MicroHorror

I don’t know why dogs love to chase cars so much, but I’ll tell you why I enjoy it. It’s because of the adrenalin rush, the way it gets your blood flowing like a raging river.

I’m considered a legend in these parts of rural Kentucky. An old folklore passed down from generation to generation like Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster. Everybody cringes and gets fearful at just the mention of my name: the Mayfield Man-Eater.

Take for an example this red Jeep Cherokee that’s parked on the side of the road. I can overhear the teenage girl ask, “Isn’t this the place where the Mayfield Man-Eater roams? Looking for tender flesh to sink his huge fangs into, and devour whomever he likes.”

My mouth waters at the thought. She knows my myth well.

The boy laughs. “Urban legend,” he chuckles. “That’s all. But I did hear that he and Bigfoot like to watch young couples have sex.”

Well, I can’t speak for Bigfoot, but he was right. I like to watch… and wait. For the right moment to make my move. Like right now. The windows are real fogged up, and the Jeep has stopped rocking back and forth. I break a branch. Snap!

“Did you hear that?” I hear the girl ask with terror in her shaking voice.

“It’s nothing,” the boy says, breathless. “Just the wind.”

Another branch. Another snap!

I hear the boy say, “Oh shit! Let’s get out of here!”

Then some commotion in the Jeep. The engine coming to life. Tires throwing bits of gravel into my face. The adrenalin starting to run through my veins like a runaway train.

Oh, I think as I start to give chase. How I love to chase cars.