Her Last Day
The House of Tiny Monsters
You know that story of the forgotten house? Every city has one.
They say it's nearly a hundred years old —and I believe them.
We walk past it's boarded windows and decrepit overgrown fence, curious to catch a glimpse of what lies inside; counting the slivers of paint that curl down like peels of ripped skin.
What had gone so wrong in that house for it to be locked up so tight? The stories still send a chill down my spine to this very day.
My finger hung over the cracked doorknob as I steeled myself for what I'd find...
About the Creator
K.H. Obergfoll
Writing my escape, my future…if you like what you read—leave a comment, an encouraging tip, or a heart—I’m always looking to improve, let me know if there is anything I can do better.
& above all—thank you for your time
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from K.H. Obergfoll and writers in Fiction and other communities.
I First Saw Him
When I first saw him sitting on the wall, relaxed and looking out over the water, I was sure he wasn't a local. Not including children, there are only about 250 or 300 of us in this area full-time, though that number is ten-fold in the summer, and I know everyone at least by sight or by family resemblance. And yet, the way he sat looked familiar and started my mind sorting and discarding among the families I knew, not quite like this one, not quite like that one.
By Natalie Wilkinson7 days ago in Fiction
The Kind Witch of Halloween
In a sleepy village lived an old woman named Aurora, a witch. She resided in a humble cottage on the edge of the forest, far from the townsfolk. The villagers feared her, believing her to be evil. They often saw her gathering herbs under the moonlight, muttering strange words.
By Khalid laakiki4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
"peels of ripped skin." brilliant.