Josh ordinarily wouldn’t have helped the girl. For Pete’s sake, it was the twenty-first century and he wasn’t exactly the gentlemanly type. From the moment the girl had floated into the bar, rain-soaked and desperate for a payphone, Josh had seemed unable to stop himself from asking her about her troubles.
“It’s Gran, a few farms east,” she looked up at him with large brown eyes. “She’s real sick.”
He took in the girl from head to toe. From the long brown curls still releasing tiny droplets down smooth shoulders and arms to the denim skirt and red cowgirl boots, he wanted to brand the image in his memory forever. She panted, as if she’d run for days. Her tight black shirt swelled and stretched with her breaths. He watched and knew she wore nothing else underneath it.
“I’m no doctor, Ma’am. But, I’m happy to drive her to the hospital,” he said and set his glass down.
The girl hugged him. When she did, Josh resisted the urge to slide his hands down to her waist and draw her closer.
“Gran’s all I got left. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her,” the girl said from the truck passenger seat. “She’s been real sick for a while. Today, she … hurt one of our animals. I had to tie her up…”
When the girl burst into tears, Josh changed the subject. “What’s your name?”
“Jenna,” she had composed herself, and started biting her red nails. It was a habit Josh ordinarily hated, but Jenna seemed to make it sexy.
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Too bad,” the thought accidentally escaped his lips.
Jenna tugged her skirt down. “It’s the next one here.”
The old two-story farmhouse was completely dark, save for the sliver of yellow light that illuminated the back stairwell. The old woman’s groans could be heard echoing in the black. She sounded to Josh like a mouse caught in a trap.
“I can’t go up there,” Jenna buried her face in his shirt.
“You’re fine. I’m here,” Josh reassured, taking her hand.
The couple felt their way through the house and up the stairs, which creaked in protest underneath their weight. Finally to the room, Josh felt paint chips give and fall to the floor as he pushed the door ajar.
“Oh, no,” Jenna whispered. “She’s freed herself.”
The old woman stood facing the corner in a blood-splattered nightgown, moaning and throwing her hands wildly against the wall without strength or coordination.
“Ma’am?” Josh’s voice quivered.
At this, the woman whipped around, her grey, wrinkled flesh sagged around empty eye sockets. She growled and bulleted toward the couple, jaw wide.
Jenna was the first to go, shrieking for Gran to have mercy. While Josh was being eaten his thoughts drifted back to the angelic red-lipped girl he’d met in the bar only an hour before with legs that went on forever. Now that’s a body to die for!
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©2010 T. Michelle
T. Michelle is a software engineer by day and die hard horror fanatic by night. For more information, see her blog: http://cometothia.blogspot.com/.
Tags: T. Michelle
December 10th, 2010 at 10:05 am
AWESOME!!!!!
Good for Gran… never to old to be hungry, right?
Jim
December 12th, 2010 at 3:07 pm
Thanks for reading, Jim. I love sites like this with readers that can appreciate rooting for the “bad guys.”
Until next time,
-T.
December 13th, 2010 at 6:47 am
Nice one, T!
December 13th, 2010 at 11:27 am
Lol am so glad that dark side wasn’t there when you were growing up. I would have made more than a light snack.
Great job sweetie….keep it up.