Barghest by Newton Webb
A Contemporary Creature Feature Short Story: Charlie and his mother, Heidi, stranded in a remote Cumbrian snowstorm, must fight for their lives.
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On a dark January night, Charlie and his mother, Heidi, are driving through the winding backroads of Cumbria, determined to make their annual ‘second Christmas’ at his grandparents’ cottage. Despite a severe government weather warning for the approaching Storm Goretti, Heidi, a fiercely stubborn woman with a love of 80s rock, is determined not to miss the family gathering.
As the storm begins to brew, she pulls over for a brief stop before the weather turns.
But they are not alone. Something hungry lives in the snow, and it has their scent.
Barghest
By Newton Webb
The Barghest
By Newton Webb
9th January 2026, Cumbria
Charlie sat in the front passenger seat, his eyes glued lazily to the window, the heater baking him into a soft, drowsy haze. Darkness stretched across the Cumbrian landscape like a shroud. The throbbing rhythm of the streetlights flashing by held it at bay briefly until the town faded behind them.
His mother, Heidi, gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands. They’d already been driving for hours. She turned up the CD player to keep herself awake. Uriah Heep did his best to keep her mind alert. The government red weather warning on the radio had encouraged people to stay at home, but as she’d told Charlie that morning, she’d be damned before they missed the annual second Christmas at her parents’ cottage near Keswick. If all went well, they’d make it before Storm Goretti hit.
Charlie leaned in his seat and almost dozed off, his blinks getting longer and longer. He listened to the whirring sounds of the engine and his mother’s 80s rock classics CD.
A mild bump in the road shook him awake. They must have left the wider A roads to join the country lanes winding through fields and forests. With the loss of the streetlamps, they were left with the car’s high beams to lead the way against the encroaching storm.
It wasn’t long before the black farmers’ fields were replaced by dense forests on each side of the road. Glistening snow covered each branch and glittered in the dark night. A small makeshift parking bay appeared a little way up ahead. His mum pulled into it and put the car into park.
“I need the cold air on my face. I’m knackered.” She stretched, her big hair pressing against the headrest. Despite all evidence to the contrary, she wasn’t ready to accept that the 80s were over. Her only concession to modern times and parental responsibilities was swapping her bike for an automatic car, and her forty cigarettes a day habit for a vape pen.
“I’ll come with you, Mum.” They hadn’t had a break since they last stopped near Preston.
Their boots crunched through the virgin snow. They took a few steps into the woods and stretched, turning away from the wind. His mother turned and zipped Charlie’s puffer jacket higher, then patted his cheek. She must have been freezing, wearing only a leather jacket and a Mötley Crüe crop top, but she didn’t complain as she puffed away on her vape pen.
A brisk breeze shot through the trees and unsettled the snow in the branches above, it came pummelling down onto Charlie’s head and slipped in under his jacket hood. He squealed, then immediately giggled.
His mother tutted and pulled the wet hood up, pressing it onto his head.
Charlie bent down, forming a snowball, then raised it to splat it on her cheek, pausing as, with supernatural instinct, his mother turned, took a step back, and pointed her finger, with its cherry red painted nail, at him.
“Charlie Hopkins, you rat bag, don’t you dare!”
He froze. The combination of eyeliner and maternal fury making him reconsider.
She knocked the ball out of his hand and gave him a hug. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to pelt your cousins soon with as many snowballs as you like.”
The snow, which had been gently dusting them, suddenly started coming down hard.
Storm Goretti had arrived.
“Right, back to the car. I knew we shouldn’t have stopped. The storm’s ahead of schedule.” His mother scanned the trees and the dark road beyond. “We’d better get a move on, before the road becomes impassable.”
Though the roads had been cleared a couple of days earlier, the heavy deluge of snow had turned it into a slippery mess with ice hidden underneath. Worse, the snow was settling.
“Right, Charlie, we need proper metal now. Find me the Pretty Maids album ‘Red, Hot and Heavy.’” She gnawed her lip. He could tell she was worried.
The wind picked up. It shot white specks of snow towards their windscreen and lowered their visibility to near zero. The car slowed down as his mother tried to keep the road in sight. Minutes passed and the path ahead quickly faded away into a white sheet. They were left with no choice but to slow down to a crawl. Even then, they hit the edge of the road and barely managed to swerve back onto the slippery asphalt.
“Should we stop for a bit?” Charlie looked at the snowstorm with concern.
“If we stop here, we won’t be able to get moving again.” His mother leaned forwards, peering into the snow, the wipers on maximum speed.
Before they could argue further about their predicament, they came to a jarring halt. The snow ahead had piled up to levels far exceeding what their hatchback could traverse. The wheels spun with a high pitched whine.
“Shit.” His mother slammed her hand on the steering wheel. “Sorry. I meant to say ‘Bother’.”
“Can we turn around?” Charlie looked worried.
“Nope, we are stuck.”
She pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and turned it on in a futile effort to call for help. This far away from the nearest town, they were out of luck. There was not a single bar of signal to reach civilisation.
“What are we going to do?” Charlie asked.
“Well, we’ll listen to music and keep the engine on.” She kept her eyes on the dashboard. “Your grandparents know we’re coming. Once they realise, they’ll send someone, probably Uncle Pete in his Land Rover. That’ll be fine in the snow.”
They had little in the way of supplies, but his mother always kept several packets of Haribo in the glove box. Charlie dug through the luggage and the presents for his grandparents in the boot. He moved the heavy plastic box containing the breakdown kit to the footwell.
“Don’t worry. If we are still stuck here in the morning, I’ll walk to the nearest farm.” His mother helped herself to a sweet.
Charlie looked dubiously at her leather boots with their high heels.
“But we are going to be out of here soon.”
Charlie tried to sleep, but having slept for so long during the journey, he struggled now. His mother stayed awake, intermittently checking her phone in case a signal could get through. She pinged texts to Pete and Grampy so that when they found a signal again they would automatically send.
He must have slept for a bit, because Charlie woke to his mother opening the driver’s seat door to get outside. She turned to him with a plastic ice scraper in hand.
“Stay put. I am just going to clear the exhaust pipe,” she explained.
The door had only been open for seven seconds, but it had been enough to drastically drop the temperature inside. She held up a torch to assess their situation. Its beam was made visible by the incessant snowfall, though it was only able to penetrate the gloom for five feet.
She cleared the exhaust pipe, hands shaking, checking it twice before she climbed back in.
Once the job had been done, she got back into the car. Her hands shivered from the cold. “Get some sleep, Charlie.” She took a long toke on her vape pen.
Again, Charlie fell to slumber.
He was woken once more when his mother opened the door. Only an hour had passed this time, and again she needed to get out to clear the exhaust pipe and the car roof. It took more time than before due to exhaustion and worsening weather conditions.
Charlie prayed silently that Uncle Pete was on his way. The road ahead was now completely invisible under the snow. The howling wind had picked up. Apart from the scraping of his mother’s tool and the thumps of tossed snow, there was nothing else to be heard.
But then he heard something. The sound of snow crunching.
He contemplated opening his door to listen more closely, but before he could make that decision his mother jumped back into the car. She slammed the door and locked it immediately.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie peered around him.
“Just stay down. There’s a bloody great big dog out there and it doesn’t look friendly.”
Charlie looked out of the window. The snow was falling more softly now and visibility was improving. He could see the dark outlines of the drystone walls and the twisted shapes of the ancient oaks that lined the road.
Movement caught his eye. It was near the tree line. It was huge, but moved with a fluid grace. It looked like a giant wolf.
“That can’t be a dog.” Charlie leaned closer to the window. “It’s massive.”
“Don’t look at it, Charlie. If you ignore dogs, they go away.”
He didn’t look away. The creature stepped out of the tree line and onto the road. It had shaggy black fur that seemed to absorb the scant moonlight shining down upon it. Its paws were immense. But it was the eyes that caused Charlie’s blood to cool. They glowed red with an internal fire. They burned like hot coals in the centre of a furnace.
It stopped, lifted its massive head, and sniffed the air. It let out a low growl that vibrated through Charlie’s belly.
“It knows we are here.” Charlie pushed himself as far back into his seat as he could.
“Lock your door,” his mother ordered.
“It is already locked.”
“Lock it again!”
The beast prowled towards them.
“Get in the back,” his mother hissed.
They scrambled over the centre console into the rear seats. His mother grabbed the plastic breakdown kit and held it tight. She dug through it, tossing aside a high-visibility vest, an unread copy of the Highway Code, and a warning triangle.
“There has to be something sharp. A screwdriver or something.”
“What’s a screwdriver going to do?”
“There is a jack in the boot, under the spare tyre.” Charlie poked his head up to see if he could get into the boot. “I’ve seen Dad use it.”
The car rocked violently as the creature slammed its weight against the driver’s side door. The metal groaning in protest.
Charlie screamed. He clapped his hands over his mouth and dropped back down onto the back seat.
A massive black paw smashed against the window. The glass held, but a spiderweb of cracks instantly bloomed outward from the point of impact.
It rose on its hind legs, towering over the vehicle. Looking down through the sunroof, its burning eyes stared directly at them. Its mouth stretched open, jaws revealing rows of jagged yellow teeth slick with thick ropes of saliva. Ropes of spittle dripped from the corners of its mouth, leaving greasy trails that slid downward.
“That’s not a dog, that’s a monster,” Charlie sobbed. “Mum, it’s a bloody monster.”
“Don’t swear.” His mother gripped Charlie tightly. “This is England. We don’t have—Get down!” She pushed him onto the floor of the car behind the front seats. She threw her body over him as a shield.
The sunroof shattered.
Shards of safety glass rained down on them. Cold air rushed in, bringing the smell of wet fur and rotting meat.
A massive clawed paw swiped blindly through the opening. It caught the fabric of the seat and ripped it open like wet paper.
“Hey!” His mother yelled. She grabbed the first thing her hand touched from the breakdown kit. A can of de-icer spray.
She sprayed it up towards the opening. The chemical cloud hit the creature in the face.
The beast sneezed and shook its head. It sounded annoyed rather than hurt, but it dropped down from the roof. The car bounced on its suspension.
“It’s backing off.” His mother held the can tightly.
She looked out of the rear window. The rear lights briefly illuminated the beast standing ten feet away in a red glow. It shook its head and pawed at its snout.
It was angry now.
“We need a weapon.” His mother looked at the de-icer spray. “This spray is useless. It won’t stop that thing.”
“Fire scares animals.” Charlie looked out at the prowling creature. “We need alcohol, Dad said it burns.”
“Yes, well, your dad thinks alcohol solves all problems.” His mother looked at the can in her hand, then at the glove compartment. “My zippo lighter…” She pushed forward and tried to reach it from the back seat, her arms flailing.
“Let me through,” Charlie argued. “I can reach.”
Before his mother could stop him, he crawled between the front seats. The broken glass crunched under his knees. He reached for the glove box and grabbed the lighter.
The creature attacked again.
It rammed the front of the car, crashing against the bonnet and climbing up. The glass cracked as it butted its head against the windscreen, jaws snapping. Fractures raced across the car, the web spreading until it shattered. Charlie dropped the lighter as the car shook. The beast forced its head through the ruined windscreen, shoulders grinding against twisted metal. Its jaws snapped inches from Charlie’s face. He froze, his heart pumping, his breath hitched.
His mother lunged. She grabbed Charlie by the back of his coat and yanked him backward, just as the jaws closed on the space where his head had been.
“Get back!”
She raised the de-icer can, looking in panic for a way to light it. In desperation, she impotently sprayed its face.
A clawed paw smashed through the broken windscreen, shards spraying across the dash.
The blow caught his mother. There was a loud sound of fabric ripping as it sank its claws into her arm. She screamed in agony, and the can of de-icer flew from her hand and rolled under the driver’s seat.
“Mum!” Charlie reached out to her, breathing fast.
He saw a glint of metal on the front passenger seat. The lighter was lying where it had been dropped. He grabbed it and looked for the can.
It was out of reach.
They were out of time.
It was forcing its way in.
His mother clutched her arm. Blood soaked her sleeve. She kicked the snarling face with her boots, but its eyes were focused on Charlie. Her attacks didn’t even slow it.
Charlie looked around frantically. His mother’s handbag had spilled open on the floor. He saw a giant rainbow coloured can of hairspray, highly flammable hairspray.
Snatching it up, he flicked the lighter. Nothing happened. He desperately flicked the flint twice more. “Come on, come on.”
A small yellow flame sprang to life.
“Burn,” Charlie snarled. He sprayed through the flame. A whoosh filled the car as a jet of flame hit the creature directly in the eyes.
The creature roared. Its face twisted as the flame curled its fur and blistered the soft flesh of its nose. There was a horrific howl as the wounded beast thrashed backward, pulling itself out of the windscreen. It leapt around in panic, flailing as the flames burned the hair on it’s face.
His mother jammed the keys into Charlie’s shaking hand. Blood slicked the plastic. She sagged against the door, her breath shuddered, wet and thin, her teeth chattered. Her eyes drooped.
“Drive.”
“I can’t drive!”
His mother didn’t answer. Charlie climbed into the driver’s seat. He sat on the edge of the seat to reach the pedals. Charlie grabbed the gear stick and yanked it into ‘D’.
He stamped on the accelerator.
The wheels spun. The car whined. It did not move.
“We are stuck!” Charlie cried.
“Rock it.” His mother’s voice was growing faint. “Reverse. Drive. Reverse.”
Charlie looked at her, worried. His mother slumped sideways, her eyes shut.
He jerked the selector into ‘R’ and pumped the accelerator. The car lurched back inches. ‘D’. Forward. ‘R’. Back. ‘D’. Forward.
He did it again. Again.
Outside, the monster shook snow from its singed coat and lifted its head. As he looked in the rear-view mirror, those burning eyes found him.
Then it charged.
Charlie screamed as he floored the pedal.
The tyres bit into something solid beneath the slush. The car leapt forward. It smashed through the drift in front of them.
The beast lunged. Its jaws snapped shut on the rear bumper. It tried to drag the car back.
But the momentum was too great. The plastic bumper tore off with a loud snap. The car fishtailed onto the road.
Charlie struggled with the wheel. He kept his foot pinned to the floor. The car slewed sideways, but he corrected it. They were moving.
He looked in the rear-view mirror.
It stood in the middle of the road. It was illuminated by the red tail lights. It watched them go, throwing its head back and letting out a howl that chilled Charlie to the marrow.
Charlie drove through the night, the car making a worrying rattle.
“Mum?”
His mother didn’t answer. Her pale face rested slack against the window.
A hysterical laugh burbled from his throat as he saw lights ahead. Streetlamps. A village.
He leaned on the horn, refusing to let go as he skidded to a stop in the centre of the village square and put the car into park. Jumping out of the car, he ran to the nearest building, a pub with a light still on upstairs in the landlord’s flat, and pounded on the door.
“Help! My mum needs help! Help us!”
Lights flicked on. People emerged. They were confused and sleepy, but they moved with urgency when they saw the state of the car and the blood on the woman inside.
Charlie collapsed in the snow. He watched them pull his mother from the wrecked car. He saw the deep gouges in her arm and the bruises on her chest. He saw the claw marks on the roof.
A man in a dressing gown wrapped a blanket around him.
“It was a bear,” Charlie whispered, sticking to the only explanation that made sense to his child’s mind. “A big black bear.”
The man’s grip tightened on Charlie’s shoulder. He stared at the gouges, then with concern at the dark road beyond the square.
“There are no bears in England, lad.”
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What a fabulous read .very gripping.
I was totally drawn in to this story .
Loved it ❤️