Fjordur #23 (Patreon)

In the creek behind our house I found a hatchet half-buried in the mud.

Back home I asked Mom if she thought it was Dad’s.

“Lord knows,” she said. “Maybe it belongs to the woman without a face. Maybe she uses it to cut up her victims.”

I started sleeping with a flashlight by the bed.

A few days later I went back to the creek but couldn’t find the hatchet.

Late that night my bedroom door creaked open and I shone the light on Mom.

It must have been a trick of the light. She didn’t have a face.

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