“Gophers I’d think”

My neighbor chided

Eyeing my unkempt yard

And the few scattered holes

I nodded distantly

Feeding a measuring tape

Down a particularly large hole

Five feet straight down already

Then a resistance

The end of the tunnel

I rewound the spool

Shining my light down the burrow

No branching paths

Just a straight shaft

Directly down

“Don’t they make

I don’t know

Like,

Whole systems of tunnels?”

My neighbor peaked over my shoulder

“Suppose they do

But what the hell else could it be?”

That night I lay alone

My curtain drawn

And moon half illuminating my room

I rolled the sight of those holes in my head

What could it be?

What would make such holes?

And why only my yard?

The moonlight dimmed and I glanced at the window

Something thin

And spindly brushed past the house

I leapt from my bed

Already at the window

Thin

Almost like a sapling

But with arms

And hands

Slowly it straightened

Narrowing further

Until only a central beam stood

Sinking slowly into my yard

The head came into view

Speakers

Like on a megaphone

Or

A weather siren?

It did not sound though

It only sat

And waited

I watched it for hours

Until at nearly four AM

It rose

And stretching its limbs

Walked from my lawn

Soundless as the night

Today’s Creeptober was inspired by both the prompt word Holes and a cryptid by the immensely talented Trevor Henderson, slimyswampghost on Twitter. The image featured is a piece of art by them featuring this cryptid.