Select Page

Wright and Wrong

Wright and Wrong

Outside its tall doors a strange circle had been drawn in what looked like spray paint. Contained within the circle were hundreds of burlap sacks, each with different paper tags attached to them. Written on the tags were the same names he found on the piece of paper.

He could feel his heart beating in his chest.

Gingerly, Ernest stepped towards the doors of the barn, which had been left slightly ajar, leaving a crack of light to seep out into the blackness.

Holding his breath, he pushed the door open…

‘Ah Ernest,’ called Lawrence.

His blood ran cold.

Lawrence and Pamela Beaumont sat opposite each other on a wooden table, enjoying a candlelit dinner. In their hands they clutched a child each, biting into them as if chewing on a chicken breast. Around them, the walls were littered with ungodly symbols, including an upside down cross which hung suspended from the ceiling.

Wiping the blood from his mouth, Lawrence spoke again.

‘Sorry Ernest how rude of me, please come and join us. We were just finishing.’

Ernest tried to speak but his mouth wouldn’t open.

‘Honestly what sort of host am I? Would you like to try some?’

‘You really should Ernest,’ said Pamela.

They both offered what was left of their children to him.

‘You’re – you’re monsters.’

‘No that’s not true,’ said Lawrence, ‘look Ernest, I really think you should come and sit down.’

‘I’m going to expose you Beaumont, you’re not going to get away with this.’

‘Well actually we’ve been getting away with it for some time now,’ said Pamela,’ come in Ernest; I think it’s in your best interest to listen to what we have to say.’

‘No no, I’m not listening to another word.’

‘Mr Wright let me be frank,’ said Lawrence, ‘we can cure your cancer.’

Ernest froze; it felt like somebody had delivered a punch straight to his gut.

‘What did you say to me?’

‘I said we can cure you’re cancer. Ernest you’ve asked us enough questions so let me ask you one. Do you honestly believe we let you come out here just so you could write an article on us?’

‘I – I don’t know.’

‘Ernest we’ve known about you’re cancer a lot longer than you have,’ said Pamela, ‘we want to save you. You see what we grow out here comes with a lot of benefits, you’ll see for yourself soon.’

W – What are you talking about?’ said Ernest.

‘We and a lot of other people follow a very unique religion Mr Wright,’ said Lawrence, ‘it might seem bizarre now but believe me it’s catching on. When I met Pam I was a very sick man, just like you are now. She introduced me to this faith and I haven’t looked back since. As I’ve got older it’s become very useful indeed.’

Pamela smiled and licked the blood from her lips.

‘Now come on, she said, ‘your foods getting cold.’

‘You’re eating children.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ said Lawrence, ‘I mean yes these are children but they’re not human. They don’t think, they don’t feel; in fact they’ve never even been alive, well at least we think so. Our God is kind Mr Wright, every fortnight he blesses us by planting them in the ground; they start off as little seeds but they soon grow into these beauties.’

‘You’re both very very sick,’ said Ernest.

‘We’re not sick Mr Wright,’ said Pamela, ‘we’re far from it. Look at us Ernest, you said yourself how good we look for our ages. Do you want to know how old I really am?

Ernest was too bewildered to respond.

‘I’m one hundred and ten Mr Wright. As long as we keep eating and worshipping, we will be forever blessed with eternal youth. Think about it Ernest; if you join us we can completely restore your health.

‘You’re lying.’

‘No we are not Ernest,’ said Lawrence, ‘as we keep saying when you try some for yourself you’ll understand.’

‘Why are you so sure of everything?

‘Some of the side effects are very useful Mr Wright. Let’s just say we always have a very comfortable knowledge of the future. Come on Ernest, deep down you know we’re telling the truth.’

‘Look, if you don’t believe us you can always reach out to a fellow follower; believe me the faith is spreading far quicker than we thought.’

‘The sacks,’ muttered Ernest.

‘Indeed,’ said Lawrence. ‘In fact, the delivery man must have been and gone by now.’

Lawrence and Pamela rose from the table and made for the exit, pulling Ernest with them.

Outside, the clouds had parted, allowing the moon to retake its position back in the sky. Lawrence and Pamela smiled; they were just on time.

Flying away from them was a grotesque winged creature, unlike anything Ernest had seen before. It was the size of a small aeroplane and clutched the burlap sacks in two razor sharp talons. Before it vanished out of sight, the creature let out a horrific wail that cut through the silence like a knife.

Then it was gone.

‘The list please Mr Wright.’

Ernest handed Lawrence the piece of paper in his pocket.

‘Well Pam. That’s it for another week.’

‘I think that’s the most we’ve sent for delivery so far.’

Lawrence put his arm around her.

‘We’re really reaching people aren’t we?’

‘Yes we are Pam, yes we are.’

About The Author

Sam Barrowcliffe

I am nineteen years old and will begin studying English Literature and Creative Writing at the University of Warwick in September. Since starting at Mouthing Off as Creative Writing Editor, I have written and published a number of short stories and can’t wait to share even more. My favourite genres are horror and science – fiction and I take great inspiration from the likes of Rod Serling, Charlie Kauffman, H.P Lovecraft, Christopher Nolan and Phillip K. Dick. In the future, I hope to follow my dream of becoming a professional screenwriter and novelist, following in the footsteps of my idols. I look forward to publishing even more fiendish tales and I hope people will continue to enjoy reading them, as much as I have writing them!

Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


Recent Articles

Recent Tweets



Pin It on Pinterest

Share This

Share This

Share this post with your friends!