Scary Short

I’ve been trying to post a new scary short short story every Halloween. Twenty years from now, maybe I’ll have enough for a collection.

For now, enjoy!

Right after her family moved into their new house, she began to smell it.

Not always there. Just a whiff when she’d flip a switch and a dusty ceiling fan would groan into life. Or she’d open a closet and the smell would waft toward her, then vanish.

Damp. Thick. Rotting.

–You’re imagining it, sweetie.

–You just need to get used to the new place.

She left the windows open at all times. She dragged rugs outside into fresh air. She scrubbed floors with a stiff brush dripping hot water and bleach.

Her hands were red and sore. One of her knuckles cracked. She put her finger to her lips, but instead of salt, all she could taste was the smell.

Heavy. Oozing. Foul.

–This isn’t right.

–We’ll take you to see someone. Someone to talk to.

She lay in bed, and the smell seemed to slip long, slender fingers down her throat, coating her insides with slime.

She thought of mold, deep inside the walls. By morning, she’d clawed off as much wallpaper as she could reach. The walls, laid bare, were white and clean, but the smell was worse than ever.

–Look at her hands.

–We have to go now. We’re taking you somewhere safe.

Looking up at the concerned faces, she realized at last where the smell was coming from.

Dark, fuzzy tendrils spiraled into her whites of her father’s eyes. They spiderwebbed from the corners of her mother’s mouth.

Her bloody hands curled tight.

She knew what she’d have to clean next.