Bogleech.com's 2019 Horror Write-off:
The Grinder
Submitted by Gozuforce
Once upon a time, when humans and animals still walked on the ground, there were two brothers.
They always had distrusted each-over, and they both lived in different islands. Between the two islands was another small isle, with a big forest.
This was still the age were humans used boats to cross the sea, and some hunted fishes in those boats. Such was the trade of the younger brother in our story.
One day, the younger brother left his home to hunt fishes. He was circling the forested isle, when he saw a man trying to burn the forest with his tools.
Now, the younger brother liked the forest, and he knew some of the trees were sacred, so he attacked the man. He sent him back to his boat, and away from the archipelago.
“Thank you, brave fish-hunter” said a crying tree that was standing near the sea.
“You saved my life, as well as my friends and family.
In I want to give you something in thanks.”
the crying tree pointed with one of its branchlets to the trunk of an old dead tree.
“Inside that trunk you will find a coffee grinder. It is not just any coffee grinder. It was made by a long extinct tribe with a magic since lost. When you spin its handle after saying the name of a food it can produce any amount you want. But, you have to say the name backward to stop it.”
The young brother profusely thanked the crying tree, and left the island with the grinder in his hands.
When he got home, he set it on his table, spun the handle and asked for fish. Instantly the grinder opened its drawer and a big silver fish jumped out. The younger brother saw other fishes getting out, one red and flat, one blue and fat. When he decided it was enough, he said “shif”. The fishes stopped flooding out of the grinder.
The young brother was humble, and he decided to keep the object a secret. He kept living on his usual trade, only making use of his magical artifact when he really needed it.
But one day, the older brother saw the younger one give an ample piece of ham to a neighbor who had difficulties feeding his family.
In this age, animal meat was an expensive food, so he knew that his sibling couldn’t afford that much of it, so he secretly went to his house and looked for an explanation.
Of course he couldn’t tell where did the wealth come from, and the younger brother came back to his island before he found it. The older brother hurriedly sought a place to hide.
The younger brother, not knowing anyone was home, went to his grinder:
“I don’t think I can fish for tonight, so let’s be self-indulgent for once and use our magic gift. So, what do I want to eat? Tomatoes? Potatoes? Fruits? No, let’s take some sardines and go to bed.”
The older brother heard that, and he saw him turn the handle, and him saying “sardines”. Then he saw a few sardines come out of the drawer and he heard his sibling say “Nedirasse”, and he saw the grinder stop producing the sardines.
Amazed by that prodigious event, the older brother knew he had to get hold of the tool for himself. So he waited for the younger one to leave for his bedroom, and ran, grabbing the grinder, out the house and into his own boat.
He fled for a few hours, afraid his sibling would catch on and chase him. As the night started fading to dawn, he got confident enough to pause and examine his plunder.
He wanted to test it, so he figured the simplest food was enough to begin with.
Of course, he was not entirely confident on how he could have the miracle happen, so he had to try a few times to get it right.
But in time the first loaf of fresh bread pushed out of the drawer. Then another one, followed by a baguette, a handful of bread-sticks, and a few buns. At this point, the older brother started to worry. The bread kept piling up on his boat, and some of it even fell overboard.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “I remember my brother said something to stop the grinder.
What was it again?”
The older brother couldn’t remember what he heard. The bread was starting to weigh on his boat. He knew that eventually the grinder’s production would sink him.
In a flash of panic, the image of his sibling stopping the grinder came back to him. He jumped at the handle and screamed.
“Nedirasse!”
The grinder didn’t stop. So, in desperation and frustration, he threw the object into the sea. And for a moment, he thought he had saved his life. He started rowing back toward his island, almost glad of not having the grinder anymore, and willing to appreciate the supplies he still got in the event.
After a few minutes, the older brother felt something slowing his boat. Thinking it was some sort of sandbank, he turned around the obstacle. But then he felt another one on his oar, and poking it, he noticed it was soft and spongy. Before he could investigate further, an island seemed to rise right in front of his eyes. Then his boat got raised by what he realized was a mass of soaked and mushed together bread.
You see, What he didn’t know was that the grinder has a rule for its production. If it isn’t stopped, it starts producing faster and faster. And no one knows if it ever could slow down.
The island he caused was growing more and more, pushing to the surface small sea creatures that were flopping helplessly on the new ground.
The older brother, lost on his boat among a landscape of bread pulp and ooze-like crust, tried to row on the thick matter. But soon his oars got stuck and sank slowly. His best efforts couldn’t pull them out.
A new desperation came to him, and, in a foolish last resort, he jumped out of his boat and into the bread sea.
But you can’t swim in the bread sea. Each of your movement is heavy in that matter, and the weight pulls you under.
One second was enough to deter him back to his boat, but it was too late, and he fruitlessly exhausted his strength trying to reach it.
As he felt himself sinking, he held his breath, hoping to rise again soon. Of course, he lost that breath without going up, and gasped, which filled his body with the deadly pulp.
The story of the bread sea doesn’t end with his death. The grinder, lost somewhere deep under the sea, continued producing bread, without anyone to tell it that was enough. The bread sea spread, surrounding and engulfing all islands of the archipelago, and before the following night, had caused the death of the younger brother and the forest he saved.
Many tried to stop the spreading of bread. All failed. No matter how mighty one could be, the breadsea and breadlands carried on their deadly growth. A few weeks were enough to cross seas, to eat islands and continents. The moist pulp of the sea gave way to the layer of dried crust on land, and both were death for plants, beast and men.
And it went growing that way until one day, after having seemingly covered the world, the breadlands weren’t moving any longer.
And that is why the world is now covered in moldy stale bread, neither humans nor animals can’t walk on the ground, and the seas are no more.
Life, as it is known to, had endured through. Some animals of the old times managed to find their place, while over the years new races rose that thrived.
The last of mankind had to learn the ways of the breadworld to survive, but they pledged humanity would never forget what had been lost.
They always had distrusted each-over, and they both lived in different islands. Between the two islands was another small isle, with a big forest.
This was still the age were humans used boats to cross the sea, and some hunted fishes in those boats. Such was the trade of the younger brother in our story.
One day, the younger brother left his home to hunt fishes. He was circling the forested isle, when he saw a man trying to burn the forest with his tools.
Now, the younger brother liked the forest, and he knew some of the trees were sacred, so he attacked the man. He sent him back to his boat, and away from the archipelago.
“Thank you, brave fish-hunter” said a crying tree that was standing near the sea.
“You saved my life, as well as my friends and family.
In I want to give you something in thanks.”
the crying tree pointed with one of its branchlets to the trunk of an old dead tree.
“Inside that trunk you will find a coffee grinder. It is not just any coffee grinder. It was made by a long extinct tribe with a magic since lost. When you spin its handle after saying the name of a food it can produce any amount you want. But, you have to say the name backward to stop it.”
The young brother profusely thanked the crying tree, and left the island with the grinder in his hands.
When he got home, he set it on his table, spun the handle and asked for fish. Instantly the grinder opened its drawer and a big silver fish jumped out. The younger brother saw other fishes getting out, one red and flat, one blue and fat. When he decided it was enough, he said “shif”. The fishes stopped flooding out of the grinder.
The young brother was humble, and he decided to keep the object a secret. He kept living on his usual trade, only making use of his magical artifact when he really needed it.
But one day, the older brother saw the younger one give an ample piece of ham to a neighbor who had difficulties feeding his family.
In this age, animal meat was an expensive food, so he knew that his sibling couldn’t afford that much of it, so he secretly went to his house and looked for an explanation.
Of course he couldn’t tell where did the wealth come from, and the younger brother came back to his island before he found it. The older brother hurriedly sought a place to hide.
The younger brother, not knowing anyone was home, went to his grinder:
“I don’t think I can fish for tonight, so let’s be self-indulgent for once and use our magic gift. So, what do I want to eat? Tomatoes? Potatoes? Fruits? No, let’s take some sardines and go to bed.”
The older brother heard that, and he saw him turn the handle, and him saying “sardines”. Then he saw a few sardines come out of the drawer and he heard his sibling say “Nedirasse”, and he saw the grinder stop producing the sardines.
Amazed by that prodigious event, the older brother knew he had to get hold of the tool for himself. So he waited for the younger one to leave for his bedroom, and ran, grabbing the grinder, out the house and into his own boat.
He fled for a few hours, afraid his sibling would catch on and chase him. As the night started fading to dawn, he got confident enough to pause and examine his plunder.
He wanted to test it, so he figured the simplest food was enough to begin with.
Of course, he was not entirely confident on how he could have the miracle happen, so he had to try a few times to get it right.
But in time the first loaf of fresh bread pushed out of the drawer. Then another one, followed by a baguette, a handful of bread-sticks, and a few buns. At this point, the older brother started to worry. The bread kept piling up on his boat, and some of it even fell overboard.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “I remember my brother said something to stop the grinder.
What was it again?”
The older brother couldn’t remember what he heard. The bread was starting to weigh on his boat. He knew that eventually the grinder’s production would sink him.
In a flash of panic, the image of his sibling stopping the grinder came back to him. He jumped at the handle and screamed.
“Nedirasse!”
The grinder didn’t stop. So, in desperation and frustration, he threw the object into the sea. And for a moment, he thought he had saved his life. He started rowing back toward his island, almost glad of not having the grinder anymore, and willing to appreciate the supplies he still got in the event.
After a few minutes, the older brother felt something slowing his boat. Thinking it was some sort of sandbank, he turned around the obstacle. But then he felt another one on his oar, and poking it, he noticed it was soft and spongy. Before he could investigate further, an island seemed to rise right in front of his eyes. Then his boat got raised by what he realized was a mass of soaked and mushed together bread.
You see, What he didn’t know was that the grinder has a rule for its production. If it isn’t stopped, it starts producing faster and faster. And no one knows if it ever could slow down.
The island he caused was growing more and more, pushing to the surface small sea creatures that were flopping helplessly on the new ground.
The older brother, lost on his boat among a landscape of bread pulp and ooze-like crust, tried to row on the thick matter. But soon his oars got stuck and sank slowly. His best efforts couldn’t pull them out.
A new desperation came to him, and, in a foolish last resort, he jumped out of his boat and into the bread sea.
But you can’t swim in the bread sea. Each of your movement is heavy in that matter, and the weight pulls you under.
One second was enough to deter him back to his boat, but it was too late, and he fruitlessly exhausted his strength trying to reach it.
As he felt himself sinking, he held his breath, hoping to rise again soon. Of course, he lost that breath without going up, and gasped, which filled his body with the deadly pulp.
The story of the bread sea doesn’t end with his death. The grinder, lost somewhere deep under the sea, continued producing bread, without anyone to tell it that was enough. The bread sea spread, surrounding and engulfing all islands of the archipelago, and before the following night, had caused the death of the younger brother and the forest he saved.
Many tried to stop the spreading of bread. All failed. No matter how mighty one could be, the breadsea and breadlands carried on their deadly growth. A few weeks were enough to cross seas, to eat islands and continents. The moist pulp of the sea gave way to the layer of dried crust on land, and both were death for plants, beast and men.
And it went growing that way until one day, after having seemingly covered the world, the breadlands weren’t moving any longer.
And that is why the world is now covered in moldy stale bread, neither humans nor animals can’t walk on the ground, and the seas are no more.
Life, as it is known to, had endured through. Some animals of the old times managed to find their place, while over the years new races rose that thrived.
The last of mankind had to learn the ways of the breadworld to survive, but they pledged humanity would never forget what had been lost.