Short Original Horror Stories

14. In the Woods

Life in the woods is harder than what is depicted in stories like you're used to. Especially, if you are running on short supply of food. Winter principally is when we began to run really low, my mother came up with an idea that practically sounded crazy at first but then again if your nearest neighbors are miles away, you live in a third world country, and you are starving to death you don't seem to have a choice. Or at least that is what my mother told me. I am her only child now, the others are dead. They didn't agree with mother so they died off and their remains are in the backyards cemetery.

Grandma and grandpa received the news a few months later and decided to come keep us company despite the time that has crossed through. Grandpa's glasses nested themselves on the bridge of his nose and his hair was silvering now. Grandma still had a younger glow to her. An air of tradition was around the two. If they only knew.

Grandpa had followed mom outside in the cold to help her gather firewood. Grandpa was still a strong man compared to his features.

There was a loud sound that startled grandma. A loud boom.

"Alfred?"

"Grandma, it might have been a bear. "

"No. No. I heard no growling."

"Hannah! Help me!" mother shouted.

"Stay here, grandma."

"What was that?" Grandma hollered.

"It went off, mom. Alfred is fine."

"We'll cut the wood. Stay in there, mom. Inside the house, in the living room."

"Oh but--

"Mom! It's cold."

"I guess you're right."

I followed mother out the door and sure enough, grandpa was a bloody mess.

"Ready?"

"Yes, mother."

We went into the shack and turned on the saw. The sound of the hungry blade rolled into the room and the splitting rage of splintering bones and skin dirtied the walls and floors with more grime.

I grabbed a bag and slipped the arms insides, mother always carried the heavy loads. Mother placed half of the bags inside the fridge and I went for the jars with my bag behind me. Mother placed the gun on the table counter not far from her.

I don't know why at that moment she had to, but she did. Grandma strolled into the room and saw the messy glasses next to the firearm.

"You. . . .killed? HIM?!"

I took no chances and reached for the weapon and grandma dropped in front of our faces. I was shaken with guilt.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I. . .I. . .I'm sorry."

"Are you crazy?! We still have half of Alfred to put into the freezer!"

"I know. I know."

"Now we have extra! I wanted to keep her a little longer you know?"

"Hey, at least they won't have to worry about life insurance agents?" I smiled slightly.

"Well, now that they are both dead, you know what to do."

"Yes."

I dragged grandma outside, grabbed the shovel and pricked the eyes. Perfect marvels. I buried them in the maggot infested garden.

We had the best feast in months.