𝒯he 𝒞ursed 𝒫💀rtrait (short story)

↬Part 2

They flung open the gate when Sam saw something behind Blitzo suddenly. He was shocked. His mouth was left open. It was something familiar. It was a woman with blood scars and long greasy hair in a half-transparent white dress, staring blankly at Blitzo behind the window.

Blitzo turned to his back. He saw her. The woman's eyes narrowed and squinted, gleaming under the moonlight. Blitzo gasped. It was her! It was her! She had come to take revenge after we escaped! That was the woman in the portrait!

"Help! There's a..." they screamed in unison, panicking frantically. They ducked behind the benches in the garden. His mind was racing.

"Shh..." she hissed with a wicked laugh, "this is what will cost you for coming into the cursed cottage."

They covered their mouths ghastly as she raised her bladed dagger and floated towards them.

♦♦♦

"Your turn to be trapped in the portrait."

 She laughed menacingly, and swiftly stabbed the two brothers in their chests before they could yell for help. They both collapsed onto the ground immediately. Blood gushed out and splattered all over like a waterfall, leaving the knife full of oozy red liquid in the garden of the cottage. The stench of blood filled the air.

"This is a curse," she whispered, "whoever comes must die. The soul looses its freedom. It is trapped in the portrait forever, until another soul comes and replaces it."

Meanwhile, the portrait freed her soul and transformed into a picture of the two brothers. They shouted at the top of their lungs, trying to reach their hands out of the portrait and attempting to escape until there wasn't any more hope. 

After a while, they surrendered. Their eyes blinked in the portrait, full of sorrow, hatred and pity. There it lay quietly, in anticipation of the next victim to go into the cottage.

♦♦♦

Yet, nobody else had seen the brothers again.