r/shortscarystories
12 hr. ago
Wellsong
Mrs. Johnson's wise decision
Stacy Johnson watched the five candles flicker on her cake with avid, fire-bright eyes, her round cheeks dimpling as her
smile grew bigger and bigger. Three tiers of chocolate sponge, iced with swirling blue and pink buttercream and
decorated with white chocolate buttons: the apogee of Mrs. Johnson’s baking efforts. Stacy’s school friends bounced
in their seats. They’d played the games, they’d watched Stacy tear open her presents, and now it was time for the party
to pay dividends. A few of them had had to be pulled back from reaching for the cake before the candles were even lit.
“Make a wish,” Stacy’s mum said, fumbling with the camera app on her phone. Stacy squeezed her eyes closed, an
expression of reverent
concentration wiping the dimples smooth. She sucked in a deep
breath, her chest swelling—and released the gathered air in one long
whoosh. Mrs. Johnson’s index finger brushed the touchscreen of her
phone. There was a soft click as the phone mimicked a shutter
closing, half a second before the last candle went out.
Then the electric lights went out too. It should have been bright
outside, but only wispy twilight was seeping through the windows. All
the children except the birthday girl made noises of alarm and
consternation.
“I made my wish!” Stacy declared, her voice cutting into the murmurs
all around her. Mrs. Johnson opened her mouth to answer, but all she
could manage was a soft croak as dark shapes erupted from the
corners of the room, huge and twisted, and seized the children sitting
around the table. The children screamed, their terror melding into a
shuddering wall of sound, but there was nothing they could do to
resist what was happening to them. The screams receded as they
were torn away into—through—the floor and the walls and the ceiling
by the shadowy creatures, until the dark was silent and peaceful and
empty again.
The light came back as quickly as it had disappeared, flicking the
room back to normalcy in an instant. Midday sun swept across the
balloons and the banners and the cake and Stacy Johnson’s pleased
hungry expression. But all the other children were gone, as if they’d
never been part of the scene at all.
“Now the cake’s all for me,” said Stacy, dimpling anew. “Unless…do you
want some, Mummy?”