Clever John [Horror Fairy Tale]

“Where are you off to, dear?” John’s mother asked, nestled in her rocking chair, sipping her afternoon tea.

“To Margaret's, Mother.”

She looked at her son. Tall, dark, muscular; he was strikingly handsome.

“Be good and feed the chickens, dear.”

John went outside to spread chicken feed. He stared at the chickens for an hour straight, not moving an inch.

“Margaret,” he said to himself and began the long walk to the neighbouring farm.

John arrived at the farmhouse and knocked. A woman dressed in a skimpy negligee opened the door.

“Got anything for me, John?”

“Nothing. Want something.”

Margaret went back into the house while John stood frozen on the doorstep. She came back with a knife.

“This is my daddy’s, don’t tell him. It’s his best hunting knife.”

John took the knife and placed it inside his sleeve. Nodding to Margaret, he turned to walk back home. Licking her lips, Margaret watched him till he disappeared out of sight.

“How was Margaret's, dear?”

“Good, Mother. Got knife.” John fished the knife out of his sleeve and held it up.

“No baby, don’t put a knife in your sleeve, you’ll hurt yourself. Put it in a leather bag.”

John nodded.

---

The next day John’s mother was having her afternoon tea.

“Where are you off to, dear?”

“To Margaret's, Mother.”

“Be good now and feed the chickens.”

John went to the chicken coop. After staring for two hours he noticed one of the hens was acting unruly, stealing the others’ feed and throwing its weight around. He grabbed the chicken and wrung its neck till it went limp.

“Margaret,” he said to himself, tossing the chicken aside, and began his walk.

“What do you got for me today, John?” Margaret asked, leaning against the door frame, a tight black dress clinging to her ample curves.

“Nothing. Want something.”

Margaret grabbed John’s hand and led him to the barn. There, she showed him a goat. John took the goat and crammed it in a leather bag he found hung up on a hook. The goat was bleating so John tied the bag tight. He nodded at Margaret, swung the bag over his shoulder and left. Margaret watched John till he was out of sight, the leather bag swaying against his wide back.

John plopped the bag down in the living room.

“What have you got in the bag, dear?”

“Margaret gave goat.” John took the goat out of the bag. It lay on the floor without moving.

“No baby, don’t put goats in bags. You put them on a rope.”
John nodded.

---

The next day John’s mother was in the kitchen making goat stew.

“Where are you off to, dear?”

“To Margaret’s, Mother.”

“Okay dear. Be good and feed the chickens.”

John went to feed the chickens. After three hours he noticed that one of the hens was off in a corner by itself. He grabbed it and threw it hard to the ground, blood splattering on the dirt.

“Margaret,” he told himself, kicked the chicken aside, and started to walk.

“Anything for me today, John?” Margaret stood in the doorway in a revealing red dress.

“Nothing. Want something.”

Margaret grabbed John’s hand and led him to the barn. There she stood on her tiptoes and kissed John’s lips. Margaret showed John a young calf. John tied a rope around its neck. Margaret watched him go, biting down and licking her thumb.

Back at the house, the calf fought against the rope. John yanked on the rope and dragged it into the house. Once inside, the calf started to run around the living room in a panic. It broke a chair, a table and some fine china cups.

“Oh no, dear!” John’s mother yelled running into the room. “You have to take the calf into the barn.”

John nodded and dragged the calf into the barn.

---

The next day John’s mother was having tea.

“Where are you off to, dear?”

“To Margaret’s, Mother.”

“Be good and feed the chickens, dear.”

After spreading feed, he disposed of the two dead hens. He then watched the chicken coop till it was dark outside.

“Margaret,” John said and started to walk into the night.

“John, it’s so late. Got anything for me?” Margaret said, standing in the doorway, looking at John’s lips.

“Nothing. Want something.”

“Take me.” Margaret grabbed John’s hand leading him to the barn.

In the barn, Margaret pressed her body against John’s. His hands remind by his side.

“Take me, John.”

John looked around the barn. He saw a rope hung up on a peg.

---

The next day John’s mother was making breakfast.

“Dear, you came back so late last night, I was already asleep. How was Margaret’s?” she asked pouring John a cup of tea.

“Good Mother. Got Margaret. Tie her. Put in barn.”

John’s mother dropped the cup on the floor and ran to the barn. Among the hay and livestock, Margaret was laid out on the floor. Her eyes bulged out of her head, tongue lolling out of her mouth, face black and blue. Her dress was torn and shredded, bloody cuts covered her body. A rope was tied around her neck.

“Oh no, not again. Dear, don’t drag any more girls back here, you understand? And clean up this mess.”

John nodded.

---

This is my reimagining of a more obscure Brothers Grimm tale - Clever Hans.
Also my entry for this Halloween writing contest.

Thank you to @thinknzombie & @carolkean from the Writers' Block for making editing suggestions.