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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2155241
by Jacky
Rated: E · Fiction · Contest Entry · #2155241
Flash Fiction
Caught

“I’m gonna get you!” came the singsong voice. I had the urge to laugh, it reminded me of playing with a baby. ‘Fat chance old man,’ I thought, then shook myself, ‘Get a grip!’ The guy didn’t know exactly where I was, if I was careful, and quiet, I could get out of here and be home free.

Being his house though, he knew his way around, I didn’t. I wracked my brain trying to piece together the rooms I’d already been in. I knew how it was set up, but only from the outside. When I cased it, I thought it was empty. The old geezer scared the crap out of me. I wasn’t even being quiet, I thought the house was empty!

I was in a room at the end of the huge front hallway when he found me. I’d run out a door at the back, so I must still be on the north side near the back of the house. Was there a door there? I couldn’t remember. There were rooms after rooms, all knitted together in that old house kind of way. The windows in this one were high, though I might jump anyway, this guy was really creeping me out. This room seemed to be a bedroom, and from the smell of it, being used. Maybe his bedroom? I could hear him coming, he was getting closer.

I ran to the door on the other side of the room, praying it wasn’t a closet. It wasn’t. I stood in horror looking at bodies left where they had died, some just bones now. Over in a corner I heard a tiny voice. “Can you help me?”

As I heard the door I’d come through lock shut, I suddenly didn’t know the answer to that question.
© Copyright 2018 Jacky (cliffjack at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2155241