![]() The Bike And The Kid (Analog Horror)A Story by Martiya Daman![]() Not for children![]()
"Mary, time for you to go biking! Get your bike ready and wear your helmet!" Said Mary's dad. "Yep dad! I am ready!" His dad opened the bag she usually takes, and kept a bottle and a snack box full of biscuits and chips. He kept it in the basket of the the bike. Mary sat on the bike, and her dad opened the door. "We can finally clean this mess!" He said. Mary loved to make mess.
She rode out of the house. The wind was gently moving, the flowers were blooming with prosperity, the green grass passed by her bike, there were brick houses of the town and the sun was bright and yellow. It was a calming day. She had been riding for like half an hour now. She was tired, and decided to lay down. She left the bike on the ground, and layed. She started sleeping in a few mintues later. She was sleeping so deep she didn't realize the sky was being filled with dark clouds. In a few mintues, it started raining. Hours, and hours went by. There was no sign of her the entire night, and her dad and mom got worried. "Where is our darling?" The next day, there was a ring on the doorbell of their house. Mom opened it and saw just the bike and the bag. "Umm... Where is Mary?" She said, confused. She rang the bell on the bike, and there was a faint voice, but she ignored it. She took the bike inside the house. Over the next few days, their food went missing, Mary's toys were scattered around and there was a mess. Remember? "Mary loved to make mess." There were posters all around the town for Mary. One day, mom and dad cried on their bed in a dark, sad night. "Where are you Mary? Come back!" The mom cried. "Yes! Here!" There was a faint voice. She looked next to her, it was the bike. She gasped, she stuterred, she spluttered. She looked at the bike. The dad thought the bike was possessed. So he ran to the kitchen, took a knife, and thought of attacking the bike. He charged towards it, and he somehow sliced it as it was cheese or bread. But then instead of metal or plastic, it was... Flesh... Blood drip out and cries were heard. "Dad, why did you do this to me? Why? I will never forget this... Mary is here."
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2 Reviews Added on March 16, 2025 Last Updated on March 16, 2025 Tags: Analog Horror, Short Stories Author![]() Martiya DamanPoetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance..., IndiaAboutI am just writing stories & poems and making others smile, I like it. I am 9 years old and Indian, Glad you came to read my profile. It's definetly a pleasure to write here. My thought: Dreams are .. more..Writing
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