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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1048667-In-the-Dark
Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1048667
Just something I wrote one day. Nothing fancy
Liz looked around, trying desperately to
identify her surroundings in the blanket of darkness that encircled her. The almost blind blackness embraced her body, sending chills up her already rigid spine. Still, the inky black darkness was comforting in one single way as she clung to her last hope. If she couldn’t see whatever was out there, maybe it couldn’t see her either. Liz cautiously stepped forward stretching her arms ahead, attempting to find something to guide her out of the blackness. She felt and felt in every direction but still found nothing. She heard something move almost directly behind her. The young girl froze in her tracks. Her heart pounding fiercely in her chest, she stood there silently waiting for another movement, but nothing happened. The seconds stretched into minutes. It felt as though she had been standing there for hours when she felt it, the hot breath on her cold, clammy neck. Her heart that had flopped and pounded so savagely only minutes before seemed to drop into her stomach and skip a few beats.


All at once she decided to act upon the powerful urge that had been becoming stronger in the past few moments–run. Liz ran with all of her energy, determined to put as much distance as possible between her and whatever else was in this ghostly place with her. Her feet seemed to know exactly where they were going; left, right, right, then straight. Her feet pounded on and on into the darkness and her sides felt like they were on fire, and on the verge of exploding. And Liz was sure her legs were going to give out and collapse any second. Just at the very moment she felt she couldn’t go on anymore she collided with something sturdy and very hard. The frightened girl staggered backwards, the quickly stepped forward, her hands examining every inch of the wall Finally she found what she was looking for. The metal doorknob felt cool and slick under her sweaty hand. Her whole body began trembling horribly as she turned the doorknob slowly. She heard the faint click as the door swished open. Liz timidly stepped into the room. There was a small window in the left side of the room, barely illuminating the room with the light of the few stars outside.


The sound of distant footsteps echoed through the hall, growing louder each second. Liz’s panic rose again and she quickly slammed the door closed. She fiddled around with the knob, quickly finding the lock she turned it. Leaning her back against the now locked door she listened intensely, waiting for what was sure to come. Her breath was coming in short, hard gasps. The footsteps thumped forward, steadily gaining on its destination. The sound seeped through the door once again reaching Liz’s expecting ears. She quickly got away from the pathetic barrier separating her from the person out there that was so intent upon finding her. The footsteps had sounded so close to the door. Then all at once they ceased. The doorknob slowly turned, but suddenly stopped, halted by the lock. Again and again the kob turned, and each time it was stopped abruptly. Then the tries stopped altogether.


Liz cautiously stepped forth. Pressing her right ear against the door she strained to hear any sounds beyond it. She stood there for what seemed to be hours. Then after what was likely to be about 10 minutes she heard footsteps growing more and more distant. Half relieved Liz backed away from the door, taking several deep breaths. She continued backing up until she ran into something she couldn’t see. The girl jumped half a foot and quickly turned around, only to find a wall staring back to her.


Right at that moment there was a heavy thud at the door. At first Liz’s mind didn’t click. Then she realized that whatever was out there was trying to break down the door. Thud after thud came; six in all. Just when Liz thought they were done she heard a much louder thud than the rest. She looked up at the door to see the tip of an axe gleaming in the star light. Liz’s hands flew to her mouth to stifle a scream. She realized at once that she had no way at all of defending herself against an axe. She stumbled around almost maniacally trying to find something to shield herself with. She traveled around the room in frenzied circles but still found nothing. It was as if the room was completely empty. Liz, realizing this was probably the end for her, sank to her knees and began to sob. The axe wiggled out of its slot and again sank its sharp metal fang into the wood door. Covering her face in her hands the crying became heavier. Again the axe came for the third time. Suddenly she realized that it would do no good to just sit there and cry. Slowly she stood on her legs of jelly. Liz decided that she would give whatever was out there a fight.


The axe crashed once more into the door. With the scarce starlight Liz could barely see that all of the slashes had formed a very badly shaped square. The corners were still a few inches apart. Predictably there was a loud sound of an object colliding with another object. Liz’s eyes feasted upon the bloody fist and jacketed arm that had just penetrated through the door. The barrier lay broken and splintered on the floor. It was now useless. She stood motionless as the person slashed repeatedly at the hole. Liz gaped as it grew larger, seeming to just dissolve at the sight of the axe. Nothing, there was nothing to defend herself with. The walls appeared to press themselves around her, forcing her closer to her fatal danger. The room seemed to get smaller by the second, soon forcing her only a few feet away from the door. Liz kneeled, numbly feeling on the floor for on of the broken fragments. For a few seconds she found nothing. But finally her fingers connected with a rather sharp piece of the rough wood. In her search to find her weapon Liz had not noticed the thrashing had stopped. Distant breathing came from what was sure to be the now human sized hole. Liz swung the door fragment in front of her but it didn’t collide with anything. She heard a footstep, light and calm. Another; the breathing was definitely closer. The person was close enough to become a black lumpy figure in Liz’s vision. She quickly backed away, having no desire whatever to get this close to it. In mid-step her heel caught on something that she couldn’t see.


It happened in a split second, almost as soon as Liz had landed on the floor the figure was on top of her. It pinned down her legs with its, holding her wrists together with its strong viselike grip. Its face was so close, yet Liz still could not see it. She felt the tip of what she was sure to be the axe on her forehead. Its cold metal point slowly traveled between her eyes, down the side of her nose, and onto her cheek. Liz whimpered as it settled across her throat. She could’ve sworn she heard a muffled sound coming from the mysterious face, sounding almost like a chuckle. Liz struggled pointlessly to free herself from this apparently insane persons grip. Her attempt was fruitless. ‘This is it’ she thought. Im going to die, my murderer unknown. The being on top of her gently stroked her hair and caressed her cheek in an almost loving way. Liz fought harder, desperately to pull her arms away. Nothing, again. The person laughed again, pulling their hand away. Liz felt the axe tip leave her neck. Her moment fo relief quickly vanished as she realized what was going to happen. Liz heard the swooshing of the axe cutting through air. She tried fiercely to roll away from the axe’s designated target–and rolled right out of bed.


Liz gasped for air. Her palms were sweating fiercely, her face hot from fright. She tried to stand, but the fear that whatever had been chasing her bound her to the floor that she had fallen on. She sensed it was still near, breathing in a dark corner. Her eyes darted madly around her room as she frantically examined every inch of it. Liz listened without a sound, holding her breath. But all she could hear was the wind blowing softly outside. It was only a dream.
© Copyright 2005 Rebecca (becca_boo_yea at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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