|A Great Joke
Author: QueenofKing PM
You hurt me, I walk away. You hurt my friends, I hurt you. You hurt my family and I'll bury you. Based on an urban legend.Rated: Fiction M - English - Horror - Chapters: 6 - Words: 2,962 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 3 - Published: 10-08-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2959199
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Heather groaned and opened her eyes, she sat up but the world began to spin and she almost threw up. After a moment, things slowed down and she looked around. The room was unfamiliar, the walls were peeling and the carpet looked very moth eaten. Heather staggered to her feet and slowly turned until she was facing the door; across the hall another door was open. Shadows danced across the walls as candlelight flickered in a slight breeze. Heather was just wondering if she could make it out of the room and along the corridor without being spotted or heard when a familiar giggle stopped her in her tracks.
"Mitchell?" she whispered. Heather shuffled across the hallway and into the lighted room, she suddenly felt sick again. Mitchell was sitting in a wheelchair; his arms were stained with blood up to the elbows. He held a large knife in one hand and was smiling at their mother, who sat on the other side of the room with a bottle of whiskey in her hands. Heather stepped backwards, a board creaked and Mitchell snapped his head to look at her. His smile grew.
"You're awake! Come see what I made for you. Mum got me the parts but I made it all myself!" He looked so proud and happy; you could almost ignore the blood that was everywhere. Heather walked across the room and stopped beside the wheelchair. Mitchell pointed at the wall behind the door and Heather turned to look. Later, she would say that she actually felt her mind snap in that moment. Betsy and Coco were pinned against the wall, the skin on their torsos had been pulled back and their insides were hanging like streamers. Heather turned back to Mitchell; he was still smiling as he put the knife on the floor. She was vaguely aware of her mother sobbing in the corner.
"Do you like it, Heather? Say you do, please?" Heather looked at the bodies again before turned back to Mitchell, she smiled.
"I love it" she whispered. Mitchell lifted his arms and Heather pulled him to her, the blood from his arms smudged onto her clothes and on her face.
"It's all for you, Heather. It's all for you" cried Mitchell. Heather sat down on the floor and pulled her brother into her lap; she wrapped her arms around him and began to rock from side to side. It was okay. It would all be okay.