The house, like an unwanted dog, squats on the outskirts of town, whimpers in abandonment. Clarice pushes inside, out of the rain. A burnt odour, old and alone like Clarice herself, licks at her wrinkled face, snuggles under the greasy gray strands of her hair. She shrugs. As long as it's dry.
Clutching her sodden bag, she walks five steps before the house gulps her down its throat. She lands hard inside its bowels, moans, broken.
A giggle. "Got another one."
Clarice looks up. Children grin down from above.
One douses her with gasoline. Another lights a match.
Clarice screams.
Author bio: Madeline Mora-Summonte is a writer and a reader, a beach-comber and a tortoise-owner. She is the author of the flash fiction collection, The People We Used to Be.
Derelict is part of 101 Fiction issue 9.
Oh, that sounds like the start of a Supernatural episode. Where are Dean and Sam when you need them?
ReplyDeleteSusan Says
Yikes!! So creepy and a fantastic little read.
ReplyDeleteWow! What a twist.
ReplyDeleteExcellent! Little darlings will be little darlings, dangerous and deadly!
ReplyDeleteThat is chilling, as I'm sure you planned.
ReplyDeleteA burnt odour, old and alone like Clarice herself, licks at her wrinkled face-- I love this. Total writer envy going on right now.