Mark Dray Author

Unfortunately this online publication has since closed down and this short story is no long available on their website. I couldn’t have been happier that this was my first published story. From the outset, I wanted to attempt a humorous horror piece. The criteria was ‘Love Has Teeth’ and it had the maximum word limit of 666 words.

Find the short story below with recognition to the original publication of Nightmare Fuel.

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Mary flinched as a shriek blared from the baby monitor sitting on the kitchen bench. From the corner of her eye, she caught the family cat Skittles darting from her vicinity in terror. She was certain the shrill didn’t come from the intended subject of the monitor, her baby called Love, but from her husband Joe. 

Her heart was still thumping when she heard her husband’s panicked tone, pleading through the small device with an increasing urgency.

“Let go, let go, let go!”

A long, pained howl lit up the monitor lights. 

“Jesus Christ!” said Joe. 

Mary let out a huff. “Joe! We don’t use that name in this house!” She yelled through the walls, performing the sign of a pentagram to ward off any good spirits. 

Joe walked into the kitchen, his left hand held upright. Blood was streaming down his forearm from the stump where his index finger had previously been attached to his body. On his right hip he held Love, who was smiling widely, blood smeared across her mouth like badly applied lipstick.

“Oh Joe, you’re getting blood all over the tiles,” said Mary, shaking her head as she threw Joe the closest tea towel to clean himself up. 

Joe caught the towel with his bloodied hand, the motion causing specks of bodily fluid to flick across the kitchen bench. 

“Here you take her,” he said, offloading the toddler onto his wife. He wrapped his finger tightly as he plonked himself on a stool. 

Love giggled as Mary began wiping her mouth with a damp dishcloth, inspecting the small child’s golden hair and porcelain skin for any other spots of Joe’s blood.

Once satisfied that Love was free from any further blemishes, Mary held the toddler up so they were eye to eye. “Now Love, say sorry to daddy. He’s a friend, not food,” Mary said in mock sternness. 

“I can’t believe she bit me! Can toddlers even eat human bones at this age?” Joe asked, squeezing the towel around his finger.

“Darling, she’s just teething. She was gnawing on the leg of the dining table the other day. And it should be fine, but maybe give the High Priestess a call at the Temple to double check.”

Joe shook his head emphatically while Mary repositioned Love in her arms. 

“No chance! Remember the last time when I asked her about Love’s diet? She just looked at me like I was an idiot! You know she refused to hex me for weeks afterwards.”

“To be fair though, you were worried about whether or not Love would eat meat,” she replied. “Guess you got your answer for that.”

“Not funny! My concerns were valid. Who’s going to follow a vegan Antichrist?”

Mary sighed. “Fine. I’ll call her later,” she said, looking at the baby now snuggling into her chest.

“Are you getting tired after your snack?” asked Mary.

Love’s eyes began their long blink towards sleep, and Mary carried her to her bedroom.

Joe heard the door close to Love’s room, and Mary reappeared in the kitchen. 

“Now give me a look at that finger, you big baby,” she said, playfully. 

Joe gingerly unwrapped the blood-soaked towel. The congealing blood had caused the cotton to stick to his stump, and he winced as he pulled away the cloth. 

The baby monitor lit up again, a low growl crackled through its tiny speaker. The unusual sound morphed into a hiss that caused a shiver up Joe’s spine before it fell silent again.

They listened intensely to the baby monitor.

Before long, it came back to life in a frenzy.  They were confronted with a crunch and then a wet, tearing sound. Joe jumped to his feet and grabbed his wife’s hand. Mary watched the colour drain from Joe’s face and his eyes widened, before he started to frantically look around the room.

“Oh, Satan!” he said, and he took off at a sprint for Love’s room, dragging Mary behind him as he screamed.

“Skittles!”