The Boxes
I step out of my house for the first time in two days. The sun has never seemed so bright. I'm dreading today, I don't want to go through my crazy grandma's house. No one else wants to, so I have to. I get in my car, turn it on, and drive oh so very happily to my granny's house. I get to the door and knock out of habit, maybe her ghost will appreciate that. It's musty and dirty, dirty like someone else has been here. I check the house thinking it was a raccoon or something, but raccoons can't pull down the ladder to the attic, can they? I go up the ladder to the attic, mustier than the rest of the house. It's absolutely thrashed. The only thing that seemed to be left in order were some small chained and locked boxes. The boxes looked to be meant for dolls, but why would each individual be chained? I look at one box that didn't have a lock, strewn away from the rest. My gut tells me that it's a bad idea to open it, but I ignore it. What's the creepy box gonna do? Eat me? I open the box and there was an odd looking fairy doll with its eyes closed. It wasn't cute and friendly looking like you would think a fairy to be, it was demonic and life-like. I poke its face. Squishy like it's a real face. The doll's eyes snapped open and it opened its mouth and emitted a horrible screech, lunging for my face. I smack it out of the air like someone would smack a pesky mosquito. It falls to the ground twitching, so I stomped it to make sure it was dead. The rest of the chained, locked boxes began to rattle aggressively. I jumped down from the attic, making sure to close it behind me, and ran out of the house. I hopped in my car and drove away as fast as possible. Shit, all I wanted to do was get this over with, but now the house is gonna be filled with demon fairies. Maybe I can just throw a bug bomb in there, treat them like roaches, but what if they're immune to that? God damnit.










