THE WORST
THE WORST
The elders told us tales of Der Grossman. I always thought they were just stories to make children stay at home and not run away into the woods, I was wrong.
I remember it was a foggy night during the middle of winter, the coldest winter our village had ever experienced, many of the farmers crops had been destroyed and most of the townspeople had died from starvation or were poisoned by the food that actually made it through the winter. Many of the townsfolk were in a panic because of stories that had circulated from surrounding villages, apparently, a man, as thin as sticks, with no facial features, has been taking children from their homes and returning them with their eyes gauged out.
I heard my mother calling out to me from the kitchen, “Axel, she says, take the dinner scraps out to the chickens” I quickly accept the chore, as my mother has a short-temper. As I walk past the living room, I see my sister, Gretel, playing with some black fabric, I ask her where she found it, but she just mumbles to herself “it’s going to be bad, the worst” I walk past her and open the door to the chicken coup, I notice that all the chickens are missing and there is a blood trail leading into the forest. I hesitate, but I run in. I followed the trail for what seemed like 500 metres, when I saw him, a man, eight feet tall, with no facial features and dressed in a plain black suit. As soon as I saw him, I ran, and I didn’t stop until I reached the house.
I entered the house in panic, I yell out “Mum, Gretel, I saw him, I saw him!” but there is no answer. I look all around the house, but I can see no one. I decide to look in the place that I fear most, where my father died, in the basement. I retrieve the lantern that we keep upstairs and enter the basement. I creep down the stairs, slowly; I point the lantern around and softly call out to my mum and Gretel. I hear Gretel’s soft voice “Help” she says. I spot Gretel and shine the lantern on her, my mother is holding
The elders told us tales of Der Grossman. I always thought they were just stories to make children stay at home and not run away into the woods, I was wrong.
I remember it was a foggy night during the middle of winter, the coldest winter our village had ever experienced, many of the farmers crops had been destroyed and most of the townspeople had died from starvation or were poisoned by the food that actually made it through the winter. Many of the townsfolk were in a panic because of stories that had circulated from surrounding villages, apparently, a man, as thin as sticks, with no facial features, has been taking children from their homes and returning them with their eyes gauged out.
I heard my mother calling out to me from the kitchen, “Axel, she says, take the dinner scraps out to the chickens” I quickly accept the chore, as my mother has a short-temper. As I walk past the living room, I see my sister, Gretel, playing with some black fabric, I ask her where she found it, but she just mumbles to herself “it’s going to be bad, the worst” I walk past her and open the door to the chicken coup, I notice that all the chickens are missing and there is a blood trail leading into the forest. I hesitate, but I run in. I followed the trail for what seemed like 500 metres, when I saw him, a man, eight feet tall, with no facial features and dressed in a plain black suit. As soon as I saw him, I ran, and I didn’t stop until I reached the house.
I entered the house in panic, I yell out “Mum, Gretel, I saw him, I saw him!” but there is no answer. I look all around the house, but I can see no one. I decide to look in the place that I fear most, where my father died, in the basement. I retrieve the lantern that we keep upstairs and enter the basement. I creep down the stairs, slowly; I point the lantern around and softly call out to my mum and Gretel. I hear Gretel’s soft voice “Help” she says. I spot Gretel and shine the lantern on her, my mother is holding