BeeBee's Secrets

Submitted into Contest #160 in response to: Set your story during a drought.... view prompt

1 comment

Thriller Horror Suspense

This story contains themes or mentions of physical violence, gore, or abuse.

When I could put it off no more, I tiptoed into Great Aunt BeeBee’s room. The floor was cold and gritty, dust and crumbs and who knows what else stuck to my bare feet. I slowly twisted the freezing cold door knob and pushed the door open with a loud squeak. My only source of light came from a teeny tiny slit between the ugly and old saggy curtains at the window, the feeble brightness barely enough for me to make out anything. I crept closer, trying to not throw up on the spot as the strong smell of sweat and sickness flooded my nostrils. On the floor beside the bed I could just make out a twisted lump of blankets, but I couldn’t muster up the courage to touch it. “Please don’t be dead”, I thought. I strained my ears for the sound of her sickly breath, but remembering the gut-wrenching thud that had woken me. Just as I reached for the covers to hopefully unveil my very much alive Great Aunt, something darted across the room and scurried into the closet. At least now I had something to take my mind off of the treacherous scent. However, my heart was thumping so loudly in my chest I thought whatever creature was in my Great Aunt’s closet could hear it. 

I gathered up the courage and walked warily towards the musty closet. I slid the worn-out door revealing… nothing. I pulled the cord hanging above me to turn on the flicking light illuminating all the moth-eaten outfits that my Great Aunt doesn’t wear anymore, since she is bedridden and stays in her clingy nightgown. As I poked around the closet I saw two brilliant copper eyes staring back at me. 

“Blynx”, I muttered under my breath, letting out a sigh of relief. “Come here Blynx, it’s just me.” I said, cautiously holding out my scrawny hand towards Blynx’s face. Blynx emerged from the dry corner revealing her caol-colored fur that was once pearly white. Blynx has a flat, pushed-in looking face with a rounded head, small rounded ears, and a bushy tail. Blynx wasn’t looking at me, however, she was looking at something past me. The moment I moved out of her way she sprinted under my Great Aunt’s bed as usual. I cautiously walked towards my Great Aunt’s bedside trying to avoid all of the nails sticking up out of the wooden floor and saw that the twisted mess of blankets on Aunt BeeBee’s bed were gone. 

“Why would someone steal Aunt Beebee’s probably dead body? Did someone push Blynx to make her run into the closet as a distraction?” Yes, it was the middle of an excruciating drought, but no one would be that desperate for water, or drinkable liquid, that they would murder someone. I slowly turned around on my heels to face her door and the hallway light was on. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. I never turn the hallway light on. Aunt BeeBee said her husband turned it one once, and he died. Aunt BeeBee said when he turned it on, it flickered and sparks flew from the unprotected lightbulb and landed in my Great Uncle’s hair, which caused his curly gray locks of hair to catch on fire.The flames spread across his clothes, causing fourth degree burns all across his body, until he died. Apparently my Great Uncle refused to go out of the house and buy new light bulbs, saying that the broken light wasn’t a fire hazard. I shuttered, remembering the first time Aunt BeeBee told me the gruesome story. Aunt BeeBee was always like that. She would tell me terrifying stories about death, and expect me to be able to sleep soundly that same night. 

Anyway, I knew I didn’t turn on the light. Someone was here. Someone had to be. I walked into the dingy hallway carefully avoiding the loose floorboards and stopped at the very beginning of the wooden stairs leading straight down to the rustic front door. Normally, the front door is always locked. Aunt BeeBee doesn’t go outside at all. I only go outside for food, and maybe to steal a few dollars off the filthy streets of Peachman Avenue. But the door was wide open, and a silver paperclip was still stuck in the rusty lock from when the intruder broke in. 

I creeped down the stairs, avoiding the fifth, eighth, and eleventh stair, since they were creaky and I didn’t know if the intruder was still in the house. I assumed he left, but all of the sudden, I heard the same gut-wrenching crash that woke me up. It came from the kitchen. I sprinted past the door and made a sharp left into the living room, heading straight for the kitchen. I turned on the lightswitch and the bulb came flickering to life. There, I saw a man cloaked in all black, with a few blood-stained patches. He whipped his head around to look at me but I couldn’t get a good look at his face. Curse these stupid lights. I got so scared all my blood ran straight out of my head, leaving me as pale as a ghost and feeling like I just got off a super fast spinny ride at an amusement park. The strange man walked closer to me, dropping the body bag he had slung over his shoulder. 

“I should have known you still lived here, Eliana. Too scared to leave your poor, helpless Aunt.” I said nothing, I did nothing. I just stood there in front of the man, shaking violently. I turned to run away from him but he grabbed me by the hood of my thick, black, and tattered hoodie I wore to bed. 

“You know me, and I know you. Why, I hope you didn’t forget about me. I’m your Great Uncle, Randy. How did BeeBee cover up my sudden disappearance? Death I assume. She was always so good at coming up with twisted stories like that.” I was speechless. I felt my bones turn to paper, and my legs gave out. 

“Li- li- lightbulb incident,” I whispered. I couldn’t think. I could barely breathe. 

“Hmm.” The man said, pondering what to do with me. “When your Great Aunt fell deathly ill, I saw this as my chance to get revenge. I told her all about my plan on how to survive the drought. My plan originally was to make her watch as I slit your throat and drank your blood once I ran out of water, but I couldn’t bring myself to harm a child when the time came. That time was today. So instead I slaughtered your Aunt, however I really didn’t need to. Nature was already taking its course. Anyway I was supposed to leave without a sound, but I always have been clumsy.” He chuckled. 

“I guess I need to decide what to do with you now. Maybe feed you to Blynx, she has been quite thirsty you know. You know what, that is a great idea. Tsk. Tsk. Blynx, come out, come out wherever you are.” Blynx emerged out of the shadows on top of the fridge, and jumped down, landing on all four paws and nestling up to Uncle Randy’s leg. 

“That’s my good kitty. Now, do your worst.” The cat jumped onto my face and started hacking away. I tried to pull him off my bleeding face, but Great Uncle Randy shoved me down and held my arms and Blynx attacked me. Right before I blacked out, I could hear my Great Uncle’s maniacal laugh.

August 27, 2022 00:40

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

1 comment

VJ Hamilton
21:38 Sep 03, 2022

Hi Ava, The opening description--tiptoeing on grit and crumbs--hooked me right away. And it got worse... much, much worse (in a good way!) The intruder is scary and there's a shocking betrayal. Thanks for the creepy tale!

Reply

Show 0 replies
RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. 100% free.