“Remember.” I whispered, “We walk across the bridge, dead quiet, not a whisper. Got it? And no stopping for a quick peep over the edge. Remember what happened to Billy yesterday.”
We got to the middle before we heard the thing sniffing. It knew we were there. I grabbed young Sally and tossed her over the rails. Huge, hairy arms grabbed her mid-air and dragged her beneath the bridge. There was a cracking sound of bones snapping and her screaming stopped.
As we safely reached the other side I wondered who I’d have to sacrifice for the return trip.
A 100 word story for this week’s prompt at Friday Fictioneers.