What's In The Shed

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Something was in the shed.

We heard a noise coming out of our garden last night. My wife didn’t want me to go out to investigate in the dark. So we waited.

After the kids left for school, I went out there with a rifle and our bulldog, Bruno. He was small but fierce and protective of us. I felt better having him come with me.

Inside the shed, the air smelled nasty, mixed between rotten cabbages and spoiled eggs.

Bruno made a whining sound before running away. I tried to find a light switch when someone approached me fast. I looked up and screamed.

It was my brother, Jason who died in Afghanistan 5 years ago. He didn’t look human anymore with half his face gone and a rotten flesh hanging off his body.

“Hello, brother. Long time no see.” his inhuman voice was the last thing I heard.

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