Villisca

[_Veritas_]

Villisca

By Joshua Malone

1948 Villisca, Iowa

The woman lay in the soft bed, her husband next to her. She felt a chill creep over her body and pulled the blanket closer to her body. It was as if she was trying to become the blanket itself in hopes that it would make her warmer. She also scooted over towards where she could feel her husband lying beside her, wanting to catch some of his body heat as well. But despite all these efforts, she couldn’t shake the coldness.

The house they lived in was old, and had lain dormant for years before they moved in. Neither of them knew why; it was a nice home. Big, two stories, and it had nice cellar as well. When they had moved in the house did need some cleaning- dusting, polishing, the like. Things that were needed after being empty for so many years. The two of them had moved in three weeks ago. The woman was in her thirties and the man in his forties. She was also several months pregnant, and would soon be giving birth to a baby boy. The two of them already had the child’s room picked out, and soon would be going to work setting up the necessities and painting it.

The town that the house sat on the outskirts of was a nice, quiet establishment. Very modest. But there seemed to be a kind of forebodingness to it all the same. The wife had talked to many of the people in town already, and most of them seemed to be fairly welcoming. But even so, they seemed to be hiding something. She wasn’t alone in this observation either. Her husband had noticed this seemingly overladen sense of secrecy the town and the people who resided in and around it seemed to be conveying. But the man thought little of it, chalking it up to the fact that despite everything, he and his wife were still outsiders. Eventually they would be welcomed into the society, and this feeling would go away. The woman was still mildly apprehensive though. She had noticed that all the conversations she had had seemed to grow chilled once she had mentioned which house her and her husband had moved into….

The woman breathed, keeping her eyes closed. She was tired, very tired. Her eyes were heavy and she wanted nothing more than to drift into a deep sleep for the night. But this sudden chill was causing her to feel uncomfortable, in more ways than one. First off, she was cold. Her teeth gave a mild chatter as she breathed out. But then she was also unnerved. She thought that she could feel something, or someone watching her. Her eyes rolled open, and looked up at her wall. Above her bed was a crucifix, and she knew that someone was indeed watching her. The woman mumbled a soft prayer, smiled, and went to bed after wrapping herself even tighter into the quilt.

The hours slowly slipped past, and darkness engulfed the landscape outside. A crescent moon was perched high in the sky. A soft, cold fall breeze moved swiftly along. Dead leaves that had fallen to the ground fluttered and the trees from which they had fallen swayed slightly under the push of the circulating air.

The shades of the bedroom were drawn, so that the moonlight could filter in. The moon casted shadows of the nearby tree in through the window and as the tree limbs moved so did their shadows in the room that were being filtered through the window.

The window itself was closed, keeping the autumn air outside. But still, the room was cold and as the two persons in bed breathed. As they slept their breath could be seen ever so faintly. Both of them had unconsciously pulled the sheets and overlaying quit as tightly as they could to their bodies. The quilt usually overlapped the rim of the bed when it was not in use, but now it was nearly all being used in a somewhat futile attempt to keep warm. The woman was still shivering slightly. Her body under the coverings was actually fine, but it was her face that was cold, due to the fact that it was exposed to the night air. She was currently debating pulling all the coverings over her head. Her eyes were still shut as she contemplated the notion.

Thud.

The woman’s eyes opened slightly. They were incredibly weighed down by tiredness. It was like some opposing force was protesting against her opening her eyes, but she knew she was just tired. She also knew that she had just heard something. Or had she? It sounded like a loud thud, as if something hit the wooden stairs or a footsteps or something. But it could have been her imagination.

Thud.

No, she knew now that she had heard something. What could it be? The house was old, and could very easily be settling itself. Something downstairs could have fallen. A fleeting question in her mind passed through. Did we lock the doors?

The woman soon remembered that she herself had indeed locked the doors. And she was pretty confident that nobody would be compelled to break into the house. They had nothing of value.

Several long moments passed, and the woman just lay in bed with her eyes half open and half shut. No more sounds came from downstairs, and she became more and more confident that it had been really nothing. And as she became more confident, her eyes continued getting heavier and heavier until they shut completely.

The woman breathed in deeply, and squeezed the sheets tightly around her as she did so once more. Her left hand went to her belly, and she caressed it. It was round, and she couldn’t help but smile at the notion that it was her child inside her. She’d gone through several years watching all her friends back home having families of their own, and going through the whole process. Undeniably she had been jealous of them, and even though coveting was a sin… she couldn’t help it. She wanted a family of her own. And finally that prayer was answered.

Soon the woman fell back into sleep, still smiling.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The woman was awoken once again but a sudden rhythmic pulsation against her bladder. The baby was kicking. This sensation made her have to go to the bathroom really badly, and she moaned in protest. She didn’t want to open her eyes and even more so, she did not want to leave the comforting warmth of the sheets and venture out into the cold hallway. Just the thought of stepping foot onto the icy cold, wooden floor sent a shiver up her back.

But as that shiver ran its course, the baby was compelled to kick again and the sensational need to pee was becoming greater and greater. The woman groaned again in the darkness, and her husband remained unaffected as she rolled over and opened her eyes.

A tall dark figure stood looming three feet away from the woman’s side of the bed. As the woman’s eyes fell on the figure, the head tilted to the side and she could see the hint of a smirk in the shadows of the face. The eyes of this remained unseen, but she had the distinct feeling that they were looking at her… in fact, she felt as if they were looking through her.

And the figure was holding an ax.

In one swift action the figure reared back, lifted the ax, and the ax swung down towards the head of the woman.

The woman let out a shrill scream, and lifted her heads towards her face to block the attack she knew was coming.

A second passed, and the woman let out another shrill scream, and another not noticing that no ax had come down on her yet. Perhaps she was just not feeling the pain? The pregnant woman kept screaming over and over again. The man, who had been sleeping beside her, her husband, had been jolted awake by the first one. The first scream had hit his ear badly, as well as startled him. When he had jerked upwards his head hit the headboard of the bed.

“What!” the man shouted. He looked around the dark room, seeing only shadows that were being casted by the moon outside. “WHAT!” he screamed again, as his wife screamed again. The man fumbled around, knocking things over as he tried to turn on his bedside light. All the while his wife continued screaming, and had even started to flail her arms around, as if warding something away. But she wasn’t looking. Her eyes were firmly closed shut.

The man rolled back over and grabbed hold of his wife’s hands. “Stop!” he yelled. “Stop, there is nobody here! What’s wrong!?” His wife continued screaming though, and he suddenly noticed a stench that made him wrinkle his nose. She had urinated all over the bed. “WAKE UP!”

“She’s gonna’ be all right,” the doctor said. The doctor was a tall, balding, round man in his late fifties. The doctor shifted his weight from one side to the next as he talked to the man. The doctor sighed as he removed his glasses and rubbed his temples. “What happened again?” he asked.

“I…” the man said. “I honestly don’t know exactly what happened. I woke up, and she was acting like she was forcing someone away. But there wasn’t anybody there.”

“Nobody?”

“Yes, nobody,” the man repeated irritably. He had to have told this story ten times by now. He got the same response from people each time- confused and unbelieving looks. “Nobody was in the room with us. Shadows were being casted by the trees outside, and I suppose that’s what caused it.”

“I see,” the doctor said. He shifted his weight again, and put his glasses back on his face. “Well, I’d close the shades then from now on. ‘Cause if your wife has a fright like that again, she’ll loose the baby.”

Both men were standing outside the bedroom. The woman rested now in the bed. The sheets had been changed long ago by the husband, hours before the doctor finally arrived. The man had made the phone call as soon as his wife had finally stopped screaming. The man had called the local sheriff, claiming there had been an intrusion. The sheriff called the doctor before leaving, around three thirty-seven A.M. The sheriff now waited downstairs, sitting in a chair. He was a barrel chested man, and his features were sharp. He wasn’t in uniform, but instead he had thrown on a flannel shirt and jeans before leaving his house. It was now six fifteen A.M, and the coffee that he had been nursing was becoming colder and colder by the second. Dark bags were under his eyes, but he kept his lids wide open. His eyes darted around the front room. His posture was one of composure and confidence, but his eyes told a different story….

The two men came slowly down the stairs, as quietly as they could. The husband had to remember to do so. When the sheriff arrived on the scene he had walked quickly up the stairs, and the woman started screaming again, afraid that the “attacker” was returning.

Once they were one the floor the men sighed and then walked over to the sitting officer. Daylight filtered through the window and doorframe. The air outside was cool, but warming as the sun continued to rise. It had just started peeking over the horizon.

“I checked the cellar,” the sheriff said. “I didn’t find anybody.”

“Thanks,” the husband said. After a moment he added, “what about the attic?” The husband noticed that the doctor shot the sheriff a quick look before the officer answered.

“The attic as well,” the sheriff said. He looked from the man to the doctor, as if to assure them both. “David,” the sheriff said, referring to the man, “there is nobody here.”

The man sighed.

There was a long silence, and the man noticed that the doctor and the sheriff were exchanging glances once more. The sheriff saw the man looking, and lifted his mug to take a sip of his lukewarm coffee. Something clicked in the man’s head.

“She, my wife, said something about an axe,” the man said.

At this the officer coughed some of his coffee back into the cup, and the doctor stared at him as if the sheriff had done something wrong.

“David,” the doctor said. “There was nobody here. There are no signs of forced entry, no marks… I’m positive your wife just saw a shadow and it spooked, obviously really bad.” The doctor stopped. “She may have heard a story or two from a few of the old hags in town and just-“

“No,” the man snapped. “She didn’t. Neither of us has heard any stories about anything, at least not something that would frighten us.” By now the man had started to look questioningly at the two men before him, and rightfully so. His gaze shifted from one to the next. The sheriff wiped some coffee off his chin with his shirt sleeve.

“Some hot coffee,” the sheriff muttered, not looking right into David’s gaze.

“Are there stories I should be aware of?” the man asked.

“No,” the doctor said. “And that’s the point,” he added on quickly. “We have a bunch of superstitious ladies ‘round here. Some of the younglings even refer to them as witches. Susan McCrae, Landis Brown, ya’ know. That ole’ group. They come up with stories to keep the youngsters in line, but they tell them to anyone with the ear to listen ya’ see.” The doctor paused, shaking his head up and down slightly- as if indicating that David was to do the same action. His mouth hung slightly open as he breathed. He had talked fairly fast, and was somewhat out of breath. “Heh,” the doctor added. “Stick around, you’ll see. Just a bunch of crazy bats.”

David nodded once.

There was another bout of silence, and then the sheriff stood, setting the mug down on the table that was close by.

“Well,” he said, “I best be getting to the station and check in on things. Maybe head over to the diner and get a cup o’ Joe to start the day.” The husband looked over at the mug and saw that it was half full.

“Well, thank you guys for your help,” David said.

“Not a problem,” the sheriff said. And the men shook hands and the officer began to leave.

The doctor walked up. “Just keep her in bed for most of the day, she needs rest. Call or come by the office if you need anything else.”

“Will do.”

And with that, both the doctor and the sheriff left. David stood in the wooden door frame of the house, arms folded over his chest as he watched the two men leave.

The man drove his truck down the main road in Villisca. He’d taken the day off work to care for his wife, and his boss wasn’t too pleased with him. But he could get over it. Honestly, Dave didn’t want to take the day off but he felt it was his duty to. Once the conclusion had been made that his wife may have just seen a shadow he was actually a little upset. An hour ago he walked upstairs slowly and found her awake in bed, just staring out the open doorway. He had walked in, sat down at the end of the bed and explained what had happened to her.

The fact that she thought she had seen something didn’t upset him; it was her stubbornness which did that. She refused to even consider the idea that she may have seen a shadow of a tree or something else. She swore she had seen a man standing there, and that he was going to kill her with an axe. She swore it, over and over again. In fear that she’d work herself up again the man had to shush her, like he would a child.

The man sighed as he drove his truck through the main street, shaking his head. Up ahead was the hardware store, where he would end up stopping. As he came closer to the store, he turned on his turn signal and slowly slowed his car so that he could park in one of the open spots in front of the store. He was going to buy a saw. His old one was not only rusted but really worn down as well, to the point where it could barely even cut a twig. The man was intending to cut down the branches that were outside the bedroom window that had caused all of this.

Dave stepped inside of the small hardware store, gave a quick nod to the three men at the counter who also returned the nod, and strode towards the saws. The store was packed full of tools of all kinds as well as other necessities such as tape, paints, rope, chains, and various greases; the stuff that helped rural Iowa run (stuff that helped the farmers out mainly.) The man quickly picked out a hand saw, and walked back up to the front again. The ladder that the man had back at the old house was still in good condition. It was a fairly new wood ladder that he had actually bought only two months before hand. He had wanted a new ladder before the move to have at the new house. The ladder they owned before that was seven years old and he no longer felt safe standing on it beyond six feet.

Once to the counter, Chuck Bigsby who was behind the counter rang the man up. The two other men continued to lounge around. Dave recognized them, but couldn’t remember their names to save his life. They were both relatively gangly men. One of them was dressed in brown overalls and a blue shirt, and the other was wearing a dirty flannel shirt with some blue jeans. The flannel man also had a tan cap on that was covered in grease.

“Heard about the wife,” the man with the flannel shirt said. Both Chuck and the third man shot the guy a look. Dave just stood there, waiting for Chuck to finish ringing him up.

“Oh?” Dave said. “What did ya’ hear?”

“Nothin’ really, just that she had a bad fright is all.”

“Yeah, she was spooked by some limbs outside. Why I’m getting the saw, gonna’ cut the limbs down.”

“That’s smart thinkin’,” the third man chimed in. “Don’t want something like this happening again, what with the baby and all-“

“Seven thirty-five,” Chuck announced loudly. Dave was happy to pull out the cash and hand it over. He handed Chuck eight dollars, and the change was quickly handed back. “Ya have a nice day Dave, and take care.”

“Will do Chuck,” Dave said. “Thanks,” and then he started walking towards the door.

Just as Dave started to open the door to leave the flannel shirted man who had spoken before piped up again, trying to be quiet.

“Maybe he should go across the street and get her some diapers; with the accident she had last night and all-”

Dave stopped, and turned his head slightly to the left. He could see the three men behind him over his shoulder. The man who was speaking had stopped, and Dave could see a slight flushed tone in his face. In Dave’s right hand he gripped the saw handle hard, until his knuckles were white.

“What was that?” Dave said

“N-nothing. Didn’t say a thing Dave,” the man said.

“Yeah…”

Dave stood there in the open doorframe for a few moments. Silence engulfed the entire store it seemed. The flannel shirted man noticed Dave’s grip on the saw.

Then Dave took a step forward, and left the hardware store.

Dave stormed out of the store, slamming the door shut. The glass in in the frame rattled, but didn’t shatter.

As he walked over to his truck, he tossed the saw into the bed of it. The bed of the truck was littered with dead leaves as well as a pair of work gloves and a spare tire. It was relatively clean beyond that though. The saw landed in the metal bed with a loud clang.

The man opened the cab door and climbed in, slamming that door as well. He muttered a curse word and slammed his palm against the steering wheel. After a moment of waiting he did the same action again. Dave lifted his head, and looked down the sidewalk. His eyes were still burning with rage.

From a block down he saw three elderly women walking along. The three women stood fairly straight actually, and despite that two of them used canes none of them walked with that typical old person shuffle. They walked… confidently.

Dave knew exactly who they were. The three “witches” of Villisca. Susan McCrae, Landis Brown, and the third was Marian Powers. Landis Brown, the only black woman of the bunch, walked slightly ahead of the other two. Her cane was a dark reddish brown, and despite the fact that she had been using it for years there was no apparent ware on either end. Pristine and old, almost like herself. Other people who were on the sidewalk nearly parted like the Red Sea as they passed. It was as if they were lepers. Dave continually watched the three women walk towards where he had parked his car. He debated getting out for all of two seconds, before actually getting out.

As Dave walked up to the women, they stopped together. The three decrepit hags stood there; the Fates of Villisca. Landis still stood a little in front of the others on the sidewalk, as if she led the group. The way they stood there as he approached was as if they already knew what he was going to ask. The man felt uneasy as he walked towards them, he could feel their sunken eyes peeling back the layers of his skin.

The man stopped a few feet in front of the leader of the horde. There was a slight silence for a moment as he stood there. The women just stared at him. Other people passed on the other side of the street on the sidewalk. A few of them, as they walked by, turned their heads to look. Nobody ever approached these three ladies outside of church. Actually, few people approached them in church. They were known for being crotchety, as well as overly superstitious- or so Dave had heard. His wife often came home and told him stories that she had happened to overhear or on seldom occasion be a part of conversation. It was okay to believe in God and Judgment Day in Church, but apparently if you talked about it seriously outside of that building or fellowship you’d be labeled as crazy. And these three women never stopped talking about God, Jesus, the rapture, spiritual wars, and the like.

“We heard about your wife,” Marian piped in the back. She was the only one without a cane, and stood as solid as a rock.

“Most people have,” Dave muttered bitterly. Nothing in this town was a secret.

“An unfortunate event,” Landis said. “But the baby is okay.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes,” Dave said. “Just have to keep it from happening again. I actually came into town and bought a saw. I’ma saw off the branches outside the house when I get back to make sure-”

“Oh that’s not the problem, David,” Landis croaked. “What you’re wanting to stop is inside the house.”

“Landis!” Susan McRae hissed.

“Well the man ought to know ‘bout what goings on happened there,” Landis said back to Susan. “If he want to save the baby.” Landis spoke oddly to David’s ears. Her voice was compelling, yet chilling at the same time. The sound of age was ever present, but it was more than just her age. It was as if something had been passed from person to person through the ages, and now she was responsible for it. Her voice seemed like a blessing and a curse.

“What happened in my house?” the man asked.

“Years ago,” Landis started, “there was eight people, a husband and wife and six children, who were murd-”

“Hello ladies!” said an approaching man. It was the sheriff. “And Dave! How is your wife doing?”

“She’s…” Dave started. “She’s fine. I just came into town to get a saw to cut down those limbs outside the window.”

“Good, good,” the sheriff said.

“Perhaps you’d want to cut the tree down,” Landis said. A smirk appeared on the wrinkled face. Both men looked at her. “In that case, you’d probably want an axe…” The other two women smirked as well.

The sheriff took Dave by the shoulder and led him away. “Have a nice day ladies,” the sheriff shouted back as he and Dave walked away. “Crazy hags,” he muttered. “Now you get home and tend to your wife Dave.”

“Okay Mel,” Dave said.

Dave hopped in his truck and started it up. The sheriff stood there waving as Dave backed out, as if making sure he was actually going to leave and go home. As Dave grove away he looked back at the sidewalk.

The three women were gone, and a few leaves danced across the ground where they had been.

As night rolled in Dave made a glass of hot cider for his wife as well as one for himself; he wanted to leave this day behind. A few hours ago she had actually gotten out of bed and ventured downstairs.

The tree had been a little more difficult to deal with than expected for some reason earlier. The branches almost refused to be cut, and it was a new blade! That itself was odd, as was something else the man had actually found outside next to the house. It was an interesting plant. It was fairly tall and bright red. He’d never seen anything like it. It was perplexing, and David wondered how he, or his wife for that matter, could have ever missed that plant. She was outside usually every day, trying to pick out the best location for her garden next to the house once she had the baby. He knew for sure that she would have said something about it by now, and when he had asked her about it she swore she’d never seen a red plant before.

It was now about nine forty, and he was yawning in response to a yawn his wife had given only moments ago. Despite being in bed nearly all day, she was still tired. And though the man was still a little upset about this entire event, he couldn’t blame her. In the end it was a mistake. He was still perturbed about her not willing to accept that she really hadn’t seen anything, but he figured it wasn’t worth fighting about.

The man got up from his seat and strode over to his wife and helped her up. After that he helped her up the stairs and towards the bedroom. Once in the room the man quickly undressed and put on his pajamas. His wife was already crawling into bed. She hadn’t gotten dressed today, and really had no need to.

After he was finished he crawled into be next to his wife and wrapped her up in his arms. “I love you,” he said.

“Love you too,” she managed to mutter before drifting to sleep. The man couldn’t help but smile.

Hours passed and night engulfed the land. The moon was high in the sky, but the room was fairly dark except for the little bit of light that entered under the shade from the window. Despite having spent nearly an hour and a half cutting off the limbs, the man still wanted to be sure that no shadows could creep into the room tonight.

The man slightly snored as his wife lay quietly next to him. The man shifted his weight on the bed, and the bed caused the flood boards to creek. And then he lay still.

Creek.

One of the man’s eyes shot open. That was not from the bed. That sound came from the hallway.

The man carefully moved the blankets off of him and stepped onto the cold wooden floor of the bedroom. He waited for a few moments before taking his first step towards the hallway.

Dave reached the threshold of the door and stood there in the shadows. He hoped that his wife didn’t wake up, because if she saw a dark figure in the doorframe she was liable to have another attack. As he thought this he looked around as best he could in the hall. Light from the moon filtered in from the downstairs windows. But he still couldn’t see anything. There was nothing here.

The man slowly retreated back to the room, and walked over to his closet and opened the door. He reached his hand into the darkness and pulled out a long object. It was a shotgun.

After he shut the door of the closet, he walked back over to his side of the bed and sat in the chair that was positioned next to his nightstand. He rested the shotgun against the wall and folded his arms. The wind outside had picked up slightly, and there was a slight whistling sound coming in through the window. The man sat in the darkness of the night staring out the bedroom door. He could faintly hear leaves dancing around outside as he sat there in the quiet.

The man’s eyes started to grow heavy once more after ten minutes of sitting in the chair. The whistling of the wind outside had slowly turned into a lullaby of sorts. The man snorted, thinking that he was just spooked and that he should just get back in bed. There was nothing here. He should just get back in bed…

But he didn’t make it back to the bed. Instead, he fell asleep in the chair.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

It was now three sixteen A.M. The wind outside had stopped blowing finally, and the house now rested comfortably on its foundation, not wanting to budge an inch.

The man lay in the chair, his neck craned backwards as he slept. He wife was alone in the giant bed. Despite there being no wind at all, the room was freezing and the woman was now huddled under all the sheets. The man slept in his seat, and sudden a cold rush of air swept by him causing him to shiver. Unwillingly the man started to awake from his sleep in the chair, surprised to find that he was still sitting in it. He thought he had made his way back to the bed earlier. Dave breathed, and as he breathed out he shivered again. I need to get into bed.

Dave got up out of his seat, and started towards the bed. But his eyes caught something out in the hall before he made one step. David could see the shape of a man in the hallway. It wasn’t moving at all; it was just there. David felt a deep and sudden rage within him as he slowly extended back his arm for the gun he had propped against the wall. He hoped that whoever this was could not see him. He wanted to get at least one shot off. As he reached back he saw the figure move slightly, and he could make out the distinct shape of an axe that the man had lifted up. This action caused David to move a little faster, and once he had ahold of the gun he took a step forward.

Something grabbed David’s ankle from under the bed with a powerful force, enough to trip him. David fell to the ground, dropping the gun and hitting his head on the floor hard. He looked up at the door and didn’t see the axe man anymore, but his shift quickly shifted to under the bed.

Nothing was there. Not that he could see. A lace overhang ran around the whole bed, and David couldn’t see under the bed directly, but there was nothing physically there at the moment. The man looked back at the hall and still didn’t see the other man with the axe anymore. He redirected his eyes to the bed.

A woman crawled quickly out from under the bed screaming, and trying to latch onto David’s legs. She screamed loudly, and he could see that a huge gash split her head open at an angle. Blood seeped freely from the wound onto the floor, and David could also see inside the split head. Fear had a grip on David as he was trying to crawl away, and this fear kept him from throwing up.

The woman continued to scream and claw, her nails dug into David’s calves so much that he was sure the skin had broken.

David quickly tried to kick the woman off of him and get up, only to be tripped by her again and fall backwards. His head hit the ground behind him and he jerked his head back up.

The woman was gone. She wasn’t there. There was also no blood on the floor. David stared in complete amazement, and then looked down at his legs. His pajama pants were not torn at all, but for some odd reason he could still feel a stinging.

David sat there for a moment, completely dumb founded. Then he laid back, and let his head rest against the ground.

There, standing over him, was a man. And suddenly, with a quick motion, the man lifted an axe high in the air and brought it down towards David’s head while David let out a cry of terror.

Soon after the attack the man grabbed his shotgun up and searched the house. He had not been hit by the axe, but come to find out he did have scratch marks on his legs that were bleeding. After that he told his wife what had happened. Neither of them slept again that night, and instead spent the rest of the time packing.

The next day the man and the woman packed up all necessities that they had in the house into the truck. Later they would come back for more, but they could no longer stay in this house. The couple locked all windows and doors, and pulled all the blinds before leaving.

Outside, the temperature was lukewarm, and the leaves laid scattered all over the ground in the yard. The branches that the man had cut down from the tree that stood outside the window of the main bedroom upstairs sat in a pile near the base of the tree. As they drove away from the house in the early afternoon, the wife couldn’t help but give a quick look back.

By the tree that stood by the main window, was the bright red plant. The one her husband had asked her about. As she had told him the day before she had never seen it before. The woman was then amazed by it the moment she set her eyes on it, but forced her eyes to be lifted off of the blood red foliage the plant produced. She looked up at the main room’s window, and to her surprise the shades had been pulled up. And in the frame of the window, staring down at her with cold black eyes was a man who was covered in blood that was the same shade of red the plant outside was. The man stood there, a cigarette in his hand, and he waved to her as they drove off.

[Ridesandstuff]

Nice story. Very interesting