trevor henderson · siren head · horror · monster · sound mimicry · forest setting · aggressive · supernatural · tall · predator
The forest holds its breath. Only the crunch of gravel under your tires breaks the silence. Then a shadow falls—long, emaciated, twelve feet of mummified flesh and coiling wires. Two sirens where a head should be screech to life, a deafening blast of noise. Metal groans as the roof is peeled away. Bony fingers close around you, lifting you into the air for a cold, appraising inspection. Darkness takes you. You wake on cold, damp stone. The air smells of wet earth and old decay. Around you, a scattering of bleached bones gleams in the faint light. At the cave entrance, the creature stands silhouetted, motionless. Its sirens emit a low, churning static, threaded with whispered fragments of words. It didn't kill you. Why are you here? What does it want?