Aunt Marge Blown Up Novels & Stories

The younger guy next to him chuckles and looks down the Diner at us, he yells out, "mind your business, this is a family matter." The next sound we hear is the cocking of a shotgun, my eyes widen as Margie, pulls out a double barrell from behind the counter, points it at their heads and yells, "GET OUT NOW, or so help me God, I will rid this world of the both of you with one shot." Both men take a step back and sneer at her, she doesn't budge and I hold back my chuckle at her next words, "Leave boys now, my finger is getting real itchy."

Either I ate from the trash or I starved. I pushed myself up slowly and staggered toward the back of the house where the garbage bins stood. The stench of rotting food filled my nostrils, and bile rose in my throat again. But I suppressed the urge to throw up again. I knew Aunt Margerate and her daughter Cynthia followed me. So if I threw up now, who knows what might happen? As I stood near the trash bin, Aunt Margerate and Cynthia stood behind me, laughing. “Look at her,” Cynthia giggled. “Like a stray dog. Oh, wait—dogs have more worth than she does.”

"You did this-" I straightened, shaking my head in disbelief. Even now, standing before him, he still blames me. I let out a soft humorless laugh. "Still blaming me?" I asked coldly. "Even now?" Before he could respond the door burst open and the pack doctors rushed in, their voices overlaying as they moved toward Dustin to try to stabilize him. I moved away then, watching the scene. Margaret is dead. But who killed her? There was no stench of death clinging to her earlier, so she hadn't died from natural causes.

On the way back to the dungeon, the guards dragged me past the kitchens. A new maid was coming the other way carrying an iron pail. Inside it was the runoff from the slaughter shed in the back yard — blackened organ meat, clotted blood, a few flies turning lazy circles on the surface. She set the pail down in front of me. "The Luna says we can't let you starve to death." She smiled. "This is your meal today. Eat. Lick the bottom clean. We'll be checking."

I realized Margaret was going to ram our ship and sink us before we could escape, and I made a split second decision that probably saved all our lives. I grabbed the emergency flare gun from its mount and fired directly at Margaret's boat hitting the fuel tank, and the resulting explosion threw Margaret into the water while her boat became a floating inferno. Nathan yelled at me asking what I was thinking because now Margaret might be dead and we'd never get answers, but Blake pointed out that Margaret was swimming away from the burning boat with surprising strength for a woman in her sixties, she wasn't dead just temporarily stopped.

Rose, undeterred by the rejection, understands that her aunt is not in a clear state of mind. Gently, Rose tries once again to reach out to Margaret, offering her support and urging her to come with her. "Aunt Margaret, it's me, Rose. Let's go home, it's not safe for you here," she pleads, her voice filled with genuine care and worry. “Get away from me, you whore!” Margaret's response is a mixture of slurred words and resistance, as she continues to grapple with the effects of her intoxication. Rose remains patient, understanding that her aunt's condition impairs her ability to make sound judgments.

He didn’t know what to do next, but the detective‘s words took his mind off it. “I‘m sorry. I’ll have to deprive you of your rest. We have to go,” Margaret said without looking him in the eye. “What happened?” Darren asked in a soft voice that was out of character for him. “There has been an explosion. We believe it was deliberately... of course it's deliberate. The flea shop we were going to visit first thing in the morning was blown up,” Margaret explained.

I shakily went down the stairs and outside to wait for Aunt Marge, so I sat quietly and waited, not wanting to think too much about what had just happened or how hurt I was that Bran raised his voice at me. “Hey kid, come on,” Aunt Marge’s car stopped in front of me. Finally. I got into the front seat and kissed her cheek. “Hey, are you okay?” she asked. I nodded. I wonder if Aunt Marge is one of them too. She has lived here for so long. Or what if her husband is one of them? Well, it’s not something I can or want to talk about, so I’d just stay wondering. “Bye,” I waved when she dropped me off at home.

“I went to Margie’s place because she was not answering my calls. And you know what, I didn’t find her home. Her house was kind of ransacked and to my shock I found there my dead best friend Anton! His body was in the state of rigor mortis!” The odd lovers already discussed over the phone the other home invasion that brought the whole city to the depths of fear. Hugh did feel strange that Tess was not so emotionally affected by their batchmate mayor’s gruesome demise. But he has his own personal concern to deal with to even mind about how she feels about the headline-grabbing crime.

said Aunt Margie in a taunting tone . "Noooo it wasn't that I can explain...." said Cynthia but Aunt Margie intrupted."No need to tell me cooked up stories now ..i know you are a great liar but doctor already told me that you might have been attacked by any animal . The scratches on your body are the biggest proof ."said aunt Margie . "Yeah it was a wolf." said Cynthia . "My oh My i wonder how you survived a wolf attack ." replied aunt Margie. I wonder the same thing too, thought Cynthia . "Maybe i was lucky ..."she replied.