Most monsters are big taloned, reptilian or furred beasts with jagged, serated knives for teeth, humanesque monstrosities with ingenius ways of remaining unnoticed by the oblivious buffoons that will forever remain none the wiser, or sometimes, they're just the things that go bump in the night.
This little gremlin, however, is a little different. She didn't look to be more than four or five years old (though in reality I am sure she is centuries, possibly millenia, old) with her bright yellow sundress blotched with flowers in all colours of the rainbow, wheat-coloured hair as fine as the flutter of a butterfly's wings, warm basil green eyes that looked up at you with all the stars in them. Days in the sun had coloured her skin sepia, and freckles as though she had been kissed by angels pocked her dahlia cheeks.
She erupts into innocent fits of bubbly laughter as she mindlessly chases the buzzing of the bees' wings rapidly flapping, the laughter of those watching her childish antics only spurring her on. Her laugh is the contagious sort; every chime of her lilting soprano convincing you you wish to join in, until, unwittingly- enchanted by her noise- you do.
With snake-like speed and precision, however, she plucks the helpless bumblebee from the air, inspecting it's fragile, furry body before stuffing it in her mouth with a mischievous giggle. Falling to the ground with a soft thump, she picked the dandelion weed from her spectators hand and cleanly bites the head off. Hairy seeds poke through her gap-toothed grin.
Seeking more, she goes back to the alarmed onlooker, wrapping her stubby little fingers around one of their own. Her touch is featherlight, like a fairies. The same innocent, angelic, entrancing smile graces her face as she bites the witnesses finger squarely off.
Even when she is long gone- everyone that watched her following keenly after- the smell of maggots, rotten flesh and earthly things gone wrong stain the air. Seeping into every root, coating itself on every surface, it chokes the life out of all living things; every blade of grass, every tree, rabbit, earth, snail, blackbird. Until the rancid smell is so much so that you can't tell the difference between her horror, and the horror she left in her wake.
(words: 382)
You may notice that i reuse some of the chapters in my later pieces cus I really liked them- like the first chapter, and some parts I've cut completely, just cus it's too much or smtn
YOU ARE READING
A collection of short stories
General Fictionit's just for a horror-comedy workshop my school is doing here's a few of my works hope you enjoy (:
