"It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring- he went to bed, and he bumped his head and he couldn't get up in the morning!" The little girl squealed, each pause accentuated with a quack of her rubber duck.
"Okay Cheeseball, now would you get rid of that thing- you don't know where it's been!" Her dad called in resigned concern for his little one. She huffed dramatically, a shout of 'fine' yelling back at him.
Giving the little duckie one last squeeze, so that it erupted in quacking wheezes, she cried "Wubber duck!" and tossed the stained, artificially yellow piece of plastic into the lake, with a soft 'plop' lost in the terrential downpour, and went on her merry way, her Peppa Pig wellies sending the droplets of water that had made homes from the dips in the path, flying.
Unseen by anyone, a hand broke the surface of the murky lake, and grabbed the little duck by the neck, dragging it down. It never resurfaced- but the hand did, though it turned out to be a little girl, not the Lady of the Lake from the legends, summery dress completely dry, stubby little legs waddling from the place she had just escaped.
Somewhat related- what do a builder, a teacher, 2 supermarket workers, a hair-stylist, a pharmacist, a firefighter and a sandwich delivery man all have in common? She killed them all.
Well- no-one actually knew she killed them, but they were all killed in the same way. Kicked in the ankles with preternatural strength, hard enough that they broke, so they dropped to their knees, and, as though the murderer wasn't tall enough to do it otherwise, they were then bludgeoned in the head.
But that wasn't it, oh no. After they were dead, a cavity was dug out of their stomach- their innards nowhere to be seen- only to be replaced with soil, topped with the most pristine blue cornflower to be found. It wasn't centred, however, which was actually really annoying, it's not that difficult, but for some reason, it always found its way slightly to the left. A rather peculiar choice in flowerpot if you ask me, but- hey, to each their own I guess. Not very long-lasting...
Most monsters are big taloned, reptilian or furred beasts with jagged, serrated 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 adorable little gremlin, though, she's not what you'd expect. She didn't look to be more than four or five years 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 was a demon, and in more ways than one. She had started off as just a kindly little girl, who loved ducks and gardening, when one day she decided she was going to kill 17 people. So off she toddled, gardening shears in one hand, fresh-picked cornflower in the other, she tromped off, with her duck bucket hat jammed firmly on her head, to destroy humanity.
The only way they could catch her was to kill her, and so they did. Having killed her own parents, no-one actually missed her, though. But when she entered Hell, Satan thought she looked too innocent to be of any use to him, and sent her right back; albeit with demon-like strength and a luminous presence, of something completely out of, and one with, this Earth, so she could continue harvesting souls for him.
But the kind of power to send someone back, wasn't a thing one casually possesses, so what she needed was an opening. So there she sat, staring through the glassy lake, until something plonked right there in front of her. A rubber duck. God, she loved ducks she could just-
Reach right out and grab it. And she did. Her love of ducks had been the power she needed, evidently. Sadly, her touch melted the plastic in her hand to a blackened gloop, and it was gone, but so was she. Gone from her crystal prison, into the big wide world. Off to do some more killing.
Oh, they grow up so fast.
(Words: 760)
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 (:
