Wolves

Ever since he arrived at his aunt's house, he'd never suspected that room.

"You can occupy the room at the end of the corridor," she said when he first moved in."Don't ever enter the other room on the left. Don't enter it!" She added, her eyes full of fright. Even at that, he was tired and didn't think much of it.

Maybe that's where she keeps her dead husband's stuff, he thought.

That night, as he slept, he heard the most guttural screams he had ever heard. He couldn't sleep, rolling in his bed. That was sufficient to terrify him because they seemed to be coming from right outside the house.

The next morning, he came out for breakfast and met his aunt.

"Did you sleep well, Kevin?" She asked, a smile plastered on her face.

"I didn't. There were some shouts around here... Someone being tortured or..."

"Oh, it's probably just the wolves howling! Every night they feed on the flock of nearby shepherds."

"So you're saying those are wolves howling?"

"Oh, of course, Nathan."

"Why don't the shepherds protect their sheep?"

"It's the wolves. I think they wear the sheepskins and blend in..." She said, bursting into a loud cackle before stopping abruptly.

The story was crazy. She was twisted.

For four days he heard the screams, and almost began to get used to them. One morning changed this. He came into the dining and saw his aunt, looking disheveled. Her hair was scattered, and there were scratches all over her body.

"What's happened to you, Aunt Mary?"

"Sometimes, sometimes the sheep strike back ... Sometimes, the wolves need to apply more force." She said, fixing her eyes upon him.

That night, everywhere was silent. Then he heard a loud, bone-chilling cackle. He came out of his room to go outside and find out what was happening. He stopped, his heart cold with fright.

The noise wasn't coming from outside but from that room. The other room.

Kicking the door down, he barged in, noting it was dark. When his eyes adjusted, he was met with the most grotesque sight he'd ever seen. All over the ground were human bodies... except they had been skinned.

The whole place was musty, cold, and smelled like a slaughterhouse.

He looked up. Skins, skins of human beings, were hanging like clothes from hooks on the ceilings.

Then he looked at one particular skin. He'd seen it before. It was his mot...

A knock to the back of his head sent him reeling. He had a concussion and was unable to stand.

"Your mother was always perfect, so she was skinned perfectly.

He was shocked. So the screams...

"You see, Kevin, the beauty of the art is felt when the person is skinned alive. Their screams are the perfect melancholy music to spur me on," she said, producing what looked like a scalpel.

She dragged him almost effortlessly to a wooden chair, securing his hands with handcuffs chained to the chair's armrests

"I already had our mother in our collection, and I decided I wanted my dear and her son as well. Of course, it took a lot to convince her to send you here, but people will do anything not to get skinned these days..." She said, bringing the scalpel to his temple and pressing it into his skin.

He screamed, inciting a slap on his other cheek.

"Stay still, or I'll have to clamp your head down. First, the mask..."

She began singing. Listening to her, the last of his questions were answered.

He was a sheep, and she was a wolf.

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This is my entry for the @Jdine Birth Month giveaway going on at the Thriller and Horror Stories community. If you have the liver, gall, and heart to write and read a scary piece, you can join the contest using the links.

PROMPTS: dark twisted cold silent terrify

TIMER: Ten Minutes

Start: 6:50 pm WAT

Stop: 7:00pm