Another horror story please enjoy!!
I still remember the story my grandmother would tell us when we were young kids. She’d gather us around and tell it as if we hadn’t heard it million times before. Her raspy voice would pull you in with every word. There was a village in an old German town. The old land, she’d whisper. They didn’t have a large community but they had a strong community. They farmed, they lived off the grain and the sale of their goods. One day, her voice would tremble as if the words scared her. One day a creature came to the the village. It was taller than all the men. It had large cloven hooves and its body was covered in a dark cloak only its head showed. The head was a large skull like that of a cow and out of the nose smoke rose. Her hands would drift to the sky as she spoke just like she could still see the smoke whisps. It scared the people so bad that when it finally spoke they all gathered around in fearful silence. Its voice echoed deep in its throat a dark growl, not a human voice. It told the village that they had nothing to fear as long as they paid. Every year on the 3rd full moon the creature would return. The village had to give the creature one person from the village, a human sacrifice. She’d tickle us as she giggled and evil laughed. If they didn’t, the creature promised the next day everyone in the village would be dead instead. For 63 years the village gave into the monsters ploy. Till one day as generations died and people started to question. The village forgot to bring a sacrifice to the altar. Maybe the village was just tired of it all. The next day came. She always paused here building on suspense. What happened to the village? We eagerly waited. With a large toothless smile she’d say; nothing happened, with a clap of her hands. What? The moral of the story is don’t believe everything someone tells you even out of fear. I remember that story and it still sticks in my mind. Still stuck there up until I walked up and looked at grandma again. Her eyes stared blankly into the sky. Her wake was packed with family. I dropped the rose and said my final goodbyes. I’d miss her wisdom. I started walking to the back of the room when I noticed a table with all of grandma’s scrapbooks. She did love to scrapbook. I grabbed the oldest looking one and opened it. It had pictures of grandma when she was very young in her teens. Looks like she had an amazing life, she traveled alot. One photo made me pause it was grandma maybe 13 with her arm around a woman’s waist. Which was odd. I didn’t realize my grandma had a mom. Obviously she had a mom but she never talked about having one. I turned the picture over nothing on the back? I walked over to Father Smith he knew grandma the best. “Father Smith, did my grandma ever talk about the woman in this photo?” Father Smith took the photo and smiled, “Yes she talked about that woman alot.” This innately peaked my curiosity. “Is it her mom?” The Father shook his head. “No she was a friend of your grandma’s family that took her in after your grandma’s parents died.” I took a step back, “What? Grandma’s family died?” Father Smith looked concerned, “Yes, didn’t Lisa ever tell you that she was your grandma?” Father Smith chuckled like it was common knowledge. “No, she never did.” Father Smith patted me on the shoulder. “Well what she told me was her parents died suddenly one night along with many others in her town. She somehow got out alive. Seems like maybe a gas leak. She was taken by a family friend and they ended up moving to the US.” I stammered in disbelief, “Move to the US from where?” Father Smith’s eyebrows raised in more disbelief at my lack of knowledge, “From Germany.”
Housed and Fed 