Scary Story About Monkey’s Paw

It was a dark and stormy night. The White family were sitting in their cozy home next to a roaring fire. Mrs White was doing some embroidery while Mr White and his son, Herbert, were playing chess good-naturedly. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Then another.

"Hold your horses," called Mr White. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" He opened the door and let in his old friend, Mr Morris. They hadn't seen each other for ages since the Sergeant spent a lot of time abroad. They sat with whiskies while he told them of his adventures in India. Mr White noticed his friend looked haunted.

"Morris, has something happened?" he asked. The Sergeant-Major nodded and pulled out a small grey object. He showed it to them, but held on tight and didn't let anyone touch it. "It's a monkey's paw. I got it from a fakir, a holy man, in India." He held out the small mummified hand and they all looked at it in curiosity.

"He said he wanted to teach others that fate rules people and you can't mess with it. He told me three men would get three wishes from the paw, and they would learn how masterful fate really was."

Mr White looked at his friend quizzically. "How did you end up with it, then, Morris?" The haunted look came back into the Sergeant's eyes. "At first, I gave it to another man. He used his last wish to die. Then I... I took my three wishes. Now... now I don't know what to do with it! I've thought of selling it, but I don't want anyone else to be cursed."

"Pa," said Herbert in excitement. "Why don't you take it? Just think! Three wishes, anything you want!"

Mr White smiled, shaking…