Short Horror Stories and Urban Legends

Kid's, Dinner's Ready *2ND VERSION*

Miss White. A loving, humble and caring woman some may call her. Others admire her skill in the kitchen. In fact she always gets visitors, whether it being her neighbours or colleagues from work, round her house so they can get a lucky taste of her delicious meals. Her children, Lily and Lucy were always at the heart of Miss White's meals. They both thoroughly enjoy the cooking process-it's their favourite part. Without Lily and Lucy, she would have no one to help her cook. 

Today was Sunday. It was a rainy day, terrible gale-force winds and hail stones dropping down from the sky like pellets of hard snowflakes. Miss White was busy, as usual, in her kitchen working away at her new recipe- a pie. James Johnson was on his way home from work, puling his jacket over his head whilst juggling a newspaper under one arm, and his briefcase under the other arm. He was about to try and hitchhike a car, if he was lucky, but then he looked up and saw the steam coming out of a cozy-looking house-through the chimney. 'Miss White's house' he thought to himself. Without hesitation he rung the doorbell, folding his newspaper in half and slipping it inside his briefcase as he was now sheltered. The door opened, and instantly a fabulous smell of fresh pastry wafted pass Miss White and into Jame's nostrils. "Aww, dear boy! Please, come inside, the weather is awfully dreadful is it not?" Miss White said, with a beaming smile and open arms, standing aside to let him in. With a gentle push, the door closed shut...trapping the scents in. 

James put down his newspaper and briefcase, and slid his jacket off-all dripping with gloomy drops of drizzle. He closed his eyes, and took in the smell once more. Nothing could beat it. "Do make yourself comfortable. Why, dinner's almost ready! You could, perhaps, sit up at the table and join my daughters and I?" Miss White's face was displaying a friendly smile, a look that almost said 'oh yes, please do join us. W,hat fun we'd have, hm?'  Without hesitation, Mr Johnson walked up to the wooden dining table, pulled out a chair from underneath and sat down. Not wanting to seem rude, but yet dying for some food, he tucked a clean-white napkin into is damp shirt and picked up a knife and a fork which were previously placed either side of a sparkling plate. "Now, just sit tight and don't go anywhere." Miss White said, quite sternly, as she walked out of the room to get the pie out of the oven. James did not care. He was too hungry. He was too hungry in fact to take any notice of the tapping from behind his chair. With a click of his finger's, Miss White was already back in the room, carrying a pie with some oven-mits on. The smell, which never went away, came back stronger than ever. James just wanted to eat it all. The pie was placed on the table gentle. Lunging out to grab a slice, Miss White chuckled and said "hey now, not so fast dear. Here, let me!" She cut a delicious-looking, succulent slice and put it onto his plate.He dived straight into it, violently cutting into it and shoving the food into his mouth. Miss White just sat there, grinning and watching him take bite after bite, swallow after swallow, until the whole pie was gone, and just the pot remained. After an intense course, James lent back on his chair with a full sigh. "Did you enjoy that, dear?" The lady asked, still grinning. 

"Of course, Miss White." James replied, fishing out a sharp piece of pie from one of his teeth. Still picking at it, he questioned her. "I thought your children were joining us too.." Miss White had not moved at all since she sat down at the table. She just simply sat there, smiling at said "they did." The tapping behind his chair was getting more heavier and louder now. Getting a little curious, he tweezed out the sharp piece from his tooth and held it with two fingers. His eyes widened a little as he saw that the sharp piece of pie was not a part of the crust like he thought, but instead it was something unusual. Examining it, not taking his eyes of it, he casually  asked her "are they upstairs or something then?" 

"No dear, they're here with us, right now." James looked up at her, then around the room-the tapping on his chair becoming as intense at the pie he just ate. He could feel his heart racing. Why was he so scared? They were just children, sweet children. 

"You're pie was very sweet what was in it?" He said, fast. His breath picking up the pace a little.

"Ask Lily and Lucy, they made it dear!" 

"What?!" he sweat. Surprised at the fact Miss White didn't actually make it herself. The tapping on his chair now was so loud he could hardly hear himself think. It wasn't tapping anymore. It was thudding. That's when his heart basically pumped out of his chest. The sharp piece of pie in his fingers was a tiny, little nail. He stood up quick, but instantly regretted it. As he stood over the table, he peered in the pie pot and made a decision to get out of there as quick as possible. 'Poor children,' he thought.

"Where are you going?" Miss White sounded a little hurt that he was leaving so soon. He made a run for the door, but didn't get very far as he felt a rough grasp around his ankle. He stumbled to a halt and turned around. 

"Oh my God..." he gasped. Lily stared at him, eyes blood-shot and wide. She tried to scream, but only a haunting whisper came out of her mouth-so bloody and torn. He wanted to release her from the chains and all that was left of her weak and disfigured body, but all he could do was run. He made a feeble grab for the door handle, but it was locked. He turned around to try and make an escape to the backdoor, but when he turned he was greeted by the face of an old woman, wrinkles and rotted teeth. Mr Johnson frozeand held his breath backing himself to te door as close as possible. 

"We haven't had desert yet!" Was all she said. Her menacing grin turned upside down almost immediatly when she saw his confused expression. "Lily was the pie, stupid!" Her cackling voice broke his ears. 

"W.....what about L...ucy?" He regretted asking. 

"Basically dear, she kills I cook!" And with that, Lucy came bursting out of the cupboard under the stairs and forced a butcher's knife into his chest. "You still up for some pudding, Mr Johnson...?" His eyes widened at the sound of his name before he fell to the floor.

He probably should have gone straight home.