It was midnight when the screaming began. All the apples in the orchard opened their mouths and wailed.
Screeching their lament, the chorus of demon fruit shook the house from its slumber. It opened its shutters and peered inside itself. The house was shocked to find its innards teeming with scuttling humans.
It flapped its doors in distress. It shook its floors, rumbled its walls, broke loose of foundations.
Eventually, when the quaking had subsided, the apples lapsed into silent satisfaction. The infestation had been squashed into a paste.
The house relaxed, slowly returning to dormancy.
Writing begun 27 October | 96 words