Escape from death. Scary short story
One girl was very afraid of dying. When she thought about death, she became so frightened that several times she even lost consciousness.
And she was afraid not only of her own death. She was afraid for her mother and father, her little brother, and especially for her grandmother, since her grandmother was old and should have died first.
Mom often had to calm the girl that she would live for a very long time. And her brother, and she with her dad, and even her grandmother will live a long time too.
"In one year, there are three hundred and sixty-five days, each day has twenty-four hours, each hour has sixty minutes, and each minute has sixty seconds. How much is it in total?" mom asked.
But the girl could not count so much.
"You see," mother said, "that's a lot. We will live for a very long time. And a very long time - means we will almost never die."
The girl calmed down, but not for long.
Once, when the girl was coming home from school, an unfamiliar boy was waiting for her near the house. He was smaller than she was, but he had grown-up tired eyes and gray hair.
"So, you are afraid of Death," said the boy. He did not ask but said in a way that made it clear that he knew everything.
The girl nodded.
"Do you want me to teach you how to run away from Death?" asked the boy.
"Is it possible?" the girl was surprised. Her mother didn't tell her about it.
"Look at me," the boy said, "I've been running from Death for over a hundred years now. And I can run ten times more. And in one year there are three hundred and sixty-five days, each day has twenty-four hours..."
"...each hour has sixty minutes, and each minute has sixty seconds," the girl continued, "that is a lot, I know."
The boy nodded.
"But for this you will have to give me the life of someone from your family," the boy continued, "for example, your brother."
The girl shook her head. She feared for brother's life no less than for her own.
The boy looked at her with his adult eyes and realized that the girl would not give him anyone.
"Well," he agreed, "look".
He walked over to her and held out his hand. There were three laces in his palm. The boy began to weave a pigtail out of them, although not an ordinary one, but a completely different, more complex one. The girl carefully memorized everything.
"What did you do?" she asked when the boy had finished weaving.
"If you pigtail your hair like this, you will get a strong thread that the scythe of Death cannot cut. Do you know that people die when Death cuts the thread of life for them?"
The girl nodded - she had read about it in a book about ancient Greek heroes.
"When Death cannot take your life, it will be very angry, but you will have time to escape. And remember, when Death cannot take you, it will take others, those who are close to you. And one more thing - you need to weave at night, when Death does not see, otherwise it will come and cut the thread before you have time to finish it."
"Can I weave the thread of life to other people?"
The boy shrugged his shoulders, but then said:
"Everything has its price."
But the girl no longer listened to him.
At night, the girl got up, braided her hair in a pigtail, as the boy showed her. Then she did the same with her brother, mother, father and grandmother. And only then did she fall asleep.
But in the morning, when she woke up, it turned out that she had woven a strong chain, one end of which was woven into her hair, and the other stretched far away and went deep into the ground, from where came the terrible roar of an unknown creature. The same chains stretched from the girl’s grandmother, father, mother and brother.
"What have you done?" said the grandmother.
"I wanted to save you from Death," the girl cried.
"But death saves us from an even worse fate," mother said.
And then something found them. It pulled the chains with force and dragged towards itself...
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