The Charlie Brown Photo
I went over to my grandpa's house and I knocked on the door, but nobody answered. I kept doing this for about 8 minutes. I was sure he would've answered by now. I went into the house anyway, worried that something happened to him. The strangest sight met my eyes: in the kitchen, there was a big old photograph of a boy who looked virtually identical to the Peanuts character, Charlie Brown. It was on the fridge and there was BLOOD WRITING! It said "Soon."
I didn't know who's blood that was but I was terrified. I ran back to my grandpa's bedroom... and I saw a mound under the blanket. I moved closer and closer and I lifted the blankets back carefully. What I saw next made me scream. The Charlie Brown boy from the photograph was underneath the blanket... and he was dead. I was freaking out, but then I backed up into my grandpa. He had blood all over his hands. Grandpa? The killer? Or Grandpa... the man I love? I had no idea what to think. Then grandpa spoke.
"I know what Charlie Brown did last summer. He's been a very naughty boy. I killed him."
Then grandpa started laughing like a maniac. I started trying to run from the house, but I saw the photograph again. It started bleeding. I realized now that the photograph must be cursed. I took it off the fridge and threw it into the fireplace, burning it to ashes. Grandpa caught up to me and pulled out a second copy from his back pocket, putting it on the fridge.
"There. The handsome little boy who I killed. Hee hee hee!"
"What the hell grandpa?" I said to him quietly, shaking.
"I've been watching Charlie Brown on TV for years, and the last episode I saw made me want to die... so I found a boy who looked like him and took photos of him just to remind me of how much I HATE CHARLIE BROWN!!!! AAHHH!!!!!!"
He ran towards the fridge and started shaking it violently.
"FUCK YOU, CHARLIE BROWN!!!!"
The boy who I thought was dead had entered the room at the point. I screamed again.
"Isn't it past your bed time, old timer?" he said in a polite voice. He pulled out a gun and shot my grandpa in the head. I started running away but he shot me in the leg and dragged me into the bedroom somehow.
"You carry on a bloodline of hatred and anger. I must now kill you like he had tried to kill me."
"Nooooo!!" I screamed.
"Yes." he said.
"Nooooo!!" I screamed.
"Yes." he said.
"Nooooo!!" I screamed.
"Yes." he said.
"Nooooo!!" I screamed.
"Yes." he said.
"Nooooo!!" I screamed.
"Yes." he said.
"Nooooo!!" I screamed.
"Yes you fucking idiot. You fucking moron. You goddamn jackass. Yes. I will kill you." he said.
"But what about the photograph? I destroyed it." I replied.
"The photograph is a cursed image. You will be sorry you ever laid eyes on....."
He stopped speaking. I noticed a sword sticking through his chest. Grandpa had somehow survived the gunshot to the head. He was bleeding heavily, but his sword cane had managed to pierce the evil Charlie's body. Charlie fell over and didn't move again.
Grandpa took another copy of the picture out. "Take this photo... before I'm gone... pass it on to someone... before it's too late... please.... you will escape the curse... please... take it..."
I took it and escaped the house. Later on, I managed to pass it off as an antique painting after I had framed it. Wherever it is now, I hope to god Charlie's ghost never finds me. If he does, I'll give him a rock.
Even as I sleep, I sometimes see that photo in my dreams, along with Grandpa with blood on his hands...
Written by Meaty
Content is available under CC BY-SA
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