The first thing I noticed is that my grandmother’s door was open. She must be enjoying the summer breeze, I thought. I walked inside and was greeted by a strong metallic scent. I was confused, but assumed it was just what old people’s homes smelled like. You see, I’d never really been to the home of an elderly person, but I’d always been told that old people had a certain smell. I called out to her.
“Grandmother! Where are you?”
“Right in here, my darling” she said in a deep, almost animal voice. Probably just sick. I thought.
As I walked into her room, I saw her lying in bed. She looked different from the picture my mother had shown me. She was definitely a lot harrier, and she had bigger ears and a larger nose. The hair on her nose and face were blood-red in places. Perhaps she had died it to fit in with the new trends at the senior center.

“Why grandmother, what big ears you have!”
“Better for hearing you, my dear. Do come closer.” she said, grinning and revealing sharp, dog-like teeth.

I walked closer but stopped about 3 feet from the bed. “Why grandmother, what a big nose you have!”
“Better for smelling you, my darling. Please, closer, my eyesight is failing.”

It seemed reasonable, as she wore large, thick glasses smeared with some red substance. A lense was broken.
I sat on her bed and she examined me closer.
She ran the fabric of my red cloak through her fingers.
“Gorgeous cloak, my darling, I wonder if it would look good on me.”
She smiled again, with that big toothy grin of hers. I started to get a little nervous.
“Why grandmother, what big, sharp teeth you have!”
She cackled. “Why my dear, all the better for eating with.”
She then moved, quickly, with near super-natural speed, digging her sharp teeth into my throat and ripping it out. As I lay there bleeding on the floor, she laughed.