Tuesday Tales: From a Picture

Welcome to this week’s Tuesday Tales. Since it’s picture prompt week, our scenes are limited to 300 words! I’m continuing with Pumpkin Spice. Here’s the picture I chose. Isn’t he handsome?

What the hell had Aunt Selma gotten herself into? No wonder she’d chosen not to sleep in the house. Any one of these guys could snap her, or me, in half like a twig. If a cat the size of Peanut was afraid of them, then so was I.

“Good afternoon, Elvira.”

A man, possibly the leader of this band of ne’er-do-wells, stopped before us, the other five still on the staircase, reminding me of a choir ready to perform. One had hair pulled back into a long ponytail. Had I mistaken him for the woman in my room?

The one closest to me resembled a bodybuilder, but for him, given his overall hairiness, the muscles weren’t just for show. He had a full but neatly trimmed beard, black horn-rimmed glasses, and wore jeans and a black t-shirt with Salem and its witch on a broomstick emblem across the front. When he leered at me and grinned, he displayed the whitest set of teeth I’d ever seen. Either they were false, or they’d been recently overbleached. If Lou were here, he would have something to say about the dangers of that!

Icy fingers crawled up my spine, and I had to force myself not to squirm and run away.

“I’m hungry enough to eat a horse today.” He raked me up and down, making me feel self-conscious. “Who’s your friend? Selma said the house was closed to visitors except for a few hours in the evening. As cute as she is, she’ll have to go.”

And just like that, my rubber backbone turned to steel. Who the hell did he think he was? Since when did the guests talk to the staff as if they owned the place? My hackles rose, not a good thing. I had to go?

Not bloody likely, buddy.

That’s it. Stay safe and don’t forget to check out the other Tuesday Tales