Strong as Oak (horror)

It was just a chair, creaky and old but with a distinguishable air of dignity. It had been around grandmother's cottage since the home belonged to grandmother's grandmother. It remembered the young grasp of the exuberant little girl of years past, but appreciated the old, softened touch of the grandmother's wrinkled hands. But when grandmother died her gentle touch was replaced by the gruff force of commissioned fingers. They grabbed and pulled and crashed him down onto the floor with professional efficiency. They wielded a hatchet high above their heads and ripped him apart, limb by limb. The pain was unbearable. The fire was close. It consumed him and just like that a lifetime of memories were disintegrated in the flames' morbid delight.