“I’m not sure Billy. Something about this place don’t feel right.”
“It’ll be fine Jimmy. A quick coffee, a stretch of our legs and we’ll be on our way.”
As we walked in the locals stopped and turned to stare at us.
“What did I tell you Jimmy. This looks like a real friendly place.”
I looked at him in horror. Was I the only one who could see their bloodied mouths wide open, showing rows of very dirty and very sharp teeth? Their mottled green eyes, hovering some good foot or so above their heads, following our every move.
A 100 word story for this week’s prompt from Friday Fictioneers.