Cup time

The cups, once admired for their shining beauty, now had a sinister aura around them. Something was not right with them, and although no one wanted to acknowledge it, the eerie feeling made peoples' hair stand on end.

It all started when Ellen bought the cups at a yard sale. She had fallen in love with their delicate floral patterns and their unique shapes. She thought they would perfectly accent her antique china cabinet, and as soon as she got home, she arranged them neatly on one of the shelves.

That first evening, Ellen hosted a dinner party for her friends. They marveled at her collection of antique plates and cups, but when Ellen poured the coffee into the cups, they noticed something strange. The coffee started to bubble and boil, and the cups became hot to the touch. It was like the cups were alive, and they were angry.

Her guests didn't want to drink from the cups anymore, and as soon as they left, Ellen washed them and placed them back in the cabinet. Later that night, she heard a strange noise coming from the cabinet. It sounded like scratching and whispering - something that couldn't be explained.

The next morning, Ellen rose with a scratchy throat and a fever. She suspected it was nothing serious, but her friends who visited her dinner party were feeling the same symptoms, and they all had a strange sensation of fear.

Days went by, and the cups became increasingly more eerie. They seemed to radiate a kind of malevolence that Ellen couldn't explain, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they were cursed in some way. Even when she wasn't looking at them, she could feel their eyes following her around the room, and she was convinced they had some sinister intent in mind.

One night, Ellen dreamed of the cups swirling around her, their floral patterns changing into twisted, wicked designs. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. It was like the cups were suffocating her, wanting to claim her as their own.

The next morning, Ellen woke up in a panic. Her skin was cold, and the cups were missing from the cabinet. She searched everywhere, but they were nowhere to be found. The only thing she found was the scraps of the antique lace tablecloth. It was like the cups had shredded it to pieces.

From then on, Ellen thought it was wise to steer clear of antique stores and yard sales, and she never forgot the awful horror that the cups had brought into her life. They were gone, but the memory of them lingered on in her dreams. It was a horror story about cups she will never forget.