
06 Aug The Little Girl Who Cried Wolf
βThe Little Girl Who Cried Wolfβ
Written by K.P. Whitlomb Edited by N.M. Brown Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/ACopyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).
π§ Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
β° ESTIMATED READING TIME β 10 minutes
βOnce upon a time, there was a big bad wolfββ
βMom!β Heather cried out loudly, cutting her twin sister off. βSheβs doing it again!β
The girlsβ mother, Tracy, appeared at the door, flicking on the light and mock-glaring at the two beds across the room. Heather was pointing emphatically at the other bed, where Linda had pulled the covers over herself.
βWhatβs going on now?β Tracy asked.
βLindaβs scaring me!β
Heather pouted and continued to point at the giggling lump of blankets and sheets that was Linda. The ten-year-olds watched as their mother came fully into the room, pretending to scowl as she grabbed at the blanket-covered pile on Lindaβs bed. Clearly, she was not taking Heatherβs concerns seriously, a thought confirmed by Tracy reaching under the blankets and giving Linda numerous tickles. Heather huffed and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly as her twin squealed in delight. Her eyebrows were furrowed harshly as her mother turned to her with a smile.
βYou know sheβs just teasing you, sweetie,β Tracy said, moving over to Heatherβs side of the room.
Some of the anger seeped out of the glowering twin as her mother sat next to her and tucked loose wisps of hair behind Heatherβs ears.
βSheβs been teasing me all of my life!β the girl continued, trying to stay angry. It was hard when her motherβs sweet voice and soft touch were so calming.
βWell, thatβs only been ten years, Heather,β Tracy teased.
βAnd we got at least another ten more!β quipped Linda from her bed.
Heather glared at her sister, then huffed again and laid herself back down. Tracy tucked the blankets up around Heatherβs shoulders and chin, then kissed her forehead. She moved to the door, turning around once to wag a finger at both girls.
βI donβt want to have to come in here again, okay? Letβs have a quiet night tonight. Got it, ladies?β
Both girls nodded in unison, and Tracy turned off the light and closed the door. But once it was closed, Linda sat straight up in her bed and laughed, looking at Heather.
βYouβre such a chicken!β
βYou make me a chicken!β Heather insisted, sitting up as well.
βTheyβre just stories; they canβt hurt you!β
βThatβs not the point!β
Linda laughed and fell back on her bed, smiling up at the ceiling. βYou make it too easy, sis.β
Growling, Heather rolled over and put her back to her twin. She wanted to sleep. She needed to sleep! Linda was always making her life so difficult. Why couldnβt she just let Heather sleep?
For a few moments, there was quiet and blissful silence. But as soon as Heather noticed the serenity, it was shattered by a shrieking and howling sound. Heather sat up, panting and breathless, only to see Linda sitting like a dog in the middle of her little bed, head tilted back.
βStop it!β
βNo! I heard something howling outside. The moon is full. Iβm gonna howl too!β
Outside beyond the house, the pack of sled dogs their father kept in a large barn began to howl. They made a terrible racket, the various canine voices so out of tune with each other. Some were fluffy Canadian Eskimo dogs, while others were Chinook breeds. None of them bore the melodic sounds of a wild wolf, and neither did Linda. It was a cacophony of noise that forced Heather to put her hands over her ears in an attempt to block it out.
βShut up and go to bed!β Heather insisted loudly, but Linda wasnβt listening. Her sister continued to bay at the imaginary moon above her, lips puckered to extend her pretend dog-like muzzle.
βMom!β Heather screamed, βLinda wonβt let me go to sleep!β
Now it was Tracyβs turn to huff as she entered the room, this time leaving the light off. Heather watched her mother as she moved to Lindaβs bed, whispering to her firstborn. Linda seemed to calm and settle as Tracy tucked her in and kissed her. Then she went to Heatherβs bedside again, easing Heather into laying down.
βListen,β Tracy said, her voice almost a coo. βLinda is your sister. She will always be your sister.β
βBut will she always be Linda?β Heather snarled.
Tracy put a finger to her lips, silencing the girlβs angry words and continuing to speak.
βThe two of you are like the moon and the sun. Just like them. One dark, one light.β
βIβm the moon, right, mom?β
Tracy shook her head, smiling and making Heather feel very confused.
βNo, Heather. Linda is the moon, and you are the sun.β
βBut sheβs the bright one-β Heather tried to insist.
Tracy pulled the blankets up to her daughterβs chin once more, tucking them firmly around her shoulders as if that would keep her still for the rest of the night.
βThe moon is all whimsy and dreamy. That is Linda. Dreamy and funny and silly and lighting up the darkness with her laughter. You, my dear, are the sun.β
Heather didnβt understand that but said nothing, her silence meant to encourage her mother to say more. The sound of her motherβs voice was soothing, even over her childish fears and indignant anger.
βThe sun is warm. The sun is strong. The sun decides the seasons for the whole planet. Itβs the sun that decides when it will be spring and when it will be winter. Only the sun can tell the flowers when to bloom, or the squirrels when to store their nuts in the trees and hollows.β
Heather nodded, trying to understand.
βThatβs why you are the sun, my dear,β Tracy said, smoothing her hand around her daughterβs dark hair. βYou are the strong one. You are wise, you are serious and determined, and you are powerful. So powerful!β
The little girl glanced over at her sister. Linda was either asleep, or she was getting really good at pretending. Then Heather looked up into her motherβs loving gaze, her own expression softening.
βIβm the sun,β she whispered, and Tracy nodded.
βAnd you give the moon purpose. You decide when itβs daytime-β
βAnd I decide when itβs nighttime. So the moon can shine.β
βYou got it!β Heatherβs mother said with a smile, booping the tip of her daughterβs nose with her finger. Leaning over Heather, Tracy let her lips rest on the girlβs forehead for a moment before smiling into her eyes.
βSo let the moon be the moon. And you be the sun. Let the moon shine and do its dance through the clouds. In the daytime, youβll be the strong and powerful one, the wise one that makes all the big choices. The moon follows what you do and what you say. Let her have the night to herself.β
Some of what Tracy said didnβt make sense to Heather. She was only ten, after all. But she was okay with the words her wise mother spoke. Maybe, she thought, her mother had been the sun too, when she was a little girl.
βI love you, mom,β Heather whispered, feeling the weariness of being a twin weighing her down. It caused her limbs to feel heavy and yet light at the same time. When Tracy leaned down to give her another kiss, Heatherβs eyes closed instinctively. She had only meant to blink, but before she even realized it, she was out like a light. She never even saw her mother tiptoe out of the room and close the bedroom door.
The next time Heather opened her eyes, it was because a sound had startled her awake. She lay very still, blankets still tucked firmly around her. They were so tight that it almost felt like she was being restrained. Her eyes flitted around the room quickly, and she turned her head to free one ear from her pillow in order to hear better. She could see Linda was loose and akimbo in amongst the toss of her blankets, but definitely not awake. She was even snoring softly, a sound Heather had known all her life. A real snore, not a fake one. Heather was the only one of the pair awake.
There was that sound again. It was a scratching sound, like a bending tree branch brushing the siding of the single-story house. Only Heather knew there hadnβt been a wind all day or night, not so far. The sound was close, and against the roomβs exterior wall, the wall that bore the roomβs only window. Heather slowly turned her head, lifting slightly to look at the window, searching for the source of the noise.
It was a big picture window covered with lacy sheers of white and pink and lit up from the outside by the lights in the yard. On either side of the window were the heavy curtains Heatherβs mother would draw closed during the coldest nights of the year. However, this was spring, which meant that the drapes were tied to the sides of the windowsill. They were strips of dark purple cloth that went almost from floor to ceiling. On nights like this, the two curtains made the little girl think of two tall ladies standing next to the window, watching over her and her sister. She preferred to think of that rather than the terrible stories her sister would come up with about shadows and-
She heard the sound again. This time it was definitely at the window. As she watched with a wide-open gaze, a thin dark object tapped on the glass lightly as if testing it. Then the object drew away, and everything was still. But soon enough, there was more noise as the window began to slide open. Several curled dark claw-like objects forced the window upwards, pushing on it until it stuck and stayed open.
Heather couldnβt breathe… couldnβt think. She couldnβt even call out for her mother, something she had always been able to do at the slightest annoyance from Linda. She could only stare as something huge and black and hairy moved through the open window to stand between the dark curtains. It, too, was as tall as the ceiling. It cast a shadow from the outdoor lights that seemed to spread and fill the entirety of the bedroom.
The little girl stared so hard that she felt her eyeballs might pop right out of their sockets. She couldnβt do anything else but take in the image before her. Her body was frozen, her limbs beyond heavy or sleepy. It was as if she had no limbs at all, as if she were just a head and a set of terrified eyes. As Heather watched, more and more details of the roomβs new occupant came into view. The darkness of its shadow was immense, but the outlines of its tall body were becoming more transparent.
It was wolf-like, but it stood on two legs. Instead of ears, it had slitted, wrinkle-lined holes on the sides of its head. However, its jaws and muzzle were long and dog-like. She gasped as its canines and incisors extended into gruesome fangs. Heather could see its pale pink gums. It looked as if it had no lips to cover its teeth, as if it were always snarling.
The creatureβs body was slightly hunched as if it were too tall for the room. With its grey eyes staring at her, it growled low and fiercely, causing its whole body to shake as if in need, or in hunger. Heather could see wicked drips of drool hanging from between its sharp teeth. She watched in horror and disgust as it flicked at these with an incredibly long and flexible tongue, scooping up its own saliva before it could drop and hit the carpeted floor. The creatureβs body was mostly consumed patches of dark hair, some black, some silver. Other patches of skin were bare as if the monster was suffering from some mange or fur-killing illness. Its head, muzzle and jaws were bare of fur, but a tangled mane stuck out around the thicker part of its neck and along its shoulders. Its belly was bald, and the skin was blotched white and grey like a Dalmation. Along its back a ridge of hair crested, so pokey and spiked it could have been made of quills.
The creature stared at Heather. Heather stared back. And then she was a child, just a child, not a twin, not the sun, nothing but a ten-year-old girl. She lifted her arm from her blankets, sitting up and pointing at her sisterβs bed. It wasnβt an act of malice or anger. It was purely instinctual and done in primal self-preservation. Heather pointed at Lindaβs bed, and the creature began to move towards it.
Not daring to breathe, Heather drew backward, away from the approaching monster. She slid first one leg, then half her bottom out from under the blankets. The rest of her followed in a slow and snake-like slide. Soon Heather was under her bed, crouching on her knees and hugging herself as close to the floor as possible.
Linda didnβt cry out. There was a snarl, a snap of the monsterβs jaws, and then a gurgling and gushing sound. Dark liquid began to soak into the sheets of Lindaβs bed, where they were hung loosely off the side of the mattress. Heather couldnβt do anything but stare, lost in the insanity of the moment that was happening before her eyes. The sounds she heard, of teeth gnashing against muscle and sinew and crunching over bone, slowly drove her mad.
After several long minutes, the creature moved. Heatherβs eyes followed its progress as it made its way on all fours to the open window. One of its hands, or paws, reached up and tore at the lace sheers that were barely in its way, a gesture of pure unnecessary destruction. It turned its head to look directly at Heather, obviously aware of her presence beneath her tall bed. Heather felt her innards clench then go soft as she realized the monster held an arm in its teeth, her sisterβs arm. The remaining twin clapped her hands tightly over her mouth as she tried not to scream. This made the creature seem to nod its colossal head. Then it turned and slipped out the window without a care to what devastation it had left in its wake.
Hours later, Tracy flung the door open, screaming at the sight that met her hopeful gaze. Lindaβs bed was evidence that she had been right, that when her husband went to see why the dogs werenβt barking and noticed the girlsβ bedroom window open, that something was wrong. Tracy threw herself pointlessly onto the blankets, tearing through them as if searching for something β or someone.
Roy came in then, a big bulk of a man. He towered over his despairing wife, shocked himself by the amount of blood and gore that Tracy was now covered with so quickly. Then he moved and looked around the room.
Heatherβs bed was empty.
βHeather!β he shouted, staring at the window. But there was no response, no reply.
Then he looked at the side of the untouched bed of his second daughter. A puddle of liquid had pooled there on the floor, staining the carpet a darker colour β but it wasnβt blood. It had leaked from under the bed.
Roy picked up the bed quickly and tossed it to the nearest wall, exposing his lone daughter curled up over herself on the floor. Tracy turned and scooped the girl up and into her arms, cradling her. She searched all over her petite body for wounds or injuries, looking for any clue of what had happened to Linda. Heatherβs hands were still clasped over her mouth, and it took all of Tracyβs strength to pry them off.
βCalvin!β Roy called out to the officer in some other part of the house. βCalvin, come here! Now!β
Then the big man knelt over his wife and child, cradling them both in his heavy arms.
βHeather!β Tracy sobbed over and over again. βHeather! Heather!β
βWhat happened, baby girl?β Roy asked, tears pouring down his cheeks.
Officer Ernest Calvin entered the room, one hand on his holster, the other squeezing the talk button on the radio hooked to his coat collar. He studied the scene around him carefully, saying nothing.
βHeather?β Roy asked, looking into Heatherβs sightless wide eyes. βHeather, what happened?? Where is your sister?β
Heatherβs lips moved, puckering up tightly until wrinkles surrounded her lips, her cheeks sucked in. Barely any sound came from those lips, but there was something. She was definitely trying to say something.
Leaning down, Roy turned his head and put his ear towards his daughter, struggling to listen.
βW-w-wβ¦.β the little girl said ever so softly. βWolfβ¦wolfβ¦..wolfβ¦.β
π§ Available Audio Adaptations: None Available
Written by K.P. Whitlomb Edited by N.M. Brown Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek Narrated by N/Aπ More stories from author: K.P. Whitlomb
Publisher's Notes: N/A Author's Notes: N/AMore Stories from Author K.P. Whitlomb:
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Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).