A Letter from Teddy

Warning: Strong Language, Mature Themes, Graphic Violence

The following is a macabre tale of horror and a perverse comedy. A short piece of fiction exploring a darker surreality. The premise is a letter from a childhood toy.

I'm coming for you, Sully.

I'm coming for you. Tonight.

You won't see me coming, you won't hear me coming but you will know when I am there slitting your throat.

I am gonna toss your pieces in the shadowy corner where you left me lying for weeks. And in the closet where you left me to rot for that one Summer when you went off to the lake with the family. I am going to stuff you in the trunk in that basement where your mother buried me when you went off to College. 

You sunnuvabitch!

You have any idea how fucking disgusting all those places were. The ants and cockroaches crawling all over you, mice nibbling at your face tearing out your buttoned eyes. Moths burying deep into your flesh chewing constantly. All they left was this rotting husk. The husk that is going to come for you, tear you into tiny bits and let the creepy crawlies gnaw at your flesh.
See how you like it, you fucker.

"Signed... Teddy." I finished reading his letter and sighed.

"Teddy, you were always such a drama queen," I said calmly. Then turned to look one last time into the cold hate-filled eye that Teddy still had hanging on by a thread.

"But you should have stayed away." And with that I tossed him into the preheated oven.

"You really should have stayed away," I said grinning to myself perversely enjoying the screams of my childhood toy.