by: APScout | Complete Story | Last updated Nov 1, 2007
An old woman and a young girl meet Death on Halloween
Chapter Description: Here is my entry for the 2007 AR Board Halloween Contest. I hope you enjoy it.
Death Makes a Cherry
By the AP Scout [APScout@yahoo.com]
(c) 2007
Here is my entry for the 2007 AR Board Halloween Contest. I hope you
enjoy it.
This story contains AR AP S.
A cold northeast wind blew down from the hills above the town
scouring away any trace of clouds leaving the sky a chilly cold blue.
Despite the intensity of the sun, it provided no warmth as it
highlighted the golds, reds, oranges, and dark hues of that final day of
October.
The town of Agatha itself was a small Midwestern town with big
dreams, or at least the ambition of not becoming a sleepy little berg
where old folks come to die. For the most part, it was succeeding.
From the largest house in town, Charity Emily Wright looked out of
her upstairs sitting room window and scowled. Her aged face had dust
packed into its seams and beady diamond blue eyes looked out from a brow
that was frozen in what seemed a perpetual scowl. Her best days were
well behind her.
Even as she sat watching the townspeople put the last touches of
decoration for Halloween up, she could feel the bile rising into her
throat. She wanted to open her window up and shout that peasants should
not be cluttering up HER town with such vile trappings. She pulled her
sweater tighter about her hunched and boney shoulders with a talon-like
fist. It should have been her town, but her grandfather had sold most of
it off. [Idiots! They won’t get my house!] she thought savagely, [I’ve
seen to that!]
She leaned forward after she saw a scruffy looking character moving
up the street in front of her property. Charity’s nose wrinkled as if
she could smell the nine-year-old from her position. She turned her face
away and grumbled wondering if she should call the Child Services or but
then shrugged it away. This child was none of her concern or else the
little girl wouldn’t look so scruffy.
Charity’s concept of scruffiness was broad however. She disapproved
of girls who wore any sort of boys clothing, believing firmly in dresses
and skirts. She also believed that children should be seen but not
heard. Sadly, that was increasingly atypical these days.
Unfortunately for the recent and unsuspecting focus of Charity’s
thoughts, the kid was about as unladylike as one could get, though not
by choice. Gretchen Plumsworth had been, until the death of her father,
a well-fed and well-clothed child. That had abruptly ended when she was
four. Since then, she’d slid into the cracks of the system. She was
currently wearing clothing two sizes too small, not to mention having
nothing appropriate for the colder weather. Her shoes, nearly
disintegrating, seemed to represent her life as she shuffled passed the
big old house and the crabby lady who was living in.
Gretchen ran her hand through her unwashed shoulder-length
dirty-blond hair before rubbing it on her patched and rough-worn jeans.
She wasn’t even thinking about going out trick-or-treating like other
children her age; she was actually wondering where she would sleep that
night. Her mother had shacked up recently. Her mother’s choices of men
since her father’s untimely death were less than fatherly, which meant
she’d needed a place to sleep if she didn’t want to sleep on the
floor... or worse.
She stopped to shove a hand into her pants so she could scratch, not
minding the looks she got. Looking around, she saw a small paved walkway
leading off between two hedges adjacent to a lightly wooded area.
Curious and wondering if she could maybe find a good place to sleep
under the hedges, she started up the path.
After a few minutes of walking, she stopped and surveyed the area. [I
can’t hear the street...] Gretchen turned towards where she thought the
street should be and listened but couldn’t hear anything, even the wind
seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation. [Weird.] Shrugging and
curious, the kid started up the path again. She began tunelessly humming
to herself and noticed even that noise was muffled. The hair on the back
of her neck started to stand as a sense of unease crept over her. She
was about to turn back when she saw that the path opened up. Hurrying,
she came to a clearing.
The clearing held a tin-roofed shack that looked as if it’d might
fall apart at the slightest touch. Gretchen glanced about but didn’t see
anybody. If she were extremely lucky, it was abandoned and would make
for a great place for her to spend the night. Quietly approaching the
door, she peeked into a dirty window next to it but couldn’t see much of
the inside. Turning the knob, she carefully opened it and looked inside.
[Dang it... I wonder who lives here?] Gretchen thought as she took in
the sparse but comfortable looking furniture. There was a single
twin-sized bed with a warm quilt and an overstuffed armchair, which
patches on its arms. The floor itself was made of hard packed dirt and
looked recently swept. [Lucky!]
"You really should knock first," said a soft voice to her left.
Gretchen jumped and turned to face the voice. She spied a little girl of
perhaps seven looking at her with serious dark eyes.
"Uh..." the nine-year-old began, "Nice costume." The girl was wearing
a set of black robes and what looked like a headband with batwings
attached. Her hair was a midnight blue color and her skin looked pale.
"So... Where’s your ’rents?" One of the wings seemed to twitch.
"Oh, here and there," the kid answered vaguely.
Gretchen blinked. "Oo-kay... I guess I should go." [She’s probably
waiting for them to get back to go trick-or-treating.] It explained the
outfit.
"Oh don’t leave," the little girl begged, "I’ve been so bored. Play
with me." Gretchen looked dubious. "It’ll be fun."
"What’s your name?"
The strange girl gave her a small smile. "Death."
"Death?" [Is she joking?] The kid shrugged. It was probably a
Halloween thing. "So won’t your parents be mad if you let strangers in?"
"They won’t mind, Gretchen."
Alarm bells started to ring inside Gretchen’s head. "Hey! How do you
know my name?!?" She tried to find the handle of the door unobtrusively
but it seemed to have moved.
"I know lots of stuff," Death said with a soft smile, "Like that
Charity Wright’s coming up the path and will get here in a couple of
minutes.
"Huh? You mean that old ha... lady in the house below?" The old woman
had quite a reputation in the town especially among the children. She
was not someone you wanted to mess with.
"Yeah. Maybe we can all play together."
[Oh shit... Is this kid that old hag’s great-granddaughter?] "Play
what? Your grandma might not want me here..." Gretchen asked as she
glanced over her shoulder and froze in surprise. [Where the hell did the
door go?!?] It wasn’t where it was she thought it had been. The
nine-year-old looked wildly around and spotted the door behind Death.
[There it is.] Gretchen shook her head.
"She’s not my grandma. Hey Gretchen, you don’t look well. Do you want
a drink? I got some juice."
"No," Gretchen answered, "I should really get going." The young girl
pouted. "It’s just... That old lady’s so twisted and I don’t need her
like giving my mom grief, y’know?" [And besides this kid’s weirding me
out.]
"Oh Charity won’t rat you out to your mom," Death said confidently.
One of her batwings definitely twitched. "She’s here anyway so now we
can play." Just as she finished talking, a hard knocking came at the
door. "Do you want to get it, Gretchen?" Gretchen was more than happy
for an excuse to get closer to the only exit.
~ - ~
Charity Wright had come down to the end of her driveway, both to
collect the paper and to scold the young man delivering it for looking
like a hoodlum. His cheerful reply that it was Halloween had Charity
seething. She hated Halloween mainly because she had never gotten to go
due to her strict religious upbringing. That was none of his business
though.
She turned back mentally preparing the complaint she’d write the
editor the next day when she saw that nasty little tomboy vanish into a
group of hedges on the adjoining property. [What’s that brat up to?!?]
Charity thought and decided enough was enough. She marched, as much as a
ninety-five-year-old could march, up the sidewalk. [I bet she’s going to
break into a house.] She sucked her bottom lip thoughtfully, [But who
lives up there?] Charity couldn’t remember.
It took several minutes for the old woman to find the path the little
girl had taken and several more still to come upon the clearing and the
strange shack. "Little girl!" she shouted, "I know you’re up here!" She
waved her cane and stomped towards the door. "You’re not supposed to be
up here!" This completely ignored the fact that Charity was trespassing
on this property as well. "No use you hiding behind that door. If you
don’t come out here this instant, I’m calling the police!" She was
gratified when the door opened and she saw both the brat and another
strange little girl. "Where are your parents?!?" she demanded of the two
children.
"Oh, here and there, Charity," the youngest one answered.
"Char...? Don’t sass your elders, brat!"
"She’s such a baby, isn’t she?" Death inquired of Gretchen who had to
choke back a bark of laughter at the enraged look the old woman
acquired. "So are ya gonna play with me?"
"What are we going to play?" Gretchen asked, watching the bizarre
little girl with one eye and Charity with the other.
"House!" Death declared. "Charity here can be the little girl and you
can be the mommy." The old crone started sputtering incoherently with
rage.
"I don’t think she wants to play."
"True... She doesn’t really look the part. We need to make a few
adjustments."
Gretchen stared wide-eyed and slacked jawed as the old coot started
to glow. She watched the woman’s features twist. At first, Gretchen
thought the old fool was suffering but then she realized that decades of
wrinkles were vanishing. That took a few seconds to sink in and then the
young girl watched with even more interest as the old woman grew even
younger.
Frail bones hardened, grew stronger, her shoulders unhunched as the
crevasse-strewn face smoothed to show a more youthful appearance.
Sagging breasts firmed, inflated as age spots shrank, and then vanished.
Gnarled joints became supple as grey faded into long auburn hair.
Gravity seemed to reverse as mature womanly curves asserted themselves.
Charity looked almost blissful by the point she was in her early
thirties. However, Death wasn’t done. The former old battle-ax let out a
shriek as the change continued.
Gretchen watched with growing enthusiasm as now young woman dropped
through young adulthood to her teen years, shrinking in the process. Her
hair slowly lightened becoming more reddish. Womanly shapes vanished and
curves melted away. Tits deflated into nothingness. Legs and arms, once
long and shapely and dexterous shortened, became less strong and pudgier
as baby-fat was added. By the time Charity reached her age, she was
cursing, which set the nine-year-old to giggling. She seemed to hover as
seven but Death frowned and with a little more energy forced Charity
into a younger age. By the time it was over, she was no more than four
and looking up at two little girls, her former clothing lying about her
in a heap on the ground. Charity for her part, after realizing that the
long sought after youth had bitten her squarely on the hind quarters
plopped down onto her now well padded and bare bottom to have herself a
good cry.
"There," Death said over the wailing of the preschooler before her,
"I think now with a firm hand, this time she can grow up and not be so
grumpy."
"You weren’t shittin’ me, were you?" Gretchen asked Death. Death gave
her a tight little smile. "But how, why?"
"I was bored."
"But... you can’t, can you? Hey, if I’m gonna be the mommy... Does...
I mean, Ms. Death... Won’t God get mad?"
"No." The answer was so definitive the little vagrant decided not to
argue.
"So uh, you were saying about me?"
Death cocked her head and gave the nine-year-old a look. "Hmm...
Gretchen, ever want to be a grownup?" Gretchen’s eyes gleamed. "Thought
so." The little demon considered. "Okay, here’s a deal... I make you an
adult."
"A fantastic sexy looking one," Gretchen put in. She didn’t want to
end up looking like an old lady.
"Fine, a sexy looking one. And if you look after little Charity
here," Death indicated the still bawling little girl with her hand, "You
can have her house."
"NO!" Charity shouted, suddenly giving up her crying. The naked
little redhead sprang to her feet, ran over, and started hitting the
preteen with her little fists. "YOU MUSTN’T TAKE MY HOUSE! IT’S MINE!
MINE!" To an outsider, it looked like she was throwing a tantrum at her
older sister. Gretchen grabbed the younger girl’s wrists to restrict
her.
"I think we’ll need some clothes too. You can’t let her run around
like that, Ms. Death," Gretchen added, eyeing the preschooler before
her. Then a thought struck her, "Will I really be her mommy?"
"That’s the game," Death confirmed.
"NO!" Charity shouted.
"Go for it!" Gretchen cheered and closed her eyes in anticipation.
Charity stopped her tantrum and stumbled backwards as the older girl
began to glow. With a horrible ripping sound, Gretchen burst almost
immediately from her undersized clothing as she shot into teenhood. Legs
and arms grew longer as muscle was added. Hands transformed from
calloused and dirty to fine china white with lovely long manicured
fingernails. Dirt ran away as hips and thighs took on more womanly
proportions as Gretchen continued to age. Her tits swelled, continuing
to grow into the Double-D range. A tight ass complemented the small hips
and shapely thighs. A new forest of soft blond hair grew between her
legs, matching its soft down blond to the long curling hair flowing from
the top of Gretchen’s head to her waist.
When it was over, Gretchen looked her naked self over, struck a pose,
and smiled, "Awesome!" Twenty-four, five foot eight, and built like a
Playboy model. She cupped her large tits and tested their weight. She
giggled. "I love my new boobies."
"There’s just one thing, Gretchen," Death said.
"What?"
"You need to know what a grownup knows." She frowned. "And I don’t
think you need to remember about what happened either. That will mess up
the game. It has rules, y’know."
"I’ll get you! I’ll get you both if it’s the last thing I ever do!"
Charity shrieked and ran as fast as her little legs would take her from
these demons. She was not going to be raised by some overgrown little
brat. There had to be someone who could fix her!
Death sighed. The little girl that was Death watched as Gretchen
sighed as well and took off after her newfound daughter. Things were not
going to be easy, she could tell.
~ - ~
"LEMME GO!" came the shout from the small pathway, causing Clara
Huffman to turn and stare as a voluptuous young woman and a little girl
came running down the path. She recognized them. Little Charity, AKA
Cherry, was dressed in a pink set of overalls and a red and a white
T-shirt. By the looks of it, the cute little girl had her favorite pink
kitty-cat socks on, though her shoes looked muddy.
Gretchen Plumsworth had on a slinky black dress that seemed to hug
every sensual curve. Her brassiere had a tough time holding those boobs.
Clara sighed wistfully. She’d give her right arm to look like her friend
Gretchen did.
She didn’t wish her situation though. The young mother of one’s
husband was killed in Iraq the previous year. It left Gretchen to fend
alone with a very rambunctious three-year-old. She doubted her friend
would be alone for long even though Gretchen was very picky about men.
"Hi!" she called out to the two.
"Hi Clara," Gretchen replied with a grin and then turning back to her
daughter lifted the kid into the air, something that Cherry didn’t like
at all. "I told you," Gretchen said in a stern tone of voice, "If you
aren’t going to hold Mommy’s hand, I was going to carry you." Cherry
squirmed and struggled.
"I’m not a wittle kid!" Cherry yelled, "I’m a grown woman! Put me
down this minute, you meanie!"
"Boy, somebody obviously missed their nap." She winked at her friend.
"Stop that!" Gretchen commanded as her daughter grabbed her hair and
started pulling. She emphasized her point by giving a sharp slap to her
daughter’s ass. Cherry’s small eyes misted over with tears and her
bottom lip quivered.
"Maybe somebody should miss trick-or-treating," Clara said with a
frown at little Cherry. Cherry stuck her tongue out at the woman before
hiding her face against her mother’s shoulder. What did she care about
trick-or-treating?
"Not on your life, Clara," the young woman said coming to stand
beside Clara, "Not after I trucked all over hell and back to find the
cutest costume I could." Cherry’s response was unprintable. "It’s the
most adorable of bunny outfits. I even managed to get an adult version
for me." Gretchen winked and Clara grinned knowingly.
"Careful or you’ll stop traffic, Gretch."
"Well, I wouldn’t object." She struck a pose then smiled coyly. Her
friend snorted. "So the plan is to get her home, have her bathe, and
then she’s napping."
"AM NOT!" Cherry complained and started to wiggle.
"Young lady," Gretchen said sternly. "Do you want down?" Cherry
nodded sadly. "You going to hold my hand?" Another nod though this one
was very sulky. "Fine then." Gretchen put the preschooler down and held
her hand out. Reluctantly, the four-year-old took it and stuck her other
thumb into her mouth.
[I have to get away,] Cherry thought as her "mommy" and this other
grownup talked. [When I get a hold of Death... I’ll kill it!] She
considered her options and after a brief thought grinned mentally. [Got
it!] Squatting, she pretended to find a leaf on the ground interesting.
Enough pulling got the overgrown brat to let her go. After a few more
seconds, Cherry sprang to her feet and ran off down the sidewalk. She
counted every step until she heard Gretchen give out a cry of surprise.
"Charity Emily Plumsworth!" her mother thundered, "You come back here
this instant!" Cherry ran even faster. "Come back here!" The little girl
shook her head and ran.
She heard Mommy... the brat... giving chase so dodged up to the left
and started moving uphill towards her back door. [Maybe I can hide in
the bushes.] It was no use however; Gretchen had longer legs and was a
lot faster than she now was. [NO!] Cherry wailed as she felt herself
scooped into the air. "PUT ME DOWN!" she wailed but the older girl
wasn’t having any of it. "PUT ME DOWN NOW, YOU WITCH!" Cherry shrieked
as she was tucked under one arm while the young woman marched firmly
towards home.
"You and I, young lady," Gretchen said, in a hard disapproving voice,
"Are going to have a long talk when we get home."
"Good!" Cherry declared, "’Cause things are all fucked up! You should
be the kid!"
~ - ~
[What did they do to my house?!?] Charity wailed to herself as she
and her "mommy" came into what had been Cherry’s well-kept and very
outdated house. The dark woods and fine colonial furniture were now gone
utterly to be replaced by modern looking and brightly colored furniture.
"Now," Gretchen said to her daughter, "Let’s go get your bath."
"No fucking way!" Cherry retorted putting her hands on her little
hips and craning her neck to glare up at, the now, overly large brat and
her big tits. "You change me back to a grownup this instant!" Gretchen
frowned, "I ain’t doing what you tell me!"
Little Cherry was startled when Gretchen bent down, grabbed her by
the wrist, and pulling her closer used her other hand to deliver two
sharp swats to her now little bottom.
"I’m not gonna to put up with a potty mouth," Gretchen told her now
crying daughter, "You don’t talk to Mommy like that." Her mother let go
and little Cherry plopped onto her now sore rear and raising her little
fists to her eyes rubbed them angrily to try and get the tears away. "Do
you want a ’real’ spanking?"
"No," Cherry replied while sniffling and shaking her head.
"No what?"
"No MOMMY."
"That’s my girl. Then come and have your bath, Cherry. We’re gone a
busy night ahead." Cherry snuffled and crossed her arms.
"But I..." She began.
"I’ll count to three and if your little butt isn’t up off that floor
and moving to the bathroom, Mommy is going to get very mad."
Reluctantly, very reluctantly Cherry got up and started shuffling
towards the bathroom with Gretchen following right behind her. Minutes
later, Gretchen had started the bath water and was undressing her still
sulking daughter.
Cherry for her part was furiously trying to figure a way to get out
from under Gretchen’s paternal eye. [I don’t want a spanking!] she
thought and then added, [How dare she threaten me?!] But since she was
now quite a bit smaller than the former tomboy was, there really wasn’t
much she could do so, she suffered through the humiliation of being
undressed. She watched with a wary eye as her mommy rooted through the
medicine cabinet.
"Whatcha looking for, Mommy?" she asked.
Gretchen didn’t reply immediately, instead, she turned and turned the
water off before turning back to her daughter. "I think," the
twenty-something mother said, "We should take your temperature." Cherry
had to swallow a protest though it took some effort to do so.
Obediently, she opened her mouth but her mother sat down on the toilet
and lifted her up. "Sorry, Cherry. You’re still a little young for
that," she told her daughter as she laid the kid over her lap. Cherry
started to squirm but froze as a hand was placed on her bottom.
"No Mommy!" Cherry whined as she realized just how her temperature
was to be taken, "I’m not a baby!"
"Just hold still and we’ll get this over with," Gretchen commanded
and swirled the thermometer’s tip in the Vaseline. Cherry crossed her
legs and squeezed her ass together in protest but a gentle but firm tap
reminded her of what could happen. She relaxed and began plotting her
revenge for when things were back to normal. [Oh just wait until I’m big
again. I won’t bother with the police... I’ll handle this on my own!]
She was so busy plotting revenge that she didn’t even notice Gretchen
inserting the thermometer, or even when it was removed.
"Looks good," Gretchen said and then settled her daughter into the
bathwater.
Despite herself, Cherry liked being scrubbed and after a few seconds,
she forgot about the nasty little girl who had done this awful thing to
her. The big-boobed brat wasn’t too bad either. [No arthritis.] She
wriggled her hands and toes playfully. It had been decades since her old
bones didn’t ache.
"Now hold still," Gretchen chided her daughter as she was attempting
to wash her little girl’s tummy. Cherry squealed and wiggled.
"It tickles, Mommy!" Gretchen only grinned.
"I want to wash your tummy now," Cherry said to her mother.
"I’d get all wet if I got in. I have my clothes on." By way of
answer, Cherry cupped her hands and flung water at her mother. She
grinned impishly as the older girl sputtered and blinked away the soapy
water. "Young lady..."
"I didn’t do nothing," Cherry said, sticking a finger in her mouth
and looking cutely up at her mother who couldn’t keep her frown. "Now
you wet, you can come in."
"Will you take your nap if I do? No arguing?"
"Promise," Cherry said solemnly. She yawned then. [I could use a
nap.] She watched as Gretchen stood up and disrobed revealing a body
that Cherry wished she possessed. Before stepping into the tub, the sexy
young woman turned the water back on to add some more and to make sure
it stayed warm. Once her mother was settled, Cherry grabbed up a bar of
soap and started hunting for her mother’s ticklish spots.
This activity was made harder by the fact that Gretchen was clearly
intent on finding Cherry’s ticklish spots as well. Over the course of
the next few minutes, more water got onto the bathroom floor than stayed
in the tub but both were happy and little Cherry fell asleep snuggled
against her mother’s large tits while Gretchen was stroking her little
daughter’s hair and singing softly to her.
~ - ~
Slowly Charity Plumsworth opened her eyes. She frowned slightly as
sleep tried to keep its hold on her. [Oh, what a horrible dream!] she
thought. [Well that last part was nice.] She sighed. Maybe it was going
to be a good day. [I don’t hurt like I normally do... Arthur may be
taking a break.] That was a relief. She shifted only to be brought up
short by the realization that her body wasn’t her own. The little girl
sat up and looked around her bedroom. Everything looked huge. Her eyes
grew wide as she realized that what had happened hadn’t been a dream.
She was in a typical little girl’s room, though thankfully it wasn’t run
rampant with pinks but still contained a rather nauseating variety of
bright and cringingly cheerful colors. Stuffed animals, mostly bunnies,
sat neatly atop a toy chest against one wall.
"This can’t be happening," Charity almost wailed. She flopped back
onto her bed and stared up at the ceiling. "This ain’t fair! I’m a grown
woman. Goddamn it!" She crossed her arms and then thumped her small
fists onto her mattress. Her brain scrambled for an explanation. She
briefly considered running away but dismissed it as unhealthy for her
behind. [Mommy would really be ticked if I snuck off...] Then she was
mad at herself, [Fuck that! That brat is NOT my mommy!] But her real
mother had died so long ago and despite herself, Gretchen felt like her
mother.
She was pulled from her brooding thoughts by movement to her right.
Turning her head, she saw Gretchen looking into the room. The young
woman smiled as she saw that her little girl was awake. "Did you have a
good sleep?"
"I want to sleep some more," Cherry said while yawning.
"Nope, not now."
"Why?"
The preschooler nodded and stretched out her arms and her mother came
closer and lifted her up. "Well, it’s almost time to go out. We’ll eat a
quick dinner and then we can get you dressed and we can go
trick-or-treating."
"Okay Mommy!" Cherry agreed, deciding for the moment to play along
with the ruse. "I need to pee," she informed her.
"Well let’s take care of that first then," the attractive young
mother replied and gave her daughter a careful hug while leaving the
room. She was glad that Cherry hadn’t wet the bed.
~ - ~
After a quick dinner of soup and crackers, both girls got dressed in
their respective costumes. Charity wasn’t sure which offended her sense
of decency more, the disgusting cute neon pick bunny outfit with its
floppy ears and white powderpuff tail her mother had gotten her, or the
scandalously, and chill-inducing, bunny outfit Gretchen was wearing.
There were only two reasons Cherry didn’t make the scathing comments
she longed to make. First, she suspected that if she did, her tender
bottom would be as pink as the costume she was supposed to wear and that
was something she wanted to avoid. The driving force, however, was that
she actually wanted to go out trick-or-treating.
Her parents had never allowed her to do so before and she wanted to
take this opportunity to prove that her real parents, and not this
pretender, were correct in the matter. Of course, another reason Cherry
would not even acknowledge was the thought of the candy she would get.
She allowed herself to sulk a little when she was forced to sit on
the toilet while her mother dressed. But eventually the pair was ready
to set out for the night’s adventures.
Cherry held her mother’s hand as the two bunnies reached the sidewalk
running along the street and looked around. [Did they go on a
baby-making blitz?] she wondered as she saw children with parents
walking along the sidewalks in little groups. [I didn’t think we had
this many around here... ] She vaguely wondered if ’Death’ had had
something to do with it.
"This way," Cherry said, tugging her mother towards a brightly lit
house that had glowing jack-o’-lanterns and scary looking ghosts on its
front lawn.
"Don’t rush, Cherry. I’m sure they won’t run out," Gretchen chided
her daughter but started to head in that direction. They were almost at
the front walk when she spotted a familiar girl coming back from the
house towards the sidewalk. [Hey, that’s...]
"Hi Cherry, Ms. Plumsworth," Death said with a smile, "Get any candy
yet?"
"No!" Cherry pouted.
"Cherry," Gretchen chided her daughter and then sighed a little, "Oh
go on and get your candy, I’ll wait here."
Cherry wasn’t sure she wanted to leave the two conspirators alone or
not but the allure of candy overpowered her and the little girl found
herself skipping up the walk to the front door where a kindly looking
woman was waiting for her.
"Trick-or-treat!" Cherry shouted and held out the plastic
jack-o’-lantern.
"Oh aren’t you just adorable," the woman cooed as she rooted through
her bowl of candy, "Let’s see if I can find you something extra
special." Cherry’s rabbit ears quivered in anticipation. [Maybe she’ll
change back to normal!] She eyed the massive candy bar the woman
produced with anticipation. [Maybe that’s why that little brat was
here.]
Her dreams of returning to adulthood were firmly squelched by
Gretchen as the sexy woman came up behind her and said, "Remember now,
no eating candy until Mommy checks it." Cherry gave Gretchen a resentful
look, so didn’t notice the extra candy the lady scooped into her bag as
she gawked at the revealing outfit her young neighbor had on.
"Finished?"
"Yep!" Cherry giggled her pumpkin and heard the satisfying sound of
candy in it. "Thank you, ma’am," she added to the woman and taking her
mother’s hand turned and walked back to the street. [Where’d that little
devil go?] Cherry thought as she looked around but the preschooler
couldn’t find Death anywhere on the street.
They were just waiting at the second house for a bunch of older kids
to move off when another little girl came up the walk. "Oh," Gretchen
said, though it wasn’t clear what she was surprised about, "I think you
got competition." Cherry frowned and wondered what the big brat could be
talking about. Then she realized that the little girl approaching them
was dressed like a kitten. [I see what she means,] the preschooler
thought, [Boy, she’s cuter than I am!]
That of course wouldn’t do in the least. [You can grow up later. Time
to make sure you get more candy than this ’kitty’ does!] Cherry then
carefully proceeded to skip to the front door and said in her best
little kid voice, "Twick-or-tweat!" It was a guy handing out the candy
this time and he smiled and dropped two pieces of something into her
bucket.
Cherry was trying to think of a way to get more out of the rube when
her mother stepped up beside her. Cherry snickered internally as he
nearly started to drool at the sight of the sexy sight before him.
"Candy for the pretty lady?" he asked, offering the entire bowl to
cosplay bunny.
"My daughter’s holding the candy for both of us, sir," Gretchen
replied then giggled, "Besides, where would I put it in this costume?" A
normal preschooler might not have made much of the next bit of nonverbal
communications but Charity was thoroughly scandalized by it. [I never...
She doesn’t have to grope herself! I’m quite sure, he’d do it.] She then
blushed.
The kitten girl had to practically yell to get the guy’s attention.
Cherry smirked as he handed over a single, wimpy looking, piece of candy
before turning his attention back to Gretchen.
"Come on, Mommy," she told her mother as she headed down the walk,
"We gots lots more houses to go to."
~ - ~
It didn’t take long for candy to overflow the plastic jack-o’-lantern
little Cherry was carrying and was actually on her second one. She’d
gotten the second one thanks to Gretchen flaunting her bodacious assets.
It had been fun to watch the reactions of the people as they saw her
mother but Cherry was finding Gretchen’s costume was slowing them down.
She could feel herself starting to wear out and she wanted to make sure
to canvas every house she could before heading home. [I want some time
to eat this stuff before I get put to bed.] Cherry thought as she
mechanically placed her feet one in front of the other.
"I think maybe this will be our last house, honey," Gretchen said,
"I’m getting cold." Cherry glanced up at the former preteen and could
understand why, as the night had grown later, the air had gotten
chiller, and Gretchen’s costume wasn’t made for warmth by any stretch of
the imagination.
"Okay Mommy," Cherry said with a yawn. [And I think I’ll need to piss
soon,] she thought to herself as they turned into the house of an old
doctor Charity knew. [He’s a crabby old fart. Why does he even do this?
Just turn out your front porch light and the brats shouldn’t bother
you.]
She was about to go up the front steps when she froze. "Hey!" she
squawked as she recognized the girl who had turned to come down the
steps, "What are you doing here?!?"
"Gettin’ candy," Death said and came down the steps.
Cherry gave her a suspicious look before mounting the stairs.
"Twick-or-tweat." The doctor looked at the mountain of candy in Cherry’s
bucket and without a word dropped a pink toothbrush into it.
"HEY!" Cherry squawked.
"It’s trick-or-treat," the old doctor said, "I’m quite sure you’ve
had enough treats for tonight, little girl." He then looked to Gretchen.
"And you should go home before you catch cold, young lady."
"Stingy!" Cherry said and for good measure kicked him in the shin.
Before he could do anything, the kid turned and scampered down the steps
to where her mother and Death were waiting.
"Come on, Cherry," Gretchen said while taking her daughter’s hand,
"Let’s go home." They walked away from the doctor’s house, leaving the
man sputtering in outrage on his front steps.
Any illusion that she’d gotten away with kicking the man vanished as
Gretchen turned to her and said, "Charity Emily, that was naughty.
Apologize to the man."
"He gave me a friggin’ toothbrush!"
"Well, you’ll probably need a new one," Death pointed out, looking at
the candy the younger girl had. Cherry glowered at her.
"It still was not very nice, and rude little girls don’t get candy."
Cherry’s eyes instantly clouded with tears and her bottom lip quivered.
"Oh..." Gretchen sighed, "You’re too cute to scold when you’re like
that." Cherry suppressed a grin. "Let’s go home. I’m getting cold and I
think we have enough candy for this year." Cherry nodded and was about
to throw the toothbrush away but decided against it. Her mother went
back to apologize and quickly returned. As they started walking home,
Death fell into lockstep beside them.
"You want to go trick-or-treating too?" Cherry asked the odd
seven-year-old next to her.
"Sure, I like candy."
Cherry yawned, which prompted her mother to remark, "Maybe we should
wait to eat this candy tomorrow. You can go to bed when we get home."
"But I ain’t tired, Mommy," Cherry whined and then promptly yawned.
Her mother only gave her a knowing smile. "I wish I was older," she said
to the older girl.
"Like before?" Death said. Cherry glanced towards Gretchen but the
young mother hadn’t seemed to notice the remark.
"Not that old for Heaven’s sake," the former old bitty said, "Like
Mommy."
"You’ll just have to grow up then."
"No way, that’ll take forever," Cherry whined.
"Morning will come soon enough, sweetheart," Gretchen assured her
daughter, "Maybe I’ll let you eat one piece before bed, and then you can
have some more tomorrow."
Death only gave Cherry a wry smile and hummed to herself as they
approached the walkway to the former Wright house. The preschooler was
thinking that she could maybe bribe Death, or even use her current
cuteness to get her way, when she ran into her mother. "Sorry Mommy,"
she said but Gretchen didn’t even notice. The young woman seemed to be
frozen in place. Cherry looked wildly around until her eyes landed on
Death and she gave the odd girl a hard look. "What did you do?"
"You need to make a choice and I thought this would be simpler."
"What choice?"
"Do you want to go back to being ninety-five or do you want to stay
as a four-year-old?"
"That’s not much of a choice," Cherry muttered.
"One or the other," Death said, "I’d prefer you to be four
personally."
"Why?"
Death glanced at Gretchen, "To save her." Cherry blinked and looked
towards her petrified bunny-clad mother in confusion. "If you go back,
she’ll change back to normal... to what she was before. If she does
that, well... life won’t be very nice to her later on."
"She’ll die?" Cherry asked with a small quaver in hr voice. One of
her costume ears seemed to droop.
"Everybody dies," Death said, "Sometimes it just happens sooner
rather than later."
The little redhead frowned. "What about her parents?" When Death
answered that question, she sighed. She hadn’t not realized the poor
child’s plight. "So uh... four huh?" The older girl nodded. "Not even a
wittle bit older? Maybe twelve?"
"No," Death said.
"Please?"
"No." Cherry pouted. "So?"
"Jesus, I’m thinking!" Cherry complained and started rummaging
through her candy.
"I wouldn’t eat that if I were you."
"Why not? It’s mine," Cherry said.
"Didn’t your mommy say not to eat any before she checked it out?"
Cherry shrugged and started unwrapping a piece of candy. "Don’t you
think she’ll be mad?"
"I’ll deal with her," the kid said and waved the argument away. "So,
can I get you to make me a couple years older? Ten?" No response. "Eight
maybe? Pweeeeeease?"
"Four or ninety-five?" Death repeated.
"Not even for a candy?" Cherry asked sweetly, holding out some of her
prized candy to child specter.
"Make up your mind, little miss."
"Boy, somebody missed their nap today," the preschooler huffed and
then giggled as the older child gave her a sour look. She popped some
candy into her mouth and chewed it. [What should I do...?] She pondered
her decision. After a few moments, she shrugged. "Fine... four then. I
can tough it out for now. And with my brains, I’ll be free and clear in
only a couple of years."
"So four?"
"Yep!"
"Are you sure?"
"Positive!"
"No turning back."
"Just shut the hell up and unfreeze the brat... ugh... I mean my
mommy... so I can go take a piss." Holding it was very difficult in this
young body and there was no need to prove to her mother that she truly
needed the training pants she was wearing.
"Okay," Death said with a small little smile, "Four, you are then,
Miss Plumsworth... There’s just one little thing?"
"What?" Cherry asked as she popped another delicious candy into her
mouth.
"Well... Remember when I replaced the mind of your mommy?" The cute
little bunny froze in mid-chew. "I’m afraid that’s part of the package
too."
No! Cherry wanted to howl even though her mouth was full of sticky
toffee. She never got the chance. There was a bright flash and suddenly
the only thing little Charity Emily Plumsworth was worried about was the
disapproving look that her mother was giving her.
Cherry hid the candy wrappers behind her back and gave her mother a
cute closed mouth smile and a look that screamed, "I’m a good little
girl that didn’t do anything wrong." She was about to learn that her
mother didn’t believe her in the slightest.
Thus ended another Halloween Eve.
The End
Death Makes a Cherry
by: APScout | Complete Story | Last updated Nov 1, 2007
Stories of Age/Time Transformation