UP TO NO GOOD
She warned them. She said them children were organizin'. She said they'd be up to no good. Now look...
[One-shot]
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yay for first One-Shot! I decided to give up on SIX DAY'S for a bit. I am too busy to finish it...and I really dont
know what to do with it...so yeah, suspended indefinitely. This is a little itty-bitty story about a little itty-bitty ol' lady named...Lady...huh.
Lady copyright of me
Hanson, Malachai, and Amos copyright of Steven King
Sergent Hawkeye copyright of...whoever owns M*A*S*H
Lady didn't want to be left alone, not today. She heard those boys at the Grocery store talking about some uprising of some sort and didn't want her son to going to work today. She limped into the kitchen, clutching her cane, where he was. He looked up from the mornig newspaper, seeing her, and looked back down. She winced as she sat down across from him.
"Hanson," she said, "I dont want you goin' to work today" she grabbed the newspaper from his head. "Them kids are planning somethin'! I know it and I know you know it! I cant let you go to work knowin' them children gonna start somethin'!
The 57-year-old son looked at her with an incredulous expression and said, "Woman, your almost 90 years old. Your senile. Ain't no kid's startin' nothin'."
"Say what you want, boy," Lady said. "But you ain't goin' to that Diner"
He grabbed the newspaper and ripped it open. "I'm goin' to do my civic duty, woman. Ain't Nothin' you can do 'bout it."
She watched him from her bedroom window as he drove down the corner to his diner. Her bedroom was on the first floor for the fact she couldn't walk up the stairs of her own home. Not that Lady minded, easier access to the exits in case of emergency.
She settled herself in front of the T.V. and turned it on, William Christopher flickered onto the screen. She scoffed at it and turned it off. She started to feel an anxious sort of emotion that had her fidgeting. She looked around and notice something horrible.
"Jingles?" she called, Jingles was her gray skottish fold kitten that Hanson had bought her, in hopes of getting her out of his hair. She got up from her seat, limping to the kitchen again and got out some cat food. "Jingles? I got some nice food her Jingles!" She called as she opened it. Lady shook it around in front of her, calling out again.
Then the door opened, The screen clashing behind them. She turned to the noise... too fast. She fell to the ground, hearing a loud pop. She howled from a pain that hadn't come yet. Jingles ran to the fallen food, licking it up from the floor. Darkness overcame her as a pair of red converse appeared next to her.
She woke up slowly, her blurred vision making an outline of orange and brown. As it cleared, Her eyes bulged in horror. In front of her was a youth holding Jingles as if the cat was an infant. He was a sightly young thing, Medium build with stringy red hair. Next to him, a tall brown haired boy, with an eager look on his face.
The red haired boy smiled at her, with a glint of menace in his eyes. "Good. Your awake! We were afraid you'd died." The brown haired boy snorted. She knew the brown haired one, he used to help Hanson with the car troubles. Richard his name was. She knew the red head too. He was one of the boys at the grocery store.
"So, Are you alright Miss?" He asked. She sat upright, a pain shooting up her hip. She shrieked, putting a hand on her hip. The boy took one hand away from the cat and reached for a glass of water, passing it to her. "Drink this Ma'am," He said nodding to the glass. She waved it away, Tears falling from her eyes. "You trying to poison me, arn't you?! You trying to kill me! Where's my son?! What have you done with my son?!?!"
Richard shifted a little, an anxious look coming to face. The Red head just smiled again, petting the Scottish Fold. "Ma'am," he said, "I wouldn't poison an old thing like you." His face darkened, "You've lived to long and sinned too much for that."
Lady looked to Richard. "Rich!" she screeched, "I know you're a good boy. I know your parents! I know they raised you right!" He didn't look at her, instead he stared at his shoes. "My name's Amos." He said.
She gave up on him and looked at the red head. "Craig, is it?" she asked quickly. The Red boy glared at her. "I am Malachai." He said. She nodded her head furiously. "Yes, good. Malachai! Please I know you wouldn't kill an old woman like me. I know your too good for that!" she said desperately.
"Aww,you hear that Amos?" Malachai asked him. Amos peeled at bits of wallpaper, still not able to look at the old woman. "Just do it already, Malachai."
Malachai sighed and got up, putting the cat on the table. The cat looked around anxiously for a way to get down, failing to find one. Malachai and took out his knife. He tried to find a way to grab her comfortably, which was hard because of her struggling. Choosing to put one hand on her forehead and the other holding the knife near her neck, he slit her wrinkled throat. Her blood was running down his hands. "Dammit," The red haired youth said, picking up the kitten and cleaning his hands with it. The cat stared at her savior meowing and purring at his touch. Malachai smiled at the kitten, taking it's neck with his hand and cracking it. He then dropped it on the floor and motioned Amos to follow him. They were late, and Isaac wouldn't like that. Amos followed behind him, never once looking at the woman.