Danny had heard the stories. When he was younger, they were akin to that of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, but as he aged out of those stories, the Dirtman remained. It was fun at first, collecting dirt from the garden and arranging it in a neat little pile under his pillow before bed, but as he got older and reached his teenage years, it seemed rather silly. Danny’s father often remarked how difficult it was to be a man in this world, and how easy Danny’s mother had it, being able to sleep soundly at night without fear.
It was no longer a ghost story, used to scare children, it was common sense. Danny had once asked how come no one they knew had ever been dragged away, to which his father simply replied, ‘Diligence.’ And so every night before bed, Danny ensured he kept to the ritual. Until one night.
Danny wasn’t the first – and he certainly won’t be the last – and the truth is, he was unlucky that night. Many young boys had played with fate in the same way, resting their head on a dirt-less pillow, and they got away with it as the Dirtman happened to not come to town that night. As they boasted about it the following morning, however, their fathers gave them a talking to they won’t soon forget, and they never tempted fate again.
The sky was grey and murky that night as Danny laid his head down to sleep. Sleeping easy with the confidence that comes from the naivety of youth. In the middle of the night, however, he was awoken with a start, his arms bound to his side by a thick brown rope. He opened his mouth to scream but no sound came out. As he was being dragged away he looked up at the shadowy figure before him, the tall, muscular build, the Stetson hat, and the bomber jacket. As the spurs of the figure’s cowboy boots clicked along, Danny knew that despite his human appearance, this was no mere mortal. While being dragged through the front garden, Danny looked up at the dark clouds rolling past the half-crescent moon. He would never see the sky again.