Maledine
Violet never liked her Nanny's tea. The taste often got stuck in the back of her throat. She cringed as she swallowed.
"You're not sipping it right," said the old woman. She grasped onto her cup with her two shaky fingers. The liquid poured down her chin, staining her shirt. Her grip loosened and the cup shattered on the ground, the insects and spiders scurrying up to feast upon it. "You sit there, Violet Madeline!" she screeched as she pointed four vibrating fingers toward the streetlight outside.
"It's Maledine."
The doorknob cracked as she turned it, splitting in half and shattering on the ground. This one's for the rats.
"The doorknob broke."
"Fix it."
"No."
She bolted to the streetlight and grabbed onto its pole. The darkness caused the light to flicker. There was a faint moan in the distance. She slid down to the concrete and broken glass. It started to rain. She watched as an empty paper cup beside her filled up with water. She picked it up but the water seeped out through a hole at the bottom of it. She heard a moan again, closer now. Her wet hair was caught in her eyes as she blinked. A bony hand appeared and brushed it away as she felt a breath on the back of her neck and heard an amplified moan. She turned but no one was there.
"Grab hold, Madeline," a voice said.
"It's Maledine."
And then her body was sent flying toward the streetlight. A bright flash charged through the pole, slinging her against the ground. She lost three fingers on her right hand, one on the left.