There was blood everywhere! I checked my body and was relieved to discover that it wasn’t my own blood although, in a way, that made things worse. That meant the blood had come from the kitchen. When I found out the children were murdered next to the boiling cauldron, I gasped in horror. The little girl’s throat was cut open, the little boy’s head was cut off, and the youngest child’s chest was ripped inside out. That meant that someone killed the kids in order to cook and eat them.
When I opened the bloody boiling cauldron, there was a human heart, an infant’s skull, and toddler’s fingers. I shut the cauldron, and I tried not to scream. Then footsteps came down the stairs; I didn’t know who it was. I hid under the table so I would not be seen. It appeared to be an old, fat lady walking towards the kitchen. She was wearing body parts as accessories:  a flesh coat, a baby hand necklace, human hair boots and an eyeball bow. She grabbed the kitchen knife and began to cut the toddler’s leg. I didn’t want to look. To me, it was disgusting and repulsive. Without looking, I crawled out of the table and slowly stepped out of the kitchen to make sure the fat, old lady didn’t notice me.
“These kids should learn their manners,” she muttered. “When they don’t listen to their mama, they’re going to my belly.” Then she put the pieces of toddler leg in the cauldron, adding some powdered spice.
“Mmm mmm mmm,” she cooed. “This meat will taste so good once I eat it. The rest of their remains will be my fashion.”
I overheard what she said. The children were her minions, and if they refused to get what she wanted, she would kill them, eat them, and wear them as accessories. I shook my head in disbelief.  Then my phone rang loudly.
The old lady turned around to see what was going on. She growled angrily and walked towards the dining room. I shushed my phone, but it kept ringing. She was getting closer to where I was. I declined the phone call, but the fat lady violently grabbed my shoulders.
“A-ha!” she howled, “I’ve got you now! What are you doing in my house?!”
“I saw the bloody dead bodies in the kitchen,” I stammered. “I heard what you said.  You kill the kids because they don’t listen to your orders!”
“What?!” she snarled. “How dare you? You should never sneak into my house like that, young man!” Then her mouth began to glisten with saliva, drool dripping from her chin, and she licked her lips.
“I’m hungry,” she growled while glaring at my face. “I’m so hungry I could eat you.” Then she dragged me back to the kitchen where the big cauldron was.
“No! No!” I screamed. “Please don’t eat me, ma’am. I wanted to see what was in your house. I didn’t mean to. Please let me go.”
“I don’t think so,” she hissed. “You’re not going anywhere, mister. You belong to me. You belong in my stomach!”
“No, no! Please don’t kill me! You don’t know where I live!”
“Shut up!” She pushed me next to the cauldron.
“Get in there. I said get in the cauldron!”
“No, I don’t want to die!”
The lady got angry and pushed me into the cauldron, and I screamed. Suddenly, I woke up. Nothing happened. Did I have a nightmare? Yes, I did. I’m glad I’m not dead. I’m glad the fat old lady is gone. Then my mother called, “Sweetheart! Come on down! We’re having meatloaf!”