The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Molly and Frank
by Bailey Hunter

“Come on Frank, it’s time to go.” Molly stopped a moment to watch the flames curl and kiss the ceiling of the old barn house. It was always time to go. She let out a long sigh and grabbed Frank. “Now. Unless you want to burn with them.”

Frank was constantly trailing behind. He had been with Molly forever. In fact, she literally could not remember a single moment before life with him. They had been on the road since the beginning. They would stop for a while, but never more than a year— and it always ended badly. But Frank loved Molly and would follow her anywhere. He would be there to protect her whenever she needed and she was there to comfort him through the rough spots.

There were a lot of rough spots.

Molly, Frank in tow, shuffled down the old dirt road leaving the screams and the inferno that would eventually swallow those too, behind.  She no longer ran from these scenes. Time had taught her that no one really looks, and if they do, she is not the one they are looking at. 

When she first arrived here it was strange, and she was small. She sought out the good… the kind… the caregivers. She needed their care. It wasn’t too long though before she realised she could never stay with them, no matter how good or kind they were. After a year, maybe two, the questions would start. Then the endless doctors’ visits and tests would begin. A child who doesn’t grow is a concern. The only blessing is that back then, when a child went missing, it rarely went beyond the community, and often could be dismissed as lost in the woods, or drowned in the river. Nature claimed its own more often then.

As the decades went by, Molly had adapted. Her tiny frame and wide eyes were no longer a weakness but a strength. She turned away from the kind, and into the filthy arms of the cruel and vile. This way, she could remove them without question. She didn’t have to concern herself with the hole she left behind. During that time she and Frank learned a lot about how to lure, and how to dispose of the human filth. There’d been a few dodgy moments which only taught her that death was their issue, not hers. She learned firsthand of pain and suffering, turning it into an art of her own. 

Time has a way of tipping and twisting things after a while. She and Frank no longer cared if those who took her in were good or bad, kind or evil. They all had to go. In this age of digital footprints, and interconnection where news traveled as fast as it happened, there was no other choice as Molly saw it.  For the good ones, she made sure it was swift and gentle. They deserved at least that. She took her time with the cruel ones though. It was fun to watch the realisation emerge from widened eyes that inside the child was a monster more fearsome than anything they could ever become. It was in those moments she almost understood what she was… why she was.

Molly pulled Frank in for a big hug. “I know you hate that part,” she whispered in his fuzzy ear, “but it’s for our own good. You understand that, right?”  Frank said nothing, and simply hugged her back. Molly started walking again, the sounds of sirens slowly growing louder in the far distance. The fields were warm this time of year, and the wheat already high. It would be a good place to sleep tonight, and Frank would watch over her to keep her safe.

Fiction © Copyright Bailey Hunter
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from Bailey Hunter:
Bailey is a publisher with Dark Recesses Press.

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