CreepyPasta - a collection

Come to Momma

"Come along now, Andrew." 

The boy wept quietly in the fading dusk, curled up near the wet earth of a freshly-disturbed grave. 

"Andrew Fletcher, I said come along," the voice behind him rasped. 

He sat up and read the gravestone near him. Here lies Samantha Julia Constantine: loving mother, unyielding widow. 1973-2011. No one he knew, but the inscription struck a chord. 

"I miss my mom," he whimpered. 

"But I am your mom," the voice lied. 

Andrew turned around to meet the figure: a squat, decaying lump of a creature holding a crude shovel and stitched-skin sack of bones. 

"No you’re not." 

"Of course I am," it gurgled. “Don’t you recognize your momma?" Its putrid lips curled to reveal a grin of rotting, flesh-speckled teeth. It twisted a strand of hair around its finger in what must’ve been an attempt at coy youthfulness. 

"No you’re not. You’re not my mom. You took her away!" 

The ghoul’s smile turned to a look of consternation. 

"Don’t you talk to me like that," she snapped. “Without me, you wouldn’t be here!" 

In her own way, the ghoul was right. If she hadn’t snatched up Ms Fletcher that evening two weeks ago, Andrew wouldn’t be wandering the graveyard, digging up and dismembering new corpses for a meal; that he would have just returned home with his mother after mourning for the late Mr Fletcher was of no concern to his new caretaker. 

Andrew rose to his feet. 

"I wanna go home," he said. 

"Andrew, honey," the ghoul croaked, “you’re already there." 

The boy looked at the bloated thing in the eye for a moment before bolting off down the row of headstones. With a sigh, the ghoul dropped its things and lumbered after him with surprising speed, quickly catching up and clasping his arm with a raw, meaty slap. 

"Andrew, how many times do I have to tell you? Your momma just wants what’s best for you." 

Andrew’s tears renewed as fetid breath hit his face. After some struggle he resigned himself, relaxing a bit and falling to the ground. 

"That’s a good boy," the ghoul cooed. She took his hand into her lumpy palm and stood him up once more. Andrew sobbed as he walked hand-in-hand with the ghoul through the foggy cemetery. “There there, Andrew. I’m sure some supper should cheer you up."