This is the fourth and last part of my horror series Not Spoiled by Water. The other parts are called … More
This is the third part of a horror series called Not Spoiled by Water. The parts can be read in any order. The other parts so far are The Supper and Play by the Lake.
Mari lay in her bed watching the heavy rain hit the roof outside her window. She couldn’t sleep tonight either. Daylight was already emerging, the nights were short at this time of year.
She heard voices downstairs. Loud, angry voices. Her mother and her uncle. She got out of bed, wanting to know what they were saying. What they were hiding.
She heard a strange thump sound. Then there was silence. She looked through the fence poles of the staircase. Her mum was lying on the floor. A pool of blood was growing underneath her, soaking the wooden floor. Hans was holding a fireplace hook in his hand.
He looked up. Their eyes locked. A smile spread on his face… (More)
This story is connected to my earlier post Not Spoiled by Water – The Supper, and part of an ongoing horror series. They can be read individually.
Gunnhild couldn’t find her little boy anywhere. She went up to the old tree, he sometimes liked to play up there. She couldn’t find him. She looked under the house. Nothing.
She walked down the path towards the firewood shelter. Her father was there.
-Have you seen Peder? She asked.
-No I haven’t. Maybe he’s down by the lake?
The lake. She looked over her shoulder in a fast movement.
“Be careful down by the lake, little Peder. Something might just push you under.” Her brother’s words… (More)
Silence. Mari’s mother looked down at her plate. Her uncle Hans had a strange smile on his face. He didn’t smile much.
-Where did you hear that name? Her grandmother’s voice was shaking. Mari wasn’t sure if it was anger or fear. Maybe it was both, or something else. She didn’t answer.
-I said, where did you hear that name?
-I didn’t hear it, Mari said. I found a drawing…
Another long silence. No one said anything. Her grandma looking at straight at her. Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
-He was your brother, Uncle Hans said… (More)
-Oh my God… The two experienced police technicians had never seen anything like this. There were bloodstains everywhere. On the walls, on the furniture, even in the ceiling. The floor was a crimson red pool. The victim was spread around in little pieces. Some psycho sure had had an amazing time.
They walked around, trying not to step in the blood, but it was impossible.
-Hey! I’ve got a fingerprint!
-That was fast, Pete said. They hadn’t even gotten their equipment out of the suitcase.
-Right there, written in blood.
It was. A big, red stain could be seen on the table.
-This guy must be a giant. He looked down at the hand lying on the floor. -The victim seems to have been normal enough… (More)
She stood there in the widow staring down at him. He tried not to look up there, but he couldn’t. He walked by as fast as he could as he always did. Her narrow eyes glared at him. He could feel her stare in his chin as he passed, holding back not to run. By the end of the road he sent her a hateful glare