The gang of three robbers had been watching the old woman’s home for a week planning their robbery of the fortune she was said to have in her home. One of the robbers had remarked, “The old hag looks like a witch.” The others agreed and laughed.
Another said, “She’s so old she looks like she’s already freakin’ dead,” which was true. She was 99 years old and emaciated like a corpse.
On the night they planned to rob her house, they quietly broke into her home through a downstairs window when they knew she’d be asleep in her upstairs bedroom. In the casing of her house, they had seen her bedroom lights turned off at 9pm each night.
“Easy peasy,” one of them said. “Like stealing cookies from a kid,” said another.
Immediately after that, the air in the room became cold and heavy, breathing became difficult. The three robbers look at each other, fear in their eyes. “This is getting too damn spooky; maybe we should get the hell out of here,” one of them said.
“No way”, said another. “We still got a goldmine here.”
Then the room became dark like onyx, and each of the robbers felt enormous waves of fatigue spread over them with an attendant fear. They tried to run out of the house but were too weak. As the fatigue increased, they felt as if their lives were being sucked out of them. Then each of them heard a maniacial cackling in their ears before they fell to the floor dead.
A smile spread across the old widow’s face as she lay in her bed and bloomed into a woman decades younger.
Bob Boyd