The Gruesome

The Gruesome

A Story by Scotty White

What happens when you upset a gypsy boy.


                The Gruesome

            August didn’t see the fist pop him in the mouth, but he sure felt the force as he fell to the ground. Blood poured from his split lip, and the stars swirled around his eyes. For a moment he thought he could hear them twinkling as he tried to focus on his attacker. A large bull of a boy they call Brandon stood above him, glaring, calling him all manners of names. His taunts ranged from declaring his mother a prostitute and announcing to the crowd that he was as weak as a kitten to questioning August’s sexuality. Triumphant, the brute stood with his friends. 

            What lead to this bout of surprise combat? August’s family wasn’t welcome in their little town, and Brandon wanted to make sure the point was driven home. August’s family had come into town in their hour of need. Their RVs, buses, and vans showed up right after the largest natural disaster to hit the state. They were there ready to rebuild and help the citizens get back on their feet-for a price. Six months later there was still work to be done, but word had already spread around that you don’t trust the outsiders. They’ll take your money and do shoddy work.  After all, how could you trust a gypsy?

            Now, he wasn’t the traditional gypsy. August was always told his family line could be traced back to the old country. The exact location of that old country wasn’t very clear, but that didn’t matter to them. They were family, after all.  It didn’t matter if you were born inside the clan or if along the way you were brought into the family.  Now August was paying for that membership with blood.

            Another kick sent the boy to the pavement, and he stayed down this time. The lesson was learned. The bully walked off with his friends, leaving August to pick himself up. He looked at all the witnesses, adults in the town who had the chance to step in. They all chose to go back to their daily lives and ignore the fact that a battle had taken place. No one was going to lift a finger -- typical.

            Anger swelled up in him as he nursed his cut lip on the way back to the camp.  His mother, worried about her boy, was the first to approach him. He brushed her aside and told her there wasn’t a problem; he had only slipped and fell. All was right in the world. The boy sat on a log by the camp fire and brooded.  

            Revenge weighed heavy on August’s heart. It consumed his mind as he watched the fire dance in the pit. He had to do something to get the best of the brute and to prove to the rest of the town that his family wasn’t one to be trifled with. It would have to be something big, and he pondered a great deal while starring at the fire. When he saw his Grandmother hobbling to her trailer it all started to come together.

            His grandmother was an elder of the tribe, but she was also their Seeker.  She kept the knowledge and history of the group, and most importantly, she knew its magics. August had been witness to the curses and cures the old woman knew and gathered from her dusty tomes. If he could find something in those books perhaps he would get his revenge.

            That night as the camp slept August sneaked out from his tent and skittered across to the old woman’s trailer. He carefully turned the doorknob and slipped inside. The room was dark, and he could hear the woman’s uneasy breath as she slept. He quickly grabbed a few of the tomes from the shelf and ran into the night.

August made himself a fire in the clearing and sat looking through the ancient books. Most of it was foreign to him, but he managed to figure out a thing or two. He thought first about curses, maybe covering Brandon in fur or warts. That may have bothered the brute, but it wasn’t going to strike fear in to the town like he wanted. The gypsy boy was about to give up when he found a passage about demons.

            A demon. That was what he needed. Something to be cruel and show fear to his enemies that could be easily returned to hell. August picked one based on the picture then did his best to draw the symbols in the dirt. He slowly read the words in the book and finally cut his hand with his pocket knife. The blood dripped onto the ground, which began to shake, and the tremors knocked him off his feet.  

            As the ground cracked open and the screams of unimaginable torment could be heard below August stood frightened unable to move.  Then through the rift a large black claw freed itself from the prison. It was followed by a hand that belonged to a large demon that had leathery wings attached to its arms and sharp claws that tipped its fingers. The most striking feature was the monster’s face. Its large mouth looked like it was carved out of its skull, filled with sharp and jagged teeth. The creature’s eyes were red within red with black specks that reminded the boy of storm clouds. August could barely comprehend what he was seeing and the only word he could come up for it was Gruesome.

            The Gruesome flapped its wings and lifted into the air as the crack in the ground sealed and returned to normal. August could see the creature fly above him, stretching its body, working out the muscles that had been confined in Hell for so many years. It circled three times then landed in front of the boy.

            There were no words. The monster knew exactly what the gypsy wanted, and August knew the price. The monster’s freedom for the revenge he sought. The terms were agreed in silence and sealed by a handshake.

The Gruesome took flight again, swooped down, and lifted the boy into the air.   They flew high above the sleeping town below. August pointed to Brandon’s house and commanded the monster to land. They touched down softly into the back yard, where August was placed onto the grass and the creature stormed into the house.

The boy watched while the demon tore through the bully’s home, punishing everyone he saw. He heard the screams of Brandon’s family inside as they where helpless to defend themselves. Brandon climbed out of his top-floor window and used the emergency fire ladder to get to the ground.  He ran to the back yard and stopped short when he saw the gypsy.

            Before the Brute could say anything the Gruesome swooped him up and flew him high into the night sky. August watched the darkness above, he could hear Brandon plead for his life, crying to the Almighty to save him. Moments later he heard an ear piercing scream, followed by silence. He felt water fall on his face. When he looked into the sky, no rain clouds obscured the moonlit night. He touched his face and felt the slick, slightly oily texture of the moisture and knew it wasn’t rain. It was blood, the bully’s blood. The Gruesome had flayed the boy mid-flight and discarded his flesh, which dropped to the ground.  August watched as the monster devoured Brandon’s skinless body.

            The neighborhood was now awake and alert. People came out to see what was causing such a commotion. The sound of police sirens echoed in the distance. The Gruesome turned its attention to the town. August ducked into bushes and watched as the monster unleashed its wrath.

            Nothing could stop the creature as it flew into the crowd of innocent bystanders.  Razor sharp claws ripped through their flesh like a child cutting paper dolls.  Blood flowed into the streets. Woeful screams echoed throughout the town. The Gruesome made no distinction between man, woman, or child. All were punished. All paid with their lives.

            August stepped into the silent, blood-streaked street and watched his monster finish eating its last victim. He saw the destruction around him and he smiled. This was exactly the devastation he had hoped for. The town paid with its dearest blood and the Brute suffered inside the gullet of the beast.   

The gypsy boy watched the Gruesome take flight once more and lost sight as it melded with the night sky. The monster’s job was done. It could be free as agreed. He turned and headed back to camp. There was plenty of time to replace his grandmother’s books, and no one would be the wiser.

As August got near the camp he could hear gunfire and screams. He ran as fast as he could. As he approached camp, he saw the Gruesome tear off his uncle’s head. The boy stood frozen in fear as the monster he summoned destroyed everything he knew and loved. When the carnage was finished, the Gruesome walked over to the boy. August was sure his would be the next life claimed. Instead of slaying him, though, the beast flew into the night.

August fell to his knees, a scream borne from pure agony and devastation tearing from his lungs. He watched the Gruesome’s silhouette fade into the moonlight with tears rolling down his cheeks. The creature was now free to wreck whatever havoc it wished upon the world, and it was the gypsy boys fault. August got his revenge, and the story of his victory would stir fear at the mention of gypsies. Only now his family wouldn’t be included.

August picked himself up, brushed himself off, and searched through the wreckage of the family camp. Hope quickened his pulse and clenched his gut when he heard the muffled cries of survivors. The rest of his night would be spent helping his family. He would help his family the rest of the night, and when the dawn came he would be gone.  There was hunting to do.


       Scotty O. White


© 2011 Scotty White

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there was one part where you said "all mighty" and you meant "Almighty" there was another part where you said "reek havoc" and you meant "wreak havoc"

What a bloody and gruesome and scary tale. a good message though, the joy of vengeance is always short lived. "If you go on a journey of vengeance first dig two graves, one for your enemy and one for yourself"

Posted 8 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


I noticed at least one run-on sentence, but there were few real errors to point out.

I really liked this story. Stories of vengeance gone wrong, demons, gypsies... I like it a lot... I quite enjoyed the fact that it was nice and bloody, but there was a good plot and story behind it.

Posted 8 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

[send message][befriend] Subscribe
there was one part where you said "all mighty" and you meant "Almighty" there was another part where you said "reek havoc" and you meant "wreak havoc"

What a bloody and gruesome and scary tale. a good message though, the joy of vengeance is always short lived. "If you go on a journey of vengeance first dig two graves, one for your enemy and one for yourself"

Posted 8 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

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2 Reviews
Added on May 23, 2011
Last Updated on May 23, 2011


Scotty White
Scotty White

Dunbar, WV

I am a storyteller originally from Alabama who has been spending a few years in West Virginia before he makes his way to California. I have stories to tell and I hope you will enjoy them! more..


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