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SHRIEK
Author:
Taffeh A. Llama PM
Crimson quickly splattered against the wall like paint as the little girl's ear-splitting shriek filled the air, a hopeful whisper of vivacity slowly undulating toward her captor...
Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Mystery - Words: 723 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 2 - Published: 02-11-12 - Status: Complete - id: 2996450
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[SHRIEK]

Crimson quickly splattered against the wall like paint as the little girl's ear-splitting shriek filled the air, a hopeful whisper of vivacity slowly undulating toward her captor. The man impassively plucked a vase and swiftly flung the projectile at the girl. Her eyes widened as she yelped and ducked right before the priceless vase flew across the room, striking a spot in the wall and shattering upon impact only a few mere inches from where her head had been a few moments before.

Shards of grass rained down, scratching and scarring her skin and scarlet drops stained her clothing.

Taking the event as a distraction, the girl arose and scrambled to the stairs. Her numb feet slapped hard against the tile. She breathed out in relief as a door appeared in the distance. She was almost there; her hand went out to touch the brass door knob and her adrenaline slowly faded as her assumption of being out of harm's way grew.

Her hand grasped the object and the cooling touch gave her a drip of solace.

The corners of her mouth curved up into a smile, but it instantly disappeared. Her body froze in despair as she felt an icy cold hand clamp onto her ankle.

A poisonous mixture of hopelessness and agony slowly slithered inside and contaminated her body.

She suddenly stopped breathing, and started to desperately think, hope, that this whole entire event was just an unholy nightmare that she wouldn't seem to get out of.

The man smirked deviously as he thrust downward.

A shriek escaped the girl's mouth, and she slammed into the floorings, knocking her breath out for a few seconds as her heart tried and tried again to beat faster and faster to supply all the oxygen that she truly needed.

She screamed as her hands clawed coarsely at the floorboards, hoping somebody, anybody, could come and save her from this treacherous monster.

The man's smirk wavered, but grew stronger the minute he yanked his hand harder, making the girl tumble down the timber stairs, past him, and toward the ground with a loud thump being heard every few seconds.

Black spots sardonically danced around her eyes and she could barely stay conscious, the world tilting every so which way. Her head felt sluggish, heavy even, and it harshly pounded against the floor.

She groaned and placed her hand onto her forehead trying to somehow block the pain, but her body froze once more when she felt a strange substance on her fingers.

Shaking and trembling, she slowly moved her hand away from her forehead and toward her face; her eyes watched with fright as crimson gracefully glided down her fingers down onto her arm like a slow moving river.

The girl's bloodied head limply turned around, recognizing a man behind her with a knife sharply shining.

She understood that she would no longer live.

She understood that she would never see tomorrow.

She understood that she would breathe her last breath here.

"Please," she whispered.

Tears freely fell down her cheeks and she shuddered.

"Don't…" She could speak no more.

Alas, the man's grin warped as he plunged the knife into the girl's body, twisting and pushing the entire way, as her last shriek echoed around the room. Deeper and deeper he plunged, until the metallic clang of the blade hitting bone happily vibrated throughout his arm.

Soon enough, his hands were soaking wet from the thick, red substance. And a euphoric sensation spilled into the man, making him grin

He gradually rose up from his tinted red knees and quietly left the scene, shutting the wooden door behind him and leaving the child drained of color, clod, and most importantly, dead.


I gasped and clutched my chest as my heart boomed, threatening to collapse at any moment. My bed sheets lay on the floor as a crumpled and cluttered mess, a probable result of my legs involuntarily kicking around during my nightmare. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths as I forced my heart to beat slower; I opened my eyes and blankly stared at the wall.

"He's coming," I murmured. "He's coming for me next, and this time, he won't stop."

My alarm clock continued to beep monotonously.

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