A month of Nightmares in the Area of Horror continues! Within 30 days (and nights!) we times a day published one short story horror. Read the little scary stories Maxim Kabir – and be sure to read his great novel, “Skeletons”, which is called one of the best horror books in recent years!
Maxim Kabir. Last
In July ninety-third year, uncle Yegor – he lived next door to grandma, and beat the swab. It has a broken leg and a bump, actually. Me about this Sasha told another grandma’s neighbor. Actually, not a neighbor – she, like me, were the town and the village came for the holidays. And her about Bannik’s grandfather said. He’s like house, only in the bath lives, and if not steam, it you and to can. However, the grandmother said it was all nonsense, uncle Egor went to the bath went, and the regiment fell, but I like to think about the Bannik. What his beard is like a sponge – and bulging eyes, and fangs. Good thing grandma’s bath no, but I probably would be afraid. I on the first day of arrival, as Sasha talked to the fence ran, and looked at Egorov bath. It burdock overgrown and the window is small and if I looked at someone from the window, and I was scared.
Nothing has changed in the village. Nothing that I experienced. Almost fell out of the car: well, where do you fly? – mom cried, and dad said let fly. The same gate blue, followed by six steps down, and the yard. Apple, currant. Frosya great-grandmother sitting in his chair, in front of the gate, she know what old! And I, as always, says: Oh, Lukas arrived, a beautiful, dark-haired. I have her cheek kissed and cheek warm and dry as a leaf from a herbarium. Grandma jumped forward, and, as in all past times, her hands were in the flour, and, like all past times, she complained, had lunch, groped me and complained, and she smelled of baking and the sun, and I kissed her on the temple. Aunt then he jumped, it upset me that my sister’s this year will not, sister is in camp. I kissed aunt. Polkan I found out, tail wagging, and we cuddled for a long time, I also kissed her on the nose with salt. So we all met up again, and mom and dad didn’t swear in that day, and all sat at the table and smiled to everyone.
You know, I love to sleep on the stove. Oven still warm and smells of bread. I like lying in the cave – aunt always underlies a lot of blankets at the bottom is lamb skin. I’m gettin ‘ hard and listen to what the house says. And he wheezing like an old man, clicks, snorts. Night, creaking floorboards. Looking askance grandfather Grisha, he died before I was born. That is, in the dark I don’t see his picture, but it’s there, and my grandfather looks at me, and maybe wants to kiss. I stick my head out of the cave, and outside the Windows tree like a claw, such splayed branches, and shadows crawling across the room. Shadow’s fingers touch the shadow-claws windowsill, Desk, scratching, groping. They move to me now climb on the stove, and I crawl under the covers and pressed against the back wall.
In an empty bath, sitting red-eyed grandfather, bares his sharp teeth, and waiting when someone will break the rules.
Today we dined on the veranda, me, grandma and aunt. And mom and dad went to the movies and I didn’t bring, I even cried a little, but they said that the film is for adults. Grandmother baked the cakes, I love them very much, they sneezing if powdered sugar gets into the nose. I drank tea and looked through the fence into the bath uncle Yegor, on the window, until it’s dark. Parents came and also drank tea, and I put my head down on Papa’s lap. Insects buzzed, and the darkness was dense-dense on the outside, but the porch light was flashing, and no one could get in here, no feet-the shadows or the old man of the neighborhood baths. I felt very good, and I thought to close my eyes to listen to what adults say. My mom told me about the movie, heroes born dead child, and instead bad people slipped to the heroes of the Antichrist. He was angry and he hanged nanny, and even under the hair he had the number 666. I wanted to run to the mirror and check my numbers under the hair, but I lay with bated breath and thought that the Antichrist was born.
Two days after the Antichrist is born, Sasha went to the river. There is a willow, old as great-grandmother Frosya, with such huge roots, like chairs, and we sat between the roots. Sasha said that the tree is our Kingdom, here we are king and Queen, and if someone will come and sit on our chairs-thrones, we kill him. I asked, how are we going to kill those who will come to sit on chairs, thrones, and Sasha said knives.
Night out of the door, because the people descend from the chain of dogs, and they’re running around the street. Sasha said that she many times went, and nothing. When supper was over and the parents went into the house, I went to the gate, past great-grandmother Frosya. She was asleep in his wicker chair, resting his chin on his chest. And aunt had, and grandmothers, and even Polkan. I climbed the stairs and fear heart sank and somehow at the same time in the throat. I unlocked the gate and went outside, very dark and very empty. Stood and watched until I began to feel that the trees are hiding hunched figure, and someone called to me: Maxim, go, go, go here. And I went because I could not go, such a gentle voice, and white eyes glowed in the dark, and I walked to the trees, which meandered shaggy figure, but something barked loudly, and I woke up, not understanding. I was standing twenty meters from the gate, and Polkan licked my hands and as if beckoned back to the house, and we ran with him down the six stairs to safety. And when they passed near the great-grandmother by Frosya, she woke up and said, “Culicini you got eaten, stupid.” I thought about them lying on the stove. About those figures and about the Polkan, who saved me.
Culicini climbed over the fence, but the great-grandmother Frosya said special words, they growled and left.
I fear very much. The tree outside the window, strange figures in the dark, Bannik, and geese, and I have to kill with a knife, who sits on our throne from the roots, and that dad will leave my mom. And I’m afraid that next year things will change. Repainted the gate, move furniture, carry the empty chair grandmother Frosya. I’m afraid that my grandmother’s hands will not be stained with flour, that Sasha will not come to the village and Culicini will not come to frighten me to call. I am a grandmother, a aunt, a whole Polkan, a great-grandmother, the Frosya, maybe for the last time and run to the fence to say goodbye to Sasha. I guess I’d like to kiss her, but we do the secret handshake of the king and Queen, and all. Grandfather Yegor sitting on the porch, his leg in a cast, he waved after us, and I wave to him and look at the bath, overgrown with burdock, and expect that someone, at least someone will look at me.
Already on sale – SKELETONS Maxim Kabir!
About the book:
Maxim Kabir is a writer, poet, anarchist. Selfless fan of the genre of horror and mystery. People with stories which are familiar to ALL fans of horror. The novel, which is compared with the work of king, little, Lymon – and often not in favor of foreign masters.
A quiet mining town somewhere in the Russian hinterland. New year’s eve. Measured life of the Outback where everything goes on as usual routine. Periodically people disappear out here, and from door peephole empty apartment you are looking for something that is not supposed to exist. With an ominous creak open the doors of these cabinets, letting freedom of the Horde hidden skeletons. And together with the memory of incredible pain in the world is unspeakably Evil.
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