The Chalk Drawings is a short horror tale submitted by NightmareIn1080p. It tells the story of a little girl who does amazingly detailed art drawings in chalk.
â€œHowâ€™s it going down there?â€ I asked, looking down at the little brunette girl splayed out on the sidewalk.
Her chest rose and fell as a dramatic sigh passed her lips. â€œI canâ€™t find anything to draw,â€ she said. â€œItâ€™s been hours and nothing I think of works.â€
She turned her head in my direction, gazing up at me with her lower lip stuck out. I looked around at the many scrawled chalk shapes surrounding her. Then I looked up at the sky and studied a puffy white mass of clouds drifting on the wind.
â€œWell, maybe you could start by just looking around. There are lots of things that look good in a drawing,â€ I said.
She shook her head and looked away again. â€œNo, I already did. I drew it all.â€
â€œYou canâ€™t have drawn everything,” I said. “There are too things in the world. You couldn’t draw them all in one day.â€
I scanned the chalk drawings as the little girl sighed again and shifted in place. She turned back in my direction with her mouth open and prepared to say something, but froze halfway. I rocked back awkwardly on my heels.
Suddenly, she jerked upright and extended a hand toward the box full of chalk at her side. She slipped an untouched stick of red chalk out of the packet, then turned over and began drawing in the blank spot where she was lying down a moment before.
The stick of chalk in her hands flew back and forth over the concrete, curving in graceful arcs and shuddering from side to side to make scattered lines. The shapes melded together one by one to create an image of extraordinary detail for an artist so young. The girlâ€™s focus was unwavering. No matter how many times I tried talking to her, she would just brush it off with a curt grunt and keep sketching.
After just under a minute of nothing but the sound of chalk scraping the ground, she came out of her trance and rose to her feet. The scarlet chalk dust covered her small hands. She turned around and glanced at me with her bright blue eyes, now filled with tears. Weird.
I leaned over her shoulder to look at the drawing. The top of the figure was shaped like a human head. It was hairless with cold black eyes the size of dinner plates. Its back was hunched and its chest carved into a rough arc, the skin pulled tight enough to reveal the outline of a few ribs. Its arms were too long for its body and hung low by its feet, nails dragging on the ground. Beside it was the drawing of a dead man who had been dismembered.
I backed up a couple steps and my jaw dropped. â€œHow did you come up with this?â€ I breathed, marvelling at the grotesque details.
The girl stared up at me with tears spilling down her cheeks. Her finger was pointing in my direction. I frowned at her in confusion. Why would I remind her of a monster? But as I slowly turned and followed her finger with my eyes, I realized where she was really pointing…