Creative Writing Pieces

Winter

I felt the bitter winter wind brush against the back of my neck, making me tense up. I never liked winter, nor did I want to be shoveling snow on my day off from work; I had to, however, to make some extra money.

I heard a crunching noise behind me and flashed around. I was always so easily startled. I saw a squirrel dart off to the nearest tree and breathed a sigh of relief. My short black hair poked out from under my stocking hat and brushed the tops of my ears. I was so cold; I didn't want to be shoveling any longer.

"Excuse me, dear?" I heard the voice behind me and turned toward the source. I saw an older woman, maybe in her late sixties, looking at me. "Would you like to come in for some hot cocoa and warm up next to the fire?"

"Y-Yes, thank you, ma'am," I answered and made my way up to her doorstep. I had to climb a set of concrete steps, but I knew it would be worth it to feel the warmth her house would provide.

When I stepped inside, I was immediately hit with a familiar, homey feeling. Her interior smelled of gingerbread and pinecones; a winter wonderland.

"Come, come," she told me, motioning to an extremely comfortable-looking armchair next to her. "Sit, warm up next to the fire. I'll get you some cocoa and cookies," she finished and took off into the next room over, presumably the kitchen.

While she was gone, I didn't have to try very hard to make myself comfortable. I sat back in the chair and leaned towards the fireplace. It was in a huge blaze, and warmed my hands quickly. She had a large stack of something next to the fire, underneath a sheet. I assumed it was pre-cut firewood, so she could just throw logs in when the fire got low.

I saw something move in the corner of my eye and glanced over toward the darkened hallway. It wasn't the old woman. It wasn't anything, really; nothing was there.

"Here are those cookies, sonny," the woman said and placed the plate next to the mug of cocoa on the oak coffee table. I was hesitant at first, but slowly grabbed a cookie from the tray. The gingerbread man gave off a sad expression, so I tried not to stare directly at it.

The shadow I saw only moment earlier was burned into my thoughts. I had to ask about it. "Um... ma'am?"

She had just sat down in a chair next to the sheeted lump. "Yes, sonny?"

"If you don't mind me asking... do you live alone here?"

"Yes," she simply answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious..."

I decided not to eat the cookie and placed it back onto the tray. I didn't notice until then just how dark her slit eyes were. They seemed to resemble that of a midnight's blackness; her gray hair was in short curly locks, reaching only just past the top of her forehead. Her skin was specked with liver spots, and was more colorless than the most draining clouds on a rainy day.

"Aren't you going to try a cookie?"

My gaze left the fire and found her. She was staring at me. "I, uh... I'm not that hungry, actually."

She picked up a cookie and handed it to me. "Nonsense – one cookie isn't going to make you sick. Try it."

I swallowed hard and took a tiny bite from the gingerbread man's head. I chewed it slowly, cautiously, and eventually swallowed it. I wouldn't have, if she hadn't been staring at me the entire time.

"See? Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

I shook my head and grabbed the ceramic mug filled to the brim with hot chocolate. I took a big gulp and chugged down a good half of it before setting it down on the table. Why was I so thirsty?

"Oh my, you're a thirsty one, aren't you? Well, I'll go get you some more cocoa and cookies."

Once she left, I started to feel a bit woozy. All I wanted to do was lie down and take a nap. My eyelids started to droop, and the last image I saw was the woman entering the room with something large in her hands. I tried to pinpoint what it was, but before I could, I fell deep into unconsciousness.

~

When I began to stir, I felt an intense burning sensation on my hand, and my lower abdomen lacked feeling. When my eyes finally awakened, the first thing I saw was the woman bent over me holding an axe. I tried to scream, but could not. My mouth was stuck together with something infinitely stronger than duct tape.

"You can try to save yourself, but I'm already halfway ahead." She broke into a loud, psychotic laughter. "Get it?" she asked, hysterical. "Because you're literally a half!"

Terrified in the most curious way, I forced my head up so I could look down. I did not possess legs. She was right – I was only a half. I was bandaged up as to stop the bleeding, but it looked like it was soaking through anyway.

"I hope you like fire," she purred. "Because soon you'll belong to it. I need more food for the fire, after all. Your legs are already in a blaze."

My heart wasn't beating. How could it? This insane old woman had cornered me. I wasn't getting out of the situation alive. I was already legless, and my hand was so close to the fireplace it was almost in an inferno as well. This was the end, and I knew it.

People say when you face death, your life flashes before your eyes. Well, that's not what happened with me. All that happened was an invading blackness that started at my peripherals and made its way across my vision, the unbearable pain soon became numb.

My last thought was what was under that clean, white sheet.

Her dismembered victims.