Dusty and the Seven Shudder Sisters - Part 12

This is the seventh in Dusty's stories - as you may have noticed, I came up with a numerical theme for the stories and this is number 7.

What else but the Seven Deadly Sins - and the opposing Seven Heavenly Graces - for this story.

As before, I hope you enjoy the story.

pictures from Google free to use search

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

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The first was dead before any of them understood what was happening.

Dusty’s hand dripped gore.

The recently deceased Shudder Sister’s body was straight at last, freed from the stoop of old age.

Her head was too far back, it looked wrong – it was tipped back so that the back of her head was parallel to the floor, ninety degrees to her straightened body.

The throat was missing, yet she screamed.

It was the scream from her soul rather than her mouth.

As her body died, her soul was freed and when it realised where it was and that there really was no chance of escape or redemption, it gave one last horrific, terrifying screech of anger, bewilderment and utter agony as it was claimed and damned.

The three remaining Shudder Sisters stood before Dusty.

Two had their hands over their ears, their eyes closed, with terror etched on their faces because they realised their fate.

The third, the elder, glared at Dusty.

“Betcha didn’t foretell that future; did you?” Dusty grinned at the old woman.

“I can see your future, demon-spawn,” she said, lifting her hand to point at Dusty. “I see your future very well.”

“Yeah, well it hasn’t happened yet, so I’m not going to change it by worrying about it.”

“I see the death of your loved ones!”

“We’ve all got to die, chick,” Dusty said.

She maintained her composure but the words hit hard, like a sliver of ice through her chest.

The elder Shudder Sister caught the glimmer of pain in Dusty’s eyes and decided to press her advantage.

“Your grandparents will die in agony trying to save you and you will be oblivious to their terror. Selfish child, you could prevent the tragedy, but...” she hesitated, confused.

She frowned making the wrinkles on her brow deepen. “But how?”

Dusty had had enough.

She set a determined grimace on her face and ran at the Shudder Sisters.

The elder, the one in the middle, put up her hands to ward off the attack but she was too late and too weak.

Dusty hit her at a run, head lowered and she shoulder-barged her.

The elder Shudder Sister was propelled back towards the wall of molten rock.

Dusty thrust her back and away as they approached the wall and the momentum carried the ancient woman off her feet and into the wall.

She was absorbed into the molten rock like a body falling into quicksand.

It sucked her in at crawling pace and Dusty watched as the crone struggled to be free.

The Shudder Sisters all screamed in agony as the elder’s flesh was consumed and before her soul wailed its agony, she pointed once more at Dusty but Dusty was determined not to listen.

“I don’t want to hear it, old woman. You have nothing to say that I’m interested in hearing. You used your gift to threaten and dominate. Not just your human victims but those you called ‘sister’. I see a future for your soul. It’s going to be hell!”

Dusty turned away without another word. The two remaining Shudder Sisters clung to each other in an embrace that reminded Dusty of a childhood fairytale – Babes in the Wood. She smiled at the memory of her mother reading the story to her but then she remembered why they were there.

“Well ladies,” she said. “You’re already in hell, I suggest you stay away from Lucifer, I don’t know what he’d do to you if he found you in his domain without an appointment.”

“Take me back!” one of the women demanded as Dusty turned away from them.

“Just you; not both of you? After what I’ve just said to your sister?” Dusty said. “I think not. The world of man is well-rid of you.”

Dusty concentrated again and she was back in the derelict house.

A faint imprint of the elder Shudder Sister’s form was fading from the damp and crumbling plaster on the wall before her and Dusty’s smile was grim.

She remembered the elder’s prophecy and she knew fresh agony and bereavement was coming.

She didn’t know where, when or how, so the only thing she could do was to make the most of it while she could.

Grandma always said, “If you can’t change it by worrying about it, why waste time and energy worrying?”

Dusty thought that was very sound advice.