The Goat Man Novels & Stories

It hunched low to the surface waiting for its time to pounce. The large man hurled a gazelle on the pile of others in the wagon. The two other men with him were peasants. All the critters they were drying and readying were victims of the man's skills. He was a powerful man whose sport was a way of distracting his restless spirit. Drinking the animal's blood for its amusement.

His surrounding embers cracked and behind the spirit, the goat head remains with twisty horns also embodied and stood above the altar, like a young adult, a manlike quadruped with a goat head, hooves, and claw-like hands. “A spirit of harvest, Ditiori, a name substantiated from the meaning ‘make them grow’, is on oath that he will live like a mortal bestowed with conjuring powers and on his death become a spirit again to go home to the spirit world of Mundu. Therefore, never shall a wicked, a fallen, enter its rest.”

I couldn’t even count how many were stacked there. Since the man wore no shirt, his grotesque body was exposed. His arms had been split in the middle so a massive hole was formed from his armpits to his wrists. His torso looked like it was floating above his waist, connected by a tiny stomach and thick tendrils of skin. His spine was lined with thick, black spikes that curved inwards and grew smaller as they descended to his waist. The man wore black longs that covered his legs but left his goat-like hooves exposed.

’ I’ve never been much of a runner, but I’ve realized it helps clear my mind and gives me a new way to relieve pressure. Slowing to a walk, I round a corner and suddenly find a goat standing on the path in front of me. I stop and take out my earbuds, leaning forward to look at the animal. “Where did you come from?” The goat just stares back at me, cocking its head slightly. “Come on! Let’s go!” I hear a man’s voice from the shrubs. A man in safari-style clothes appears, leading four goats on leashes. “Come on, goaties.” He flashes me a friendly smile. “Thanks for the opportunity.”

I'm wearing an army Green woolen jumper and a blue jean and a pair of army Green Nikes 270. I walk out of the bathroom... Jones and Reign is sitting on the sofa discussing the brief "Smith ready to be my muse?" Jones has a sick grin on his face I scoff "What do I have to do?" I ask. I don’t trust the man. "Pose for the camera" he winks at me "Where?" I ask "We have intel that Massimo’s right hand man Goat will be at the park later to handle a deal personally..." he tells me "Goat? Really of all the damn names he chose Goat?" I pull a face.

"Guests from the mortal realm pray for aid against a threat to all existence. Will our glade share its insights?" Silence. Then, movement between the seated masses - two figures emerged shrouded in purple fog that clung like fur. The larger one threw back its hood, revealing - A goat's snarling visage split by jaws gaping far too wide. Fanged tongues flickered as they surveyed us hungrily. Its eyes blazed with a violet radioactive sheen all too familiar... A challenge rang out in a guttural tongue that reeked of malice. Our presence had not been welcome it seemed. What challenges would we now face to learn the anchor of this nightmare?

The man, consumed by rage, sprinted towards Jacob, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Come on!” Jacob roared. The man dashed towards Jacob with all the speed he gained, and then halfway through his course, the mound he stepped on suddenly collapsed and brought him down together with the leaves. The man wailed in agony. Jacob went over to him and dropped his gaze at the man. Bamboos tore through his body and blood came out from his gaping wound. Jacob crouched and reached down for the man's tactical army knife and holster which he wraps around his waist.

He yelled, making the rest of his crew lying around to yell at the boss for making such a loud noise while they were all slowly passing out, making him laugh at them. "Okay moving on.." He whispered looking at me from beneath his lashes flashing me his playful toothy grin. He moved the ones he had talked about to the left exposing beneath his wrist, that was when I saw something that caught my attention. There was a certain goat head sign that people thought were the anti Christ, people who worshiped satan.

Their vice grip on my arms made me wince. "I said, leave me! Let go!" But they only tightened their holds. "A feisty one, I like that." The man with the shiny bald appeared behind Zion. A sinister smile tugged up his lips. "What's the plan now, Zion? The goat has come to us to be sacrificed by itself." A shiver of dread ran down my spine. "I know what to do with her," Zion replied, before he took a hold of my forearm and dragged me after him.