had drawn a picture of him in a field of flowers and I wanted to show him, but my mom wouldn't let me go outside. I taped it to my window instead.

On my way back up, I waved at him. He didn't move. He never did. All I could see were his hands, clasped casually over his waist. He always stood in the shade, I think he is allergic to the sun.

A couple weeks later, a police man came to our school. He was talking about strangers. I thought about the six fingered man. I didn't know his name, but I knew him, right? I stuck my lip out and pondered this for a minute. Eventually, I concluded that I would simply have to learn his name.

That day when my mom drove me home, I pressed my hands against the car window to check the wooded area next to my neighbors house. He was there. I grinned. When my mom parked the car, I jolted out of the back seat and ran towards him.

He stood, as always, still under the cover of oak trees. My mom screamed out my name, but I would just deal with getting in trouble later. She'd see how nice he was, and she'd understand. But as I got closer, I noticed that although I couldn't see his face, his eyes were catching the sun. Reflective. I slowed down a little. About ten feet away, I could see that he actually was moving. Twitching his whole body. I stopped in my tracks. "Hello?" I said shyly.

His ticking body started to move, growing taller and thinner. The sixth finger on his left hand started growing longer, into a claw. I turned to run, heading towards my mother's stricken face, but the claw reached around my belly and pulled me back into the woods.

"Hello," said a wet, guttural voice in my ear.