• the_novel_idealist

1 November 2019 - 15 Minute Fiction Friday

Cordelia sat, clutching her knees to her chest, struggling for breath beneath the cellar stairs and straining her eyes so firmly shut that her intensifying headache was almost drowning out the sound of her heartbeat’s crescendo.

The stairs creaked.

That thing, whatever it was, walking on two arms, with that deadened face and fixed grin; it was coming for her.

She clutched the knife, glancing up to the floor above, holding back the urge to scream and vomit as she saw the faint flicks of his blood oozing through the floorboards.

Creak... and a high-pitched laugh, cruel, otherworldly.

She turned.