Author's Note: I'm trying to get back into writing short stories and such, so I found some story starters online.
The old woman turned and smiled. It wasn't the sweet kind of smile you'd expect from an old lady like her. No, this was a greasy kind of grin, marring her face with ugly lines. It was the kind of grin that was full of malice, the kind that would make anyone's stomach flip and their skin crawl.
Her teeth were yellowed with age, some missing, some decayed and full of holes. Her gums were sickeningly white, and her lips cracked unpleasantly.
I couldn't move, paralysed by her foul grin. My hand was between us, mid-air where I had reached out to receive what she had promised. I knew I needed to move, to back away and run as far and fast as I could, but it was too late.
She grabbed my wrist, squeezing it tightly. It was like the touch alerted my sense and I started struggling, trying in vain to get away from her. He grin turned into a scowl and she squeezed at my wrist tighter, making me wince in pain.
"There's a lesson to be learned he, deary." She said sickeningly sweetly, her grin returning to her face. He voice was cold like ice, piercing like nails on a chalkboard and hard as steel. I shook with fear, cowering as she towered over me. Her grin came back, wider this time, and I vaguely noticed her pull a sharp knife from her back with her free hand.
"You shouldn't talk to strangers."
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