MicroHorror

Kyle and Mindy liked it when Grandpa came over. He told the best bedtime stories. Although Kyle was now at the age where he doubted the logic in some of Grandpa’s wild tales.

“So you both tucked in nice and comfy?” Grandpa asked, sitting down in the old rocking chair.

“Yes,” said Mindy.

“Tell us a scary story, Grandpa. One with a spooky monster,” Kyle requested. Those were his favorite when Grandpa didn’t go too far off the deep end.

“Well, now…” Grandpa rocked for a bit and thought. “Have you ever heard about the Bone Shatterer?”

“No,” the kids said in unison, and Mindy pulled the covers up to her chin.

“Oh, he’s a terrible monster, he is. Lives in bogs and swamps, like here in Louisiana. He’s just a skeleton, all covered with leaves, vines and gunk from the swamps, so he looks kinda like a swamp-resurrected man.”

“A dirty man,” Mindy piped up.

“Except his skull head is completely clean and deathly white, with a ring of hellfire dancing across the top. That’s what gives him life and his fiendish power.”

“What’s that?” Kyle was drawn in despite his cynicism.

Grandpa stopped rocking. “The Bone Shatterer searches for bad people, people who hurt other people, who cheat and lie and steal. And who kill.” Grandpa leaned close to the children. “And when he finds them, he clutches hold of their arms in his steely grip and he shakes them. Shakes them hard.”

“And then what happens?”

“He keeps on a-shaking ’em, so hard and so fast, that their bones shatter into pieces, then smaller fragments, then into nothing more than bone dust. Afterwards he carries off the limp bag of flesh that was once human and drops it into a deep part of the swamp, where it sinks out of sight forever.” Grandpa’s eyes glittered with a strange fire. “And their soul goes to eternal punishment. That the Bone Shatterer’s job–to send those who belong in hell down there.”

“Golly,” breathed Mindy, her eyes wide.

“Ah, that’s impossible. How could anything be strong enough to shatter bones through flesh by just shaking?” Kyle challenged.

“It’s a demon power, so it doesn’t follow the laws of nature. Strange things come out of the swamp.”

“But don’t the people fight back or try to escape by running away?”

Grandpa sat back in his chair. “Oh, they try, alright. But you see, the Bone Shatterer fixes ’em with a horrible stare that paralyzes them, that bright hellfire burning in those empty eye sockets. They’re helpless to do anything but feel their bones crumble to dust in his grip.”

Mindy pulled the covers over her head. “Ah, that’s too unreal to make sense–“ Kyle started.

“What do you mean, ‘unreal?’ You believe a radioactive spider’s bite can give a teenager powers,” Grandpa muttered.

“Yeah, but–”

“Okay, that’s enough. Just be sure you’re a good boy and girl, and you’ll never have to worry about the Bone Shatterer looking for you. Good night, you two. Sleep tight.”

“I believe the story, Grandpa,” Mindy said from under the covers.

Kyle gave up, and Grandpa clicked off the bedroom light.

Grandpa went downstairs and outside, back into an old weathered shack under the cypress trees. “Too unreal to make sense,” he mumbled to himself. With a mystical flourish, he pulled off his flesh and hung it on a hook in the wall. It looked like an odd, creepy Halloween costume, a human suit to wear, complete with eyes and hair.

The hellfire ignited over his head and blazed in his empty eye sockets. He had justice to dispense tonight, some people who needed to feel the sharp agony of his touch.

And then he would put Grandpa’s flesh back on and see if his tenth-generation grandchildren were sleeping peacefully, and be sure that Mindy was covered up against the chill night air.

• Copyright: © 2009 Rod Drake