Disclaimer:
*This is a short novel and it contains graphic depictions of violence, gore, and cannibalism, exploring themes of psychological horror which may be disturbing to some readers. Reader discretion is strongly advised. If you are sensitive to such content, please consider this warning before proceeding.*
:D...
-O-o-O-o-O-O-o-O-o-O-O-o-O-o-O-O-o-O-o-O-O-O-o-O-o-O-O-o-O-
"Running doesn't matter.
They will hunt you if they have to."
-Anne
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-
Catherine woke up, realizing her little cousin Taylor was not with her on the bed.
She couldn't recall when the rain started. Exhausted from work, she collapsed onto the bed, while Taylor slept peacefully.
She sensed the cold, rose to her feet, and briskly shut the windows.
"Is it just me, or is it getting late? Fifteen minutes... that girl."
She hopped onto the bed to sleep again.
[CRACK. .]
A cold breeze, a calm breath.
[ Mmph. . mmph..]
''That-''
[ CRACK]
It was loud and disturbing this time, but Catherine tried to push thoughts of Taylor downstairs and the idea of someone being in their home out of her mind. She stood up, rushing outside the room and downstairs towards the bathroom.
She quickly pressed the wall button to dim the lights and dispel the panic, but they remained off.
''What the hell?''
She was in front of the bathroom door.
Then she let out a long breath.
''Taylor, is it okay?''
No reply.
"Need help? Are you okay?''
"What happened?''
Every second passed, and her tension increased.
"Taylor, speak-''
[CRACK]
The sound nearly pierced her ears, and her heartbeat skyrocketed.
Shivering, she suddenly sensed a presence looming behind her. Summoning every ounce of courage, she slowly turned around to confront whatever it was.
A woman, maybe around 40 years old, was sitting on the floor beside the couch, her back facing Catherine. She was eating something that Catherine was not sure of.
[CRACK] [Bone-Cracking]
Again.
Again, the same unpleasant sound.
Catherine stood, frozen. She tried, but her feet didn't move.
Her shivering hands covered her mouth, too scared to utter a word or scream. She took a step back.
[Cracked]
She felt something crack beneath her foot. Suddenly, she sensed the woman's gaze fix on her. With fearful eyes, she glanced at that woman.
The woman's white clothes were stained in blood, Taylor's hand in her mouth.
"No..."
She couldn't deny it. It was her cousin's hand, with a pink butterfly ring still on her last finger.
Her face turned pale, and her vision blurred.
''No...n...No!''
At first, her vision was blurry, but it quickly cleared, revealing the ceiling. She was sweating heavily and felt exhausted from the ongoing nightmares. She had the same nightmares every week, but what troubled her most was that she wasn't particularly close to her cousin, Taylor, who had gone missing on her birthday. There had been no sign of her since then. However, just a few months after Taylor's disappearance, she began having these horrifying dreams.
''It sucks."
After taking a few sips of water, she stood up, grabbed her cigarette pack, and lit one while sitting back on the bed. She brought it to her lips and exhaled a smoke ring. The only light illuminating the room came from a small table lamp beside her bed. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror in front of her bed; her ginger wavy hair was loosely braided, and her nightwear fit against her pale white skin.
You are a mess right now, she thought. She stretched out her hand and took the phone from under her pillow. Her fingers moved as she dialed a number, and it was answered.
The receiver's voice exuded a strong, masculine tone, much like that of a confident 30-year-old man.
"Hey, Cathy—"
"Catherine," she snapped, cutting him off. Edd was the last person she wanted to talk to right now.
"Yeah, what's up? It's 1:00 AM, you know..." His voice was thick with sleep, and she could almost picture him rubbing his eyes.
"I have clocks," she shot back, exhaling a puff of irritation that curled into the dim light of her room.
"So, what's going on?" he asked, still half-asleep.
"How old is the girl you mentioned?" she asked, trying to get straight to the point.
She sprawled on the bed, swirling smoke rings from her mouth as her phone cast a soft glow in the dark room.
"She's 12," he replied, his tone suddenly serious.
"This is the last time I'm doing this," she said firmly, feeling a mix of annoyance and resolve.
"Of course, thank you." Catherine had planned to quit her job in a week, but Edd's earlier request had tempted her.
It was no surprise that no one ever said yes. After all, he had a knack for offering outrageous ideas, often pitching downright bizarre concepts.
She remembered the skeptical looks her coworkers exchanged whenever Edd pitched one of his outrageous plans. Now, as she listened to him, she felt a familiar uncertainty creeping in. To distract herself from her issues, she had thrown herself into work, hoping it would help her forget.
"I wouldn't ask if I had any other choice; she just—" he continued, oblivious to how his words were starting to weigh on her.
"I promise I'll put in a good word for you at the department, I swear," he added, his voice almost pleading.
"Whatever," she thought, rolling her eyes at the ceiling, feeling the heaviness of his promise linger in the air.
"You still there?" he asked, sensing her hesitation.
"Uh, yeah,"
"Where is it?" she asked, crossing her arms defensively.
"Bullyard," He said, his tone hushed, like he was sharing some secret.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~