The Wicker House by Plamen Vasilev

The Wicker House by Plamen Vasilev

The crash was terrible. Two cars and a tanker truck had crashed into each other. The truck was on fire and there were two bodies sprawled on the tarmac. Firemen were struggling to put out the fire, the ambulance was making its way through the cars. A policeman approached Millen’s car. He rolled down the window and the heat from the thirty-seven degree heat rushed straight into his air-conditioned car.

“- We would divert the cars through the sub-balkan road.” – The cop said. “We won’t be able to clear the highway soon!”

Tony nodded and started the car. He was on his way to the sea, but obviously this unforeseen accident would delay his plans. Tony grooved the tires passing the second ambulance coming to the accident. He dropped his jeep and headed for the sub-balcony road. He turned off onto a two-lane road, passing a sign for some town. In his thirty years, Tony had never driven this road. The sun was baking and Tony closed the window, the car’s air-conditioning running at maximum power. The radio cut out, apparently there were no stations here. He pressed the button but nothing. He played music from his phone through the bluetooth radio. He looked in the mirror but there was no one behind him. “Apparently people have decided to go through elsewhere?” he thought. He turned up the music and sped up his car, but immediately slammed on the brakes.

“What’s this?” he thought when he saw a very thin and at the same time very tall gentleman on the road, all in ragged clothes that stood like a coat hanger and a ragged hat on his head. His face was wrinkled and all covered with lichen, warts and sores. Holding a strange but large rifle he urged him out of the car.

Tony turned off the car and got out. His well chilled body started to melt like ice cream. He raised his hands, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. Fear gradually overcame him…

‘Bam-bam.’ The strange rifle burst through the windshield of his new car, and then punched a hole in the hood.

Tony went into shock, his legs now trembling with fear. He tried to say something, couldn’t. The gun was smoking pointed at him.

Skinny urged him to follow a small path through the grove by the roadside. Scared to death, Tony set off sobbing. The path led through a cool pine grove, and came to a creepy wicker house. The house was a one-story structure entirely woven with colorful but time-worn yarn. The roof was also knitted, there were no tiles, but it was entirely of red yarn and the base and walls of interwoven yellow and blue yarn. The windows were of transparent cord, and the door of interwoven brown and black yarn.

The frightened Tony gasped when he saw the house. He had never seen such a marvel of human thought. He had created two computer games himself and had never even thought of such a thing. Tony stopped and started to look around the house, but the skinny one propped him up with the shotgun and he continued in a startled manner.

– ‘Oh, ooh…’ Skinny cried inarticulately. The door of the house opened and a plump babe with a huge bust almost popping out of the neckline of her pink short dress was revealed from inside. She grinned and with a practiced gesture moved her bushy blonde hair. In her mouth, her brownish-yellow teeth moved making way for a tongue studded with multiple piercings, collectively producing a disgusting squeaky voice:

“- Gerard, are you bringing us a new guest? “The chubby lady’s ears were studded with kitschy pink earrings shaped like human skulls.

– ‘Oh, ah…’ replied the long man. He took off his hat and jerked the rifle again at the guest, who jumped startled and started for the door. The lady made him a gesture of welcome, taking hold of his short dress and crouching gracefully as he passed her. As he passed she sniffed the air after him and said:

“- Mmm…smells like fear!” her tongue with all the piercings on it licked her lips.

Tony heard this and stumbled over the wicker threshold but could not fall. He stayed on his feet and looked around the room in which he had fallen. The smell the room gave off was of sweat, feces and shortness of breath. The walls were knitted with orange yarn, of course soiled by time. There were also dark red stains here and there. The ceiling was logically made of white yarn and the floor was covered with a braided blue carpet. There was a long table in the middle, and at the end of it stood an elderly man with huge grey-white eyebrows, clean-shaven and clean bald. His grey suit, was terribly shabby, and had been mended and patched here and there.

On one side of him sat two young boys not more than twenty years of age, and opposite them a young and refined lady in a black suit and white shirt, the collar of which was soiled, beside her sobbed a lady of a little over forty, with short red hair, wearing a light blue peignoir. The boys looked at him with sad eyes. They were wearing t-shirts and shorts. They must have travelled to the sea like him, he thought. The elderly bald man looked him over from head to toe, grinned showing his yellow-brown thinning teeth, and said in a commanding tone:

“- Sit next to the young men that Greta is bringing lunch.” – The fluffy lady giggled infantily and ran to the next room. The adult motioned for Gerard to approach as Tony sat down. Gerard squatted in front of his master and clucked his tongue contentedly like a dog. The balding old man patted him on the head, then took his rifle and propped it up beside his chair, then chided Gerard with the words:

– ‘March out, dog.’ The cowardly long-legged man stood up and ran out of the door. Tony watched this scene with both fear and loathing. Then the master of the house turned to him

– “Welcome to our humble home!”- Tony started to say something but the boy next to him growled at his stomach to shut up, and the bald man continued to speak: “You can feel at home here. Greta cooks us delicious food and Gerard brings us new and new guests…

Greta burst into the room carrying a large ceramic soup tureen. She placed the soup tureen in the middle of the table. Then she walked out and came back twirling her big ass defiantly to serve everyone a plate and utensils. When she got to Millen, she pinched his cheek and winked at him.

“- What deliciousness are you going to delight us with today, darling?” – asked the elderly bald man.

– Daddy, today I’ve made you your favorite bloody-eyed soup from the last three naughty guests. – She licked her pierced tongue. Her father glanced at the soup tureen with satisfaction, and Tony looked around at the others, who looked on with displeasure, but obviously had no choice. But the woman in the light blue peignoir stood up picked up the ceramic soup tureen and slammed it to the floor with all her might. The soup tureen didn’t break, but the bloody soup spilled and several human eyes took to watching them from the floor. The lady screamed with all her might:

“- I’m fed up!” she grabbed Greta by the hair in a fit of rage and started plucking her, and Greta shrieked. Tony saw the old man stand up and raise the rifle, and everyone else stood with their heads bowed. He turned the table sharply. Then everyone was standing up. The young men beside him looked at him fearfully.

– Help me!” he pleaded as he jumped over the table and lunged at the old man.

The rifle had fallen back somewhere, Greta had also reached the woman with the peignoir and the plucking became more fierce. Tony struck the old man with his fist, who cried out:

– No, let go of Gerard – He stopped and stuck his bloodied tongue obediently next to the old man pointing the strange rifle at Tony’s head. The man raised his hands in fright, followed by a blow to the head from someone with something heavy and he lost consciousness.

A grating sawing sound woke him. His head ached badly. Opening his eyes, he was startled! His eyes met the bulging eyes of the woman with the peignoir. He screamed and tried to get up, but felt his hands were tied. He was on the floor! He looked around, glancing above him he saw the disgusting sight beneath Greta’s skirt. She had no underwear on, but there was so much tangled hair he couldn’t make anything out, then he heard her voice, mumbling something:

“- Mmm, do you like the view?” a bloody drop dripped from her mouth and fell on his face. Tony shook his head negatively. A shot to the groin followed. He bent over putting his bound hands between his legs. His headache, swept to his genitals. Behind her, Gerard was slicing the woman with the peignoir, and Greta stole a piece of meat and flicked again with satisfaction.

The tied man felt his legs go free and when Greta turned her back on him with difficulty he quietly stood up. She gave Gerard a small knuckle of meat in his mouth, Gerard contentedly began to lick it. Tony saw two human butts hanging from hooks, probably also from the woman in the negligee. It was obviously in the kitchen, and he would be next. So he took the murdered woman’s head in his bound hands and threw it at Gerard, saying:

-“Hold on puppies.” he quickly jumped to catch her with his mouth, apparently out of habit, and Tony kicked Greta in the stomach who turned to him. She falling hit her head hard on the countertop. Blood flowed from her head. Gerard grabbed the head by the nose and looked at it like a grateful puppy. But that only lasted a few seconds until he realized what had happened to Greta. Gerard crouched beside her and began to sob pitifully.

 The guest hadn’t expected it to be so easy, but he kicked Tsonyo in the head with all his might and he fell unconscious next to Greta, the woman’s head in the peignoir rolling next to them. Tony quickly found a knife and cut the rope. There was no one in the dining-room, and he dashed along the woodland path by which he had been led. It was getting dark, and the stars were shining in the sky, he stopped for a moment and looked at the wicker house sunk in darkness. An ominous idea passed through his head. Quickly he reached his car. He opened the trunk, there were two cases of vodka. He took them in his hands and went back. He doused the house with all the vodka and took out a lighter. But he felt a faint stab in his back. Turning the bald old man swung a shovel, but Tony moved aside this time. He lit the lighter and threw it into the house, which immediately burst into flames. The old man cried out:

– No, no… – he started towards the house, but the fire scared him. Tony, however, pushed him into the house itself. The bald old man burst into flames screaming in pain and burned in front of Tony’s smug face. He immediately returned to his car, and turned the key. There was a deafening noise but the car started. Immediately he turned and headed for the highway. Now he thought of the other people, what had happened to them? But then he said to himself, “They didn’t deserve to live if they didn’t fight!” But was he right?

There was a knock on the glass of his car. Tony woke up. He saw that he was parked on the highway, and there was an accident in front of him. He rolled down the window and a blonde and fluffy policewoman motioned for him to turn around and go back down the subway. Tony looked at her, she seemed familiar. He grabbed the car key, but stared at his glass. It was tight! Had he been dreaming? The policewoman leaned her huge bust popping out of her uniform through the door window. She said showing her tongue studded with piercings:

“- Honey, did you eat your bloody eye soup?” Tony recognized her and frowned. It was Greta! She winked at him and added, ‘You’re invited to lunch at the wicker house…’

* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright Plamen Vasilev 2026

Image Source: FreeFunArt from Pixabay