Random Horror Stories - 500

Cheryl sat by her window, staring at the gray stretch of trees that had stood as long as she had. The wind howled in the distance, but the house remained warm, silent, as it had for decades. Her hands trembled slightly as she worked, grinding herbs with a stone mortar, humming a soft tune that she hadn't heard in years.

She had always been gentle, kind even, and many who passed by her cottage said she had a grandmotherly aura, the sort that made people feel safe.

No one knew the truth, though. Cheryl had lived alone for so long it was hard to remember the last time she'd spoken to anyone, or the last time she'd even wanted to. It didn't matter. The forest outside would bring her what she needed. She had made sure of that.

The sound of a crack echoed from the woods. Cheryl didn't flinch. It was close now. She smiled.

Hours passed. The sun dipped low, casting long, crooked shadows across the ground. And then, just as Cheryl had hoped, there was a knock at her door. A young man stood there, his eyes wide, his face pale.

He'd been traveling, lost, probably, as most of them were. She knew the look. The wildness in their eyes. The same look they always had before they saw the truth.

"Are you lost, dear?" Cheryl asked, her voice calm and warm.

The man nodded, eyes darting around nervously. "I... I don't know where I am. It's been hours since I last saw a road. I saw your house. Could I... could I stay the night?"

Cheryl opened the door wider, stepping back with a soft chuckle. "Of course. There's no harm in resting for a while. It's dangerous in these woods at night, you know."

He stepped in cautiously, brushing the snow from his boots. Cheryl closed the door behind him. The house smelled of herbs, and something darker, something more ancient. She motioned to the fire that burned low in the hearth.

"Sit, dear. Warm yourself. I'll make you something to eat."

He hesitated, but the cold finally drove him to the chair near the fire. Cheryl went to the kitchen, her movements slow but deliberate. She hadn't told him that the food he would eat wasn't meant for him. Not yet.

Outside, the forest was restless. From deep within the trees, something watched. It had always watched.

Cheryl returned with a plate of food, setting it down in front of the man. His eyes flickered toward it. Hunger made his hand reach for the bread, the stew. But then he stopped, his breath coming faster, his face paling.

"Are you alright, dear?"

He looked at her, his mouth trembling. "I... I'm sorry. I don't feel so well. Something's not right."

Cheryl's smile widened.

"I know, dear. But it's too late now."

He looked at the door, but the door wouldn't open. The floorboards groaned. The walls pressed in. He stood, stumbling toward the door, but there was no way out. Cheryl didn't move as he backed into the wall, his breath quickening.

The windows rattled. The house shook. And then the scream came, muffled at first, as the earth beneath them rumbled. Cheryl closed her eyes, the sound sweet in her ears. She felt the power rise from deep below, the forest itself feeding. The door splintered open, and with it came the creature, huge and dark, its jaws dripping, its eyes cold and empty.

The man didn't scream as the wolf dragged him out. Cheryl didn't need him to. She watched the woods take him, the same as they always did.

And when the house grew quiet again, when the last of the blood had soaked into the earth, Cheryl sat back down at her window, her hands folding neatly in her lap.

Tomorrow would bring another traveler.