I was raised in Texas. For me, I only had one grandma. The rest of my grandparents were all dead. So our family cherished her as much as we could. We called her ‘Annie.’ She used to knit sweaters for us, and do typical grandmother things like making us a hot beverage when we ask for it, and she always used to make the best chicken sandwiches.
But she did something that most grandmothers didn’t do.
If you would’ve entered her home, the first thing you would see to your top left would be a kitchen, adorned with a fridge and some paperwork lying above it.
Then you would go to your right, and you would see a couch, and near to it will be a fireplace.
But if you ignored all of the other rooms downstairs and went up and ignored the only two rooms there too, you would see a door.
A wooden door.
The door would be locked with the same golden brass lock, and no one was ever allowed in there.
When grandpa died when I was 13, Annie distanced herself away from us.
We wouldn’t see her familiar face at thanksgiving. You wouldn’t see her smiling, wrinkled face bringing the roast turkey and setting it at the table.
We missed her very dearly, to say the least.
We would go see her at her house sometimes, and I distinctly remember one time we passed by her home in late 2012 and decided to lend her a visit. I had just returned from basketball practice, and when we passed by her familiar bluish-green home, I asked dad if we could stop here and pay Annie a visit.
I still remember their faces when I told them my idea- their faces, which was once happy at the fact that I had won today’s game, changed to a look mixed with confusion and horror. Mum and dad looked at each other and tilted their head knowingly.
‘Fine, Chap.’
We parked our car and I walked towards the door quite quickly, while mom and dad hesitated and walked a bit slowly.
I rang the calling bell.
No response.
I rang the calling bell again.
No response.
I knocked on the door.
No response.
As I was about to knock once more, the door opened wide and I retreated in shock.
‘Mom?’ My mother called through the door.
And Annie appeared.
She looked-creepy, to say the least.
Her eyes, which were a crystal clear green, now had turned into an opaque green.
Her clothes, which were bright and colorful, were now dark and distasteful.
We entered and talked to her for a while. Most of the talking was done by me, surprisingly.
‘Bye, Grandma.’
Her eyes, I noticed, had now regained some clearness. It looked almost teary, rather hopeful.
‘Should you leave?’ Annie said.
‘Yeah Grandma. I think we should.’
And then she said an expressionless ‘goodbye’ and closed the door in our faces.
That was the second- last time I had ever seen her.
Of Course, I had kept a personal grudge against her for distancing from us for so while, going as far as to miss my wedding, And it seemed like most people from our mother’s part of the family shared the same opinions as me.
For the last time I had ever seen her was when I came by her home to invite her for my wedding.
Now, her eyes had almost turned a complete black. She spoke without much expression which caught me off-guard.
‘So, Grandma, will you come?.’
‘Will see.’
She looked so-I hate to say it-
Dead.
The house stank, now that I think of it.
The actual story starts one month ago, when Aunt Melissa decided to pay her a visit.
She opened the door to her home, and, in her words,
‘That hell of a house stank like death.’
She walked closer to the kitchen, and on the floor was Annie.
She had been dead for a whole 1 week.
‘Maggots were crawling inside her nose…. Dear Christ, It was sickening!’
The funeral was on February 3rd,2024.
For some reason, her passing didn’t really affect our family, to everyone’s surprise. No one felt sad about her, no matter how hard we tried to.
After the funeral (which my wife, may, did not attend), I was the last one to leave.
And pretty late, at that.
By the time I snapped back from my thoughts, it was 12 am, and I was sitting on the table in front of the kitchen.
My phone had plenty of missed calls, with people worrying about my absence, May’s 78 missed calls and 29 texts all were present in it.
But for some reason, all that didn’t matter at all.
All that mattered that I was with grandma… One last time.
Suddenly, my phone rang, waking me up from my short-lived trance.
‘Ben! Where the hell are you? Are you even coming home? Why are ignoring my texts and calls?’
‘May, Calm Down.’
‘Don’t tell me to calm down. I don’t even know where the hell you even are.’
‘I’m at grandma’s. Don’t worry. I’ll be right there.’
I hung up the phone, and marched to the front door, gripped my handle, twisted it-
The door didn’t open.
I tried again.
No response.
Thrice is-
No luck.
Oh fuck.
I grabbed a hammer from the storage room, and jammed it onto the handle-
No luck again.
Oh what the hell is going on here?
It was almost like the handle was made out of titanium- the thing just would not budge!
I knew that this was no good, so I retreated and made my way upstairs and far away was that door.
That Wooden Door.
It was still locked with that same golden brass lock, but it was now a little bit rusted.
Hey, I have a hammer with me.
And I jabbed that hammer onto the lock and-
It broke free.
It fell to the ground, with a loud clatter.
The door broke free.
With my mouth agape, I gazed longingly into the inside.
Clenching my jaw was not enough as I saw-
A thousand crosses littered-
On the ground and on the wall.
What the fuck was going on here?
I entered the room, and I felt that same stinking smell reach my nostrils.
I turned to my right to find the location of the smell-
Oh no oh hell no what the hell?
Two corpses lay on the ground.
I retreat in fear as I look at their dead faces gazing longingly at me.
One had a mole on their forehead that looked just like the mole my grandfather had.
One had a birthmark on her left hand just like grandma had.
Both of them died years and months ago- WHY ARE THEY NOT DECOMPOSING?
‘Ah. You must be one of their grandchildren.’
I turn back to face-something.
As of today, I still don’t know what it really looked like. I could only comprehend it’s two,glowing eyes staring at me.
And it’s teeth.
Oh dear lord it’s teeth.
‘What-What W-Why? D-Do you?’
I say, as I struggle to get words out of my mouth.
‘Your grandparents themselves met this fate. And I trouble to inform you your mother was the reason for both of their deaths.’
‘Wh-What?’
‘Your mother was in a very dangerous state in your mother’s belly. To save her, Both of them made a pact with me.’
‘Both of them shall die once they get to see all of their grandchildren.’
‘The cost? Their lives will rot away, slowly from them.’
I get up, and run as fast as I could from that wretched house.
As I reach the bottom floor, I see a lighter.
I knew I needed to put an end to this once and for all.
Desperately searching for a can of kerosene, I find it and poured it all over that house and set fire to it.
I ran as fast as I could, the door opened now.
Running out, I got into my car and sped away from that house.
The reason that I post this today is because our unborn child is having complications in labor.
I shudder to think that maybe- just maybe-