There was a dude 10-20-16
Who ate children stew
He looked like you
But he was a dude
“Aye you there. Little lassie isn’t not safe on the street ever since those murders” An old man called, a worried look in his eyes.
“Don’t worry your grey head! I’ll be the one to catch that cursive killer that’s stealing all those innocent children!” I call back, giggling. I jog down the street. He laugh going back to sweeping his shop porch.
“Children no longer play outside. It’s so quiet.” A voice croaks. I look over to see little old Maggie smoking a sleek pipe in a faded red rocking chair.
“You mean since the killings?” I ask.
“No,no child they stopped playing long ago. Streets used to be filled with laughter and chatter.” Maggie shook her head, ragged hair, flipping side to side. A look of disgust crossing her face.
“Children always play outside” I say, looking around. I notice the sun had disappeared behind a cloud.
“Children stop playing when there’s no one to play with”
I whip my head up to see an empty rocking chair. “Like a old vampire ninja…” I mutter to myself finishing my pursuit home.
“Mother I’m home!” Entering our small home.
“That’s great Walentyna! Come sit dear, I just finished supper.” She called. I throw my satchel next to the door, and walk into the dining room.
“Mother, did anything happen a while ago that stopped people from going outside?” I ask, pushing my food side to side. Mother’s expression turns dark.
“Well about 30 years ago, when I was a little girl, there was….disappearance of children. Snatched up from outside their home” She looked outside the open window “It was terrible, old Maggie seemed to take the about the kidnappings very hard, seeming that she had no kids. Hmm That was about the same time Maggie’s husband disappeared, he was always a soft soul”
Quickly her face became cheerful again, “Alright that’s enough. Up to bed you go! Go go go!” She picks up the plates and and shuffed me away with the wave of her hand.
I close the door to my room. I reach under my bed pulling out a leather journal. Candles light my room with a eerie yellow light.
Dear journal,
You’d never believe what I learned today, apparently there has been previous disappearances. Do you think they are related? Who could have been behind such horrendous crimes. I mean how could anyone hurt such innocent children.
Well on a lighter note, mother said that old Maggie was old when she was a little girl! I bet that old hag will outlive all of us. I can’t believe she doesn’t have lung problems from all that smoking, or at least a consent tummy ache. That woman seems to be always eating some kind of…meat. Brown chunks in red sauce. It looks disgusting but she inhales it. Once when I was little I was on her porch because I thought I saw a man inside her house and i wanted to see if anything was going on. So while I was on her porch she busted through her door and grabbed my arm. She mumbled something and dumped that horrid soup on me. It got into my eyes, into my nose. Everything was that rancid soup.
I really hope they find the killer.
It’s been a long day, and I better do my school work before the candles burn out. Goodnight journal
I stash the journal under my bed and return to my satchel, pulling a dress I was working on sewing. The candles burned away leaving me with a half finished dress that I must make at the end of the week.
The next evening I was walking home, I spotted a shadow disappearing behind Old Maggie’s window. As I walked I overheard a street guard conversation.
“Oh yeah we are barely searching for those missing kids. They don’t pay us near enough to hunt and arrest a killer. I guess if we caught a guy in the act that we would arrest him but….” The man shrugged his shoulders, as if the conversation was about a simple pair of missing socks. Anger bubbled into my chest creating a lump of disgust and hatred. These are innocent lives they are discarding. I wonder how people so cruel can-can-can exist.
With a lump in my throat I race home. Trees and homes blur past me in a never ending picture. Before I step through the door I hear singing. It wasn’t good singing, it cracked and swung but it was passionate. It sounded like a lullaby a mother would sing to her infant child.
It came from old maggie’s house. Curiosity got the better of me and I step timidly walk to Maggie’s old rugged house. I walk to a open window that the sound echoed from. Now closer to the window I could hear that the singing was coming Maggie. The sound was in a different language but i could hear the emotion in every word.
Through the window I could see Maggie standing over a large pot. The pot looked more like a cauldron, it was bronze with faded letters written on the sides and it gleamed in the afternoon light. The cauldron was positioned over the fire, the fire was contained by rocks and I could see previous scorches on the concret floors. Maggie stirs something in the pot as she sang her sad song.
My gaze searches around the room. A small coat was pressed
Against a far wall. A white sheet was thrown over a small body. Vomit burns at the back of my throat. It looks like the body of a child
I stared at Maggie, could she be the killer?? Maggie was the
bitter lady that would make inappropriate jokes at a block party, she was not a killer! Once I fell and cut my knee and Maggie got me a bandage along with some cold lemonade, she even hummed while she tied the bandage.
I gasp, it was the same song she was singing now. Who was this person I’ve known all my life? This person my mothers known all her life? How well do you really know the people around you?Maggie stops stirring the stew, now the meat chunks seems more menacing and disgusting than before. She walks into another room, her song following her.
A rush of adrenaline shot through my body speeding into my bloodstream, blinding my vision. I feel like a candle sparking alive with flames.
It only clears when I was standing in the middle of the
room, the window wide open, its curtains floating in the wind. I choked back a scream, WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL ARE YOU DOING!?! MAGGIE COULD COME BACK AT ANY SECONDS. Wildy I look around,my mind still buzzing from the energy hype. The stew had stopped boiling but the body stilled laid still. Cautiously I start to walk towards the body, the chest of the small body laid still. A paper rest on the body, it was old tinted yellow with messy handwriting. I creep forwards my shaking hand reaching at the body. The candle nearly blows out from a light breeze.
A deep breath moves the whole body. It let out a raspy sigh and the chest started to rise and fall in slow patterns.
I threw my hand back the paper rushing off the cot, my mind coming alive with fear. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I jump back, “Sweetie are you awake?” Maggie’s old voice croaks from the halls.
Terrified I sprint out the window, running as fast my trembling legs can carry me into my house, lock the doors, and into my room. I landed on the bed tears starting to run down my face.
WHAT DID I WITNESS! When daylight faded, I cry the last tear my body could produce. I curl into a ball. My arms slide over something on my bed,reaching up I see the paper that was lying on the coat, I that directions to…something
You must be in some deep shit to be needing this recipe.
I throw my head back, wow this is…interesting writing. What could Maggie need with a old paper with vulgar language.
This is horrible thing that shouldn’t be used, yet here i am writing it down with a bottle of gin spilled next to be me. If you’re in a situation where one of your DEAR loved ones is dead or dying and you would do anything to save them,even abandon your moral code then. . . this is the place you should be! I’m not going to be explaining everything, just follow these instructions and hope for the best
First you need to figure out how long you have with the person before they COMPLETELY die.
So 1 almost dead person
Then you need the main resource: Innocent children
2-5 children’s heart
Your pure, untainted tears At least a cup full
Blood from squirrels, foxes, birds,
And your person’s tongue, cut off from their mouth
Large copper pot (cauldron would be best in my experience)
That’s all you need, sickos. For the ingredients
Now the fun part! I going to hell
Take the children’s bodies, tear open the sternum, and take out their heart. It would be best if their heart’s still beating, but please. . . don’t torture the children.
Drain multiple foxes, squirrels, and birds blood (should fill at least a 4th of the cauldron)
CRY HARDCORE and collect all the tears ( 1 cup full)
Cut the tongue out and mash it into a mush
Mix all ingredients/ with water in a large cauldron. The caudron should have this phrase sketched on it “Ik moet opofferen voor degene ik hou van, maar ik wil worden gedwongen te overleven de persoon ik liefde de meest. Lijken een eeuwigheid voor een weinig meer decennia met hen”
Cauldron should have a even amount of gore and water
Boil for several hours, turn into a stew and feed to the dying person.
And there you go, a recipe to reverse death. I hope you enjoy the consequences!
I threw down the paper, hot tear streaming down my face. Images and thoughts raced through my mind until i feel like a burnt out candles, still melting wax dripping in pathetic clumps.
I lay down on my bed, curling into myself and feel into a troubled haze. I didn’t sleep that night, nor did I stay awake.
When the doves started singing, I wake up.The lump still sits on my heart, making each breath feel like challenge. Something has changed though, my heart feels hollow and empty. Like the candle burning inside me has burned itself out.
Without hesitentstion I snatch the note and stopp outside. Maggie must be stopped, I swear I will drag her to jail myself. I walk straight to the door, the note inside my hands. And knock and the door.
Knock
Knock
Knock
The door swings open to a older man standing in the door. He looks me up and down before stepping forward.
Shit
Regret and fear turns in my stomach. I didn’t have time to scream before he wraps his arms around my neck, cutting of my breathing. I struggle for breath trying to claw his arms away from my neck. Slowing my vision starts to blur, and every nerve goes numb leaving me limp. The man’s smile glows before my vision goes dark “I didn’t want to kill her you stupid idiot?” Maggies voice rang around my head. The same concert room came into view, Maggie and the same man who choked me talked in front of me. Maggie glanced at me, her eyes tired.
“Oh she’s awake” Maggie groaned, walking towards me. I tried to rush up, away from her. But i was chained down unable to move away i could still talk though. “You’re horrible, a horrible sicko!” I shout, spitting saliva at her. “What is he? Your partner? The devil himself? I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s your dead husband?”
Maggie crouched down in front of me, cupping my chin in her whither palm. “I always wanted a daughter…but i loved my son. No, i LOVE my son i will do anything for him” she smiles sadly. The man starts to pace around the cauldron. No fire was lit under the cauldron.
“I’ve always had quite the temper, so when my son wouldn’t be stop crying I…lost my temper” tears started to fall down her cheeks but she didn’t break her gaze. “I lost my temper ON MY BOY” she sobs, tightening her grip on my chin.
“I HURT MY CHILD AND NOW I MUST PAY THE CONSEQUENCES” Maggie lowers her head. The man swings his head towards her, “oh shut up maggie I HAD TO GO THROUGH IT FIRST, I HAD TO COVER IT UP FIRST!” The man scream, walking away from the room.
Maggie clears her throat before looking back at me. “But a mother’s love is the strongest love and I’m willing to do anything to save my boy” She let go of my chin and stood up.
I tried to jerk away but the chains held tight. I managed to fall over, seeing past the large cauldron. I could see Maggie sitting on the edge of the small cot. The sheet was gone, and there laid a young boy.
He had dark hair with pale skin like Maggie, he was dressed in slacks with a dark shirt. It was of old fashion but looked very clean. I thought he was dead before i saw a shallow breath raise his chest. Maggie took the boy in her arms and cradled his head.
“So my husband found this recipe” the chains rattle as try to sit up again. “God knows where he found it but he told me it works and…my son had just thrown up so much blood so…he did it” Maggie stroked his hair.
Maggie collapsed in on herself, still holding on to her son. “And it worked, my son was alive. He was mute and his father had a great burden over his head. We learned they don’t age,they stay the age”
“So my son and his father moved away, leaving me with the horrors” Maggie sighed, more tears streaming down her face. “But i guess it doesn’t last forever…” she laughs bitterly. “He fell ill again and this time his father wasn’t going to save him”
She turn suddenly, “Can you believe that! He said OUR son wasn’t worth other kids lives” angry flashed in her eyes. “My child is everything to me, more important than everyone else” she nuzzled her chin in his hair. “He came back, unwilling to kill. His father threw threw recipe at me and dragged him in” she sniffed for a few moments
“I managed to convince him to stay around JUST till our child wakes up. Then I started the ritual, we used most of his tongue, but a bit was left.” I close my eyes, willing for maggie to say this was all a big joke and that I’m going to be okay”
“And i started to kill the kids, they were easy to lure away. Easy to kill, not easy to cut their heart out. That part was messy.” Maggie lays the boy on the bed, softly kissing him on the head.
She limps towards me, ” i used to eat a simplified version of the soup. Cow hearts, so i would have training on how to make the soup again” She walks over to the cauldron, pulling something out of it.
“And the training has done me good. And all those unsuspecting kids have made it easy. But now parent know what’s going on, so they don’t leave their kids out” I try to crawl farther away from her but I’m stuck in place.
“The magic will soon run out if i don’t do anything soon”
A hand grabs my hair, yanking my neck back. A pain pierces my sternum, cracking my weak ribs open. I could feel the snap of the bones and the rip through flesh. The pain quick pain soon turns into a numb throb, and my vision darkens. Not before I see a heart, bleeding and pulsing in Maggie’s hand, a sad smile across her face.
………………….
When I wake I see my mother’s face hovering over me. But her face had aged. Her once dark hair fell in ragged clumps. I open my mouth to speak, to ask what had happen, ask where i was but nothing came out. She shushes me pulling my head into her crippled arms.
“It’s okay baby, i took care of everything for you, ANYTHING for you” She lulls, stroking my head.
A happy smile crosses over my face. Everything was alright
Very serene 