Aug. 5, 2026

Let-Down: Body Horror Through a Child's Perspective

Let-Down: Body Horror Through a Child's Perspective

Key Takeaways

  • Weekly Spooky delivers a chilling horror story written by Morgan Moore titled "Let-Down," exploring terrifying body horror through a child's innocent and misinformed perspective.
  • The narrative follows a six-year-old mute girl who tries to care for her hungry infant brother when poverty, neglect, and her father's gambling addiction leave the family without food or formula.
  • With a child's incomplete understanding of biology, she mistakenly believes she can harvest milk from her parents using kitchen scissors, leading to gruesome and horrifying results.
  • The story masterfully blends psychological dread, domestic collapse, and graphic body horror into a shocking and unforgettable nightmare for horror fiction fans.
  • Listeners can support Weekly Spooky and unlock exclusive bonus content by visiting WeeklySpooky.com/Join.

Body horror stories rarely get more disturbing than “LET DOWN” by Morgan Moore, a narrated horror story told through the innocent perspective of a six-year-old girl who cannot speak and is trying to care for her hungry baby brother.

Her family is collapsing under sickness, poverty, neglect, and her father’s gambling addiction. When the food and baby formula run out, she remembers one simple fact: mothers make milk. Armed with a child’s incomplete understanding and a pair of kitchen scissors, she tries to solve the problem herself.
This gruesome horror short story blends psychological horror, graphic body horror, domestic dread, and childlike innocence into a shocking nightmare. Start your spooky season early with one of Weekly Spooky’s most disturbing horror stories—made for listeners who seek scary stories, creepy stories, narrated horror stories, and unsettling horror narration.

Weekly Spooky is a horror fiction anthology and spooky podcast bringing you weekly horror stories, terrifying fiction, and Halloween horror all year long.

🎧 LISTEN NOW and subscribe for spine-tingling horror stories every week!

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📬 Contact Us / Submit Your Horror Story!


🎵 Music by Ray Mattis 👉 Check out Ray’s incredible work here !
👨‍💼 Executive Producers: Rob Fields, Bobbletopia.com
🎥 Produced by: Daniel Wilder
🌐 Explore more terrifying tales at: WeeklySpooky.com

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the podcast episode "Let-Down" about?

Written by Morgan Moore, this episode of Weekly Spooky is a narrated horror story told from the perspective of a mute six-year-old girl who misunderstands how to feed her starving baby brother.

Who wrote the horror story featured in this episode?

The harrowing horror story "Let-Down" was written by author Morgan Moore.

Where can I support Weekly Spooky and find bonus episodes?

You can unlock exclusive bonus episodes and support the show by visiting WeeklySpooky.com/Join.

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Let down by Morgan Moore. They say silence is golden.

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If that were true, I'd be the richest girl in

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the world. I'm mute, you see, and I'm anything but rich.

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My family got by, but only by the seat of

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my parents' pants. We lived, how do they say it,

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paycheck to paycheck? Well, we did until Mama got hurt

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at work. She worked at a factory, and after that

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Daddy still worked, but Mama got paid to stay home

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and there seemed to be a lot more money. I guess.

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They said things were still tight, but every once in

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a while we got name brand stuff like Lucky Charms

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and eight McDonald's, or even went to Chuck E Cheese.

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It was really nice, but it didn't last. I love

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my daddy a lot, and I especially love playing games

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with him. My favorites were candy Land and a game

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with magic toys where one of them came alive when

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I wasn't looking and got lost, so I had to

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find it. Daddy loved playing with me and liked games

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of all kinds. Mama even said so, though she always

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sounded angry when she did. I didn't understand it, but hey,

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I'm only six and I don't know everything. I did

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notice that the more Daddy played, the less often we

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got McDonald's or Lucky Charms or went to Chuck E Cheese.

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I didn't understand why, but Mama always talked about him

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wasting or losing money and said she was mad, especially

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because he was using the money from her axcident. They'd

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usually start yelling about it. Daddy would say the money

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was for the family, and Mama would say he was

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spending it on games for himself. They'd yell some more

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slam things, and then it would be quiet. One time

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Mama even used a bad word and said he was

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fucking over the baby. I might not be able to talk,

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but I knew about bad words. Oh, Mama was going

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to have a baby soon, I forgot to say so.

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After a while, Daddy seemed to stop wanting to play

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with me and only wanted to play by himself. Maybe

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it was because I was just a kid and wasn't

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old enough for whatever games he played. I never understood

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why he had to play them away from home. Though

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Mama had the baby and he was beautiful. After she

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had him, Daddy and I didn't really play together anymore,

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but that was okay, he was going to help Mama

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with the baby. Daddy still played by himself, but now

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he did it on the computer, something to do with cards.

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That was when Mama got really mad and the yelling

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turned into screaming. She would tell him and even me

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that Daddy wasn't helping and was being selfish and a

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bad parent. Sometimes it got so bad that I would

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hide with the baby in my closet since we shared

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a room. Soon, Mama got really sick and Daddy was

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home all the time. He said he didn't have to

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work anymore. I figured that meant he'd help Mama, but

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we only saw him sitting at the computer in room.

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Mama did what she could for me and the baby,

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but she was sick and needed to rest so she

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could get better. Plus it was cold by then, so

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she couldn't go outside without getting even sicker, and Daddy

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wasn't going out either. We started running out of things

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and the house got messy. One night, the baby woke

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up screaming. I checked on him, and from what Mama

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had taught me, I knew he was hungry. I carried

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him to the kitchen to make a bottle, but there

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wasn't any formula or milk. He didn't have teeth yet,

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so he couldn't eat anything else. There really wasn't much

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I could eat, either, but I remembered that mommies could

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make milk, so quietly I carried him into mama's room.

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From what I could remember, the milk came from a

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mommy's what were they called breasts? That was it. Milk

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came from breasts. I lifted mama's shirt, but what to

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do next was kind of hard to remember. I set

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the baby down and started to think it had something

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to do with the pink parts. Maybe it was like

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a cow and you had to milk them. I put

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two fingers on either side of one pink part and

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gave it a gentle pinch. Nothing came out. I pinched

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a little harder and pulled too. A tiny droplet of

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liquid came out. Success. The only problem was that making

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enough to satisfy the baby was going to take forever.

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I had to think of a way to get him more.

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An idea opped into my head, and I quickly and

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quietly made my way back to the kitchen. I got

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a pair of scissors I'd seen Mama and Daddy use

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to cut meat. I carefully walked back to the bedroom

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because you're not supposed to run with scissors, and went

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right up to Mama. I opened the scissors, and just

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as I had with my fingers, I placed the pink

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part of Mama's breast between the blades. I thought maybe

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I needed to do a little more, after all, hers

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were much bigger than mine. I opened the scissors wider

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and placed the blades around the whole pink circle on

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Mama's breast. I slipped my fingers into the handles, counted

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down from five in my head, and squeezed them closed.

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When I opened them again, the pink sole dropped onto

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the bed and liquid started coming out, the way water

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does when you turn on a sink. Mama screamed louder

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than I'd ever heard anybody scream. Her eyes opened wide

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like an owl's, and she fell out of bed and

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squirmed on the floor. I picked up the baby and

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laid him on Mama, right where the liquid was coming from.

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He put his mouth to it and started to eat,

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while Mama just kept screaming and crying. It was kinda

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weird that he didn't seem to mind. I also thought

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it was odd that the liquid wasn't white. I mean,

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it was dark, so I couldn't tell for sure, but

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it didn't look white. Maybe that was just how mammy's

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milk looked. I looked down at my hand and saw

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some of it there from when i'd used the scissors.

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I didn't remember what milk from a mom tasted like.

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Curious and hungry, I licked it off my hand. The

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taste was weird. It didn't taste like milk at all.

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It tasted the way pennies smelled. I guess that might

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be because it came from a mommy instead of a cow.

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I'd had almond milk before, and that tasted different. There

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were other kinds of milk you could buy, too. I

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was so hungry that it didn't really matter whether it

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tasted weird. I went to mama's other breast, used the

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scissors on the other circle, and started to eat like

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a baby. She kept screaming, but she got quieter and quieter.

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Then she was asleep again, though it smelled like she'd

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gone to the bathroom or past gas. The baby and

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I kept eating until the liquid stopped coming out. Even

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after all that milk, the baby was still fussy. Another

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idea popped into my head. I'd taken baths with both

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Mama and Daddy. I remembered that Daddy had those circles

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on his chest too. I'd never heard of or seen

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a daddy feeding a baby, but why else would daddies

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have them. I went to pick up the baby, but

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saw the circles that had come off Mama. I got

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curious again, and before I could think much about it,

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I picked one up and popped it into my mouth.

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It was chewy, really chewy, almost like taffy. I liked taffy,

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so I popped the other one into my mouth and

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chewed and chewed before swallowing them both. I made my

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way to Daddy's room and opened the door, Just as

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he had been for the last couple of weeks. Daddy

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was sitting at the computer with his eyes stuck to

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whatever game he was playing. He didn't seem to notice

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me and the baby, even when I stood right beside him.

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I put the baby down and tapped Daddy's leg with

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the scissors. That got his attention. Daddy looked at us, and,

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for whatever reason, seemed scared, really scared. I climbed onto

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his lap and lifted his shirt as much as I could.

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His breasts were definitely smaller than mama's, which made the

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scissors easier to use. He screamed and fell out of

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the chair, and I fell with him. Daddy squirmed on

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the floor, and with the lights on, I could see

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that the milk was red. I didn't know why, but

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maybe that was just because it didn't come from a cow,

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or maybe boy's milk was red. The baby crawled up

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to him and started to eat, and I joined in

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until my belly felt nice and full. Of course, I

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ate the circles too, Like I said, I liked taffy,

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and that's what they reminded me of. When we were

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all done, I took the baby back to our room.

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Before I knew it, he was asleep, and then I

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was too. We woke to loud banging at the front door. Sleepily,

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I picked up the baby and carried him there. Mama

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and Daddy had told me not to open the door

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for strangers, but I recognized the voice of our neighbor,

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missus Perkins, so I opened it. Two police officers stood

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behind her. They looked shocked when they saw me and

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the baby with the milk all over us, all three

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came into the house, and one of the officers headed

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toward the bedrooms. Missus Perkins explained that she'd been hearing

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screaming and was worried because it sounded bad, so she

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called the police. The officer who had walked away shouted

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for the other one to come see something. The other

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officer and Missus Perkins left us and went to him.

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Then she let out a scream. She and both the

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officers came running back. Missus Perkins gently put her hands

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on my shoulders and squeezed them before asking what had

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happened and why the baby and I had blood on us.

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I don't talk like other people, but I do know

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sign language. I told her it wasn't blood, it was

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milk that was read For some reason. As I explained

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what I'd done, her face turned really, really white. I

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didn't think either officer knew sign language, because one of

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them asked what I was saying. Missus Perkins only knew

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a little from babysitting me before, but it was enough.

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She turned to face the police. She says the baby

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was hungry and she was too, so they ate mommy

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and Daddy's milk. The officers and Missus Perkins looked at

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me and the baby. I smiled. I could tell I

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had a big milk mustache because my mouth felt so crusty.

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All their faces went even wider as they stared at me,

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and I kept smiling. I asked them another question in

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sign language. One of the officers asked missus Perkins what

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I'd said. She gulped. I did well and am a

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good sister, right,