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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1971691
They will get you, if you don't get you first.
Beads of sweat rolled down her pale skin, but she scarce noticed unless they dripped into her wide, bloodshot eyes. She traced the bright blue veins on her arms with trembling fingers. Should she end it now, before the Shadows got her? How easy would it be for her to slice at her flesh and let herself bleed out? Too easy, she decided. Far too easy. But what if they did it first? She let out a pathetic whimper and glanced out the window. The sun was still out, there was still time, if she moved quickly enough.

Carefully, she moved to the edge of the bed, breathing heavily. She dropped her bait, an old, tattered sneaker, on the floor before her. Nothing happened. Still, she did not get off the bed yet. Telling herself to be brave, she perched herself on the edge of the bed, making sure her feet weren't hanging off of the other side. She looked under the bed. Nothing. Now she eased herself off the bed, grabbing the sneaker as she did so. The sneaker was important. It would keep her alive until she died.

She clutched the sneaker tightly, terrified to venture out into the hallway, where there were no windows. The Shadows liked it there. They liked her there, cause they could get her there. She hated it there. Hated the Shadows. But she would show them.

Quietly, she opened the door, so as to not alert the Shadows. She scanned the hallways for them through the most miniscule crack in her door. She opened it wide enough to throw the shoe through, and promptly screamed as it was devoured by the Shadows. She slammed the door shut and braced herself against it.

"They're trying to get in! THEY'RE TRYING TO GET IN!" she wailed at the top of her lungs.

The Shadows pounded at the door, tried to get in, but she wouldn't let them, not ever. She looked down at her bare feet. Her safeguard was gone. Her eyes wandered further and she screamed again when she realized the Shadows were getting in through the crack under the door. She launched herself at the bed and buried herself under the covers. Heavy sobs racked her body as the sun set.

"They're going to get me..." she cried. "Going to get me, going to get me."

She hid under the blankets all night, even when the Shadows tugged at them. They would not get her, she couldn't let them. One night she would be able to sleep again, once the Shadows were conquered. Tonight was not that night.

She could feel them prodding, pulling, grabbing, hungering. Where she could not see her hand two inches in front of her face, they saw her whole, delicious body under the blanket. Where she tripped because she could not see, they maneuvered as playing in the most delightful playground. Where she ran in terror, they gave chase in delight.

Not that there was any use in running, she had learned. The Shadows had wrapped their willowy tendrils around her once before, and only barely had she escaped. Never would she make that mistake again. She would just have to sneak around the Shadows, a daunting task to be sure, as the Shadows were everywhere, and now they had taken her sneaker.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the sun rose once again, and the Shadows, though temporarily, receded. It was only when the sun was shining brightly on her though, did she dare peek out from under her blankets. The Shadows had indeed retreated. But they had taken the sneaker. How was she supposed to get through the hallway now?

Suddenly she screamed and fell out of the bed, having felt something brush against her arm ever so slightly. She had only barely registered that it was only her hair when she screamed again for not having tested the floor first

"Going to get me! GOING TO GET ME!" she cried in a strangled voice as she scurried away from the bed towards the window.

There, she curled into the fetal position, whimpering, waiting. But the Shadows did not come. Still, her body was taut. They would come. She had broken her silence, surely they would come, they had heard her, they would come.

She looked to the window again. The window. A brilliant revelation dawned on her, as relieving as the morning sun. The window, escape, no Shadows. But of course, no plan was perfect. The instant her fist smashed through the glass, her door flew upon.

She picked up a large shard of glass from the floor, ready to defend herself against the army of Shadows that was hurling itself through her door. She didn't wait for them to get close before she started slashing at them.

"STAY AWAY! STAY AWAY!"

Her defending arm was caught, but she would not let herself be so easily defeated, not now. She pulled against the Shadows, against the pain, against the fear, but they gripped ever tighter. She thrashed about wildly. They wouldn't catch her. The window was right there.

Her pale skin was now slick with blood. She thrashed all the same, as wildly as possible. Either way, she would win. No matter that the Shadows grew more numerous. No matter that they grew stronger. No matter that she grew weaker. No matter that they clawed at the edges of her vision now. No matter, no matter at all. She would win.

And then her head exploded with a fierce pain, blinding and immobilizing her. And then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. Everything stopped. The Shadows stopped. She stopped. If she could've smiled she would have. Beads of blood ran down her pale skin, but she scarce noticed, not even when they dripped into her blank eyes. She had won.

© Copyright 2014 C.A. Rollison (espiri at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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