Lucky Day Of Doom: A Collection Of Short Stories

The Waffle Iron From Hell

The biggest mistake I ever made was going into that thrift store. "Uncle Tony's Thrift Shop," is what it was called. I never liked that place. I don't know why, but there was definitely something about Tony and his shop that invoked a sense of fear.

It was old and shady. Out of all the lights in the store, only one worked. The paint on the wall was chipping, and almost all the items were dirty and broken beyond repair. Almost.

I had been taking a stroll through town and decided to go in. I desperately had to use the bathroom and I prayed that there was one in the store. Luckily, there was, and I relieved myself in the disgusting bathroom, which had bugs crawling all over it. I was scared to turn on the sink, and my fear was justified, for as I turned the knob, brown water began to spill out. At least, I thought it was water.

After walking out of the bathroom, I decided, against my better judgment, to explore the shop. I dug through cardboard boxes, searching for something that wasn't destroyed. After ravaging through a couple of boxes, I found a waffle iron that was covered in a thin layer of dust. There was some weird writing engraved on the back, but I couldn't read it. I wiped the dust off and examined the item. "Why should I buy this?" I thought to myself. "I don't actually need it." Despite what my mind had told me, my hunger and curiosity had gotten the better of me, and I bought the waffle maker.

I walked up to the counter, where Tony was waiting.

"Ah, a fine piece," he said slowly. "Try not to use it that much. You might aggravate them and— I mean, you might break the waffle iron. It's a used piece, after all."

"Wait, what?" I was confused by what he had said. "Aggravate who?"

He looked away from me at first, staring of into the distance, as if contemplating something. Then, he jerked his around to face me again.

"Nothing, son. But seriously, do try to be careful with that," he pointed to the waffle iron. "Good day!"

I walked out with the iron, still thinking about what he had said. Like I told you before, he was a weird guy. Now that I think about it, I must have seemed really weird too, walking down the street with a waffle iron in my arms.

I used the waffle iron to make myself breakfast for three days, and nothing had happened so far. I assumed that whatever he had said was a lie, or something he had made up to scare me. Or perhaps he was high. I️ don't know. Turns out I was wrong.

While using the iron to make myself breakfast for the fourth time, it started to make noises. As I stirred the batter to make my waffle, the iron began to rattle and bounce around on my countertop. I went over to it and opened it up to see what the problem was, and was greeted by a clawed, pale arm reaching out of the iron and flailing around. I heard grunts and growls from inside, and another arm poked out of the iron. I guess I had figured out what Tony had meant.

Those two hands soon became four hands, and from four hands came six. Now, with six demonic hands sticking out of my waffle maker, I was left with only one option. I grabbed a kitchen knife and cut one of the arms in half, and a green goopy substance flew everywhere. Immediately after slicing the arm, I was treated to the sound of the thing shrieking in what I could only hope was agony.

As the shrieking subsided, the iron began to rattle again. A head poked out of the iron so quickly that it made me jump. It was pale, like the arms, and was covered in scars. The face almost looked like a skull , with barely any flesh and skin on it at all. Where eyes should have been there were just empty indents in the creature's skin. It's nose was just two holes in The middle of its face. The thing's mouth was home to several rows of fangs, resembling a shark's mouth. As it's body fully emerged from the waffle maker, I discovered that the creature had three legs. Two in the normal position of human legs, and one in between them. The toes, like the hands, were clawed and bony. The creature looked like a grotesque monster from one of my childhood nightmares.

As more of these abominations began rising up from the waffle iron, I was forced to retreat to my bathroom, were I locked the door and armed myself with my kitchen knife and a bottle of Windex.

The scratching on the door had ensued for almost an hour now, and I had been standing there the whole time, staring at the door, hoping to god it wouldn't open up. It did.

I stabbed and spray-bottled my way through the hoard of creatures, as they chased me around my home. I had only managed to kill two of them so far, but that was a start. I ran upstairs, into my bedroom, and attempted to close the door. They had realized what I was trying to do, and blocked the door. I threw the knife at one of them. It missed. "Oh, shit!" I said. One of them sprinted towards me, and toppled me over. It clawed at my face, scratching me all over. I pulled out my bottle of Windex, and spayed it into it's mouth. I made a wheezing sound and fell over.

I got up, and realized that it had cut my forehead pretty bad. The blood dropped down my face and stung my eyes. With no time to think about what to do next, .I ran full speed out the window, cutting myself even worse with all the shards of glass. Stupid idea, I know, but the only alternative was to be mutilated by those beasts. I did my best to manage a safe landing, but failed. I land right on my legs. I️ felt my bones crack as I️ hit the ground. "Damnit!" I said through gritted teeth.

I limped over to Tony's shop, hoping to find some answers and, hopefully, another knife. The only working light wasn't on. "Tony!" I called out, and received no answer. Now, Tony's shop had looked like a wreck to begin with, but this was something much worse. There was blood splattered all over the moldy walls, and the antiques and paraphernalia scattered all across the shop. I checked behind the counter. There was Tony, with deep, bloody gashes running down his entire, lifeless body. "Holy shit." I said.

Just then, I heard a rattling noise from behind me. "Fuck," I murmured. I turned to see what had made the sound, and found another waffle iron, identical to the one I had bought earlier that day, sitting on the floor. "Oh my—" Before I could do anything else, I heard another sound.

Then I felt the claw on my back.