It Was A Sunday

It was a Sunday at St. Anne's orphanage...

It was a Sunday and like all Sundays for the children of St. Anne’s orphanage, this Sunday included breakfast, a little recess at the playground outside, naptime, lunch, reading time and dinner with morning, afternoon, and evening prayers. This Sunday was no different and yet a certain young boy by the name of Timmy Burger couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread and terror waiting to happen.

 

Poor little Timmy Burger jumped with every slam, knock or slight movement made. His tiny little heart raced and beat against his ribcage threatening to break through his chest if he did not calm down soon, which was highly unlikely seeing as poor Timmy had been acting like this for thirteen straight hours.

 

Young Timmy had a perceptive eye. Yes quite perceptive indeed. You see Timmy is and probably will be one of three kids who have stayed in this orphanage the longest. Timmy would stay in a corner and watch new kids taken in the orphanage every day, from children ranging ages of three weeks to twelve years old. Timmy was currently six, a very curious yet shy age. If there were something that Timmy has always remembered in his six years of life it’s that every year when the orphanage would become too overcrowded the people of St. Anne’s (very strange people indeed) would hold a feast for reasons unknown.

 

Timmy wouldn’t expect a feast of all things but he has certainly gotten used to it seeing as he’s been here for all his life. The feast was merry, jolly and quite bright. A feast seemed to be completely irrelevant to the subject that the orphanage was overcrowded, and yet every time the feast is over, the orphanage is spacious again, able to give beds, provide food and room for all the kids in St. Anne’s.

 

Timmy now knew why he was so erratic, because this Sunday, this oh so seemingly normal Sunday signaled that it would be a week before the feast. He did not know why but he seemed frightened about this, but after finding out why he was acting so strange he seemed to relax a little and laugh a little bit at himself for being scared of such a silly thing and ran off with the other little kids in the playground.

 

Soon Maria had blown her whistle, signaling that supper was ready, and swarm of little kids raced to the mess hall. Right before Timmy could go through the door, Maria had stopped him and a couple of kids that he knew for a long time in the orphanage. Puzzled little faces were seen on the boys’ face and the adorable pouts with little scrunches of their eyebrows had given them an even more confused look.

 

Maria had gestured with her hand for the little boys to follow her and without question they did, to the back of the orphanage where the forest lay and soft ground.  It was getting dark now and the noises of forest animals were starting to be heard. The boys were confused, hungry and cold, wondering why Maria was keeping them out here for so long without any particular reason.

 

It wasn’t until the orphanage’s cook, Carl came out with a large butcher knife in his hands, and with the glint it gave off in the moonlight it appeared to be newly sharpened. When Carl started to make an advance on them is when the boys had started to panic. They were crying and continuously asking Maria what was going on. She harshly told them to shut up and calm down, but that just made the boys more scared than what they already were.

 

Then came the first swing and all hell broke loose.  The boys started to run now, in different directions, screaming. Timmy was shellshock and had stood in place watching what used to be his good friend Simon, hacked to pieces, his blood flooding the ground and dead leaves, pooling at his feet.

 

Timmy looked up at Carl who had a dangerous glint in his eyes and Timmy’s legs were screaming and the need to run overwhelmed him, so he ran and ran. Carl ran after him, and Timmy was so scared. He ran so fast and soon he felt a warm liquid spread through his groin and his thighs, as the scared little boy pissed himself, but he kept on running.

 

Carl had finally caught the little boy, who was blubbering and crying, with snot and hot tears running down his cheeks and dribbling in his chin. Carl scowled and grabbed him roughly on the arm and dragged him to where what used to be the other boys.

 

Timmy stopped in front of the giant mass of limbs and heads, with a giant heap of blood pooled underneath and the stench of death and blood filled and contaminated the air, making Timmy sick to his stomach and he felt himself heave, then drain out the contents of last supper, and he continued to sob, helpless, sad, desperate sobs that would have made any human with morals and compassion fall down to their knees and beg for it to stop, because it caused them so much pain and agony.

 

Carl had a somewhat sad and pained look, but it was quickly gone and right before he did anything he prayed, “God forgive me” before he swung, and chopped off Timmy’s arm. Timmy could only stare in silence, pain and shock where his arm used to be, before he too collapsed on the mass of dead bodies, adding more blood to the giant pool.

 

Timmy was unbeknownst to them still quite very so conscious, though he could feel it slowly slipping. He saw Maria arrive back and stared straight at Timmy, then tsked. She turned back to Carl and asked “Ms. Applegate would like to know when can they be prepared and when they would be ready”. Carl replied with a gruff, “They’ll be ready by Sunday” before Timmy lost conscious and died a sad death.

 

 

One Week Later…

 

Jimmy Cheese woke up a glorious Sunday morning, with the smell of corn on the cob, potatoes and melted butter lingering in the air, and he quickly jumped out of bed, excited for the feast to begin.

 

Jimmy raced down to the dining hall and saw a generous amount of food, with vegetables and meats laid all around the table and the other kids struggling to find seats that they like. Jimmy took his seat next to Talia, a girl who he had met the first time he came to the orphanage and smiled shyly at her. Talia looked down and blushed when Maria rung the bell, and prayers started with Jimmy sneaking a few glances at Talia whose cheeks were still red.

 

The prayers were over and the kids greedily took the food, serving heaps of it on their plates. Jimmy took a piece of the meat that was in front of him, and right before he was about to bite down, found Carl staring at him with a strange intensity, but he shrugged it off and a took a bite, and couldn’t help but think how wonderful the meat tasted and how glorious this Sunday was.

 

 

THE END

Author's Note

The usage of food for last names was for the effect of irony incase none of you caught on :P

Reviews

[RWPhoenix]

Creepy but I enjoyed it! Great story.

[The Witness]

*shivers* Creepy. I really enjoyed this. I did get the food names. It is so very creative.

[Crimson Bayonet]

great story, I liked it very much :D

[Sean H.]

Yeah haha! I like the food names! Great story. Very creative. If you want to give an orphan nightmares, this is the way to do it.

[Alucard]

Sickening and horrifying, that a mind would even devise this blatant abuse of children, this is not literature and certainly not entertainment. I have a good mind to contact the authorities in your area! No person in their right mind should even think of constructing a piece like this and I am sorry I had the misfortune of finding it!

[Boo Radley]

Quite the satisfying read. I expected it to be like the other horror i have read on this site, but no, its genuinely good. I love it.

[Gabriella]

Love this story! It's nice to see that you take some pride in your work instead of posting first drafts. The names you use for your characters are also very cute and very appropriate. The only thing I would suggest is that more suspense would help this piece a lot. I kind of had the conclusion figured out the first time you mentioned the feast, but I'm not sure everyone else might. I hope to read more of your work soon as this was very much my taste!

[Claudia]

Freaky s**t dude XD

But still so awesome