Life for Isabelle Green is perfect. Except for whatever it is that lurks in the dark when the lights go out.
~~~
Note: This is NOT a paranormal story. No jump-scares, no purple veiny hands and no skeletal figures. Just a lil thrill and romance~
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
I look back to find Rose already inside, noiselessly shutting the door but not locking it.
"I thought we were here for Isabelle?" I stealthily reach down to my right pocket that homes my trusty pistol.
"We are," she replies calmly, walking past me to the wardrobe. "I hope she didn't lock it with a key," she mutters to herself, running a hand over the door handle. When it clicks open, she lets out a quiet 'thank goodness' and quickly throws the door open.
While it is relatively hard to see anything at first, a small whimper draws my attention to the bottom of the wardrobe where I make out a little figure huddled into one corner.
"Isabelle!" I cry, falling to my knees, hurriedly pulling her out of the cabinet and into my chest. She hardly moves as I keep chanting her name, caressing her head and rubbing her arm.
My poor Isabelle. No wonder my girl is cleithrophobic, if this is what her horrible stepmother does to her everytime she thinks she made a mistake.
Rose shakes her head in sympathy and I have to stop myself from shooting her between her eyes for having left Isabelle to suffer at the hands of the witch for all these years only because she happens to be the one who led me to her sister in the first place.
"We need to hurry," she glances at the door.
"Shut the hell up!" I snap. "Can't you see-"
"Yes, I can. She is having another panic-attack," she replies with a twinge of sympathy in her once cold eyes, "but we need to get out of here, fast, or soon we all will."
Cursing, I rest Isabelle's head on my chest and tuck her ice-cold hands in mine. "Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe with me," I instruct, enacting the same for her to mimic. Slowly but surely, her sobs quiet down as she stops shaking. Eventually, I hear her short breaths even.
"Are you okay?"
She threads her fingers with mine in affirmation. Reluctantly, I detach myself from our embrace and with a gentle hand, raise her chain to draw her attention.
"I need you to listen to me carefully, sweetheart," I say firmly. "Can you?"
Isabelle looks up at me, as if in a daze, and nods.
"We have to move. Now," I emphasise. "Do you think you can walk?"
Her face turns white as she frantically shakes her head.
"Not the time to be chicken, sister," Rose cuts in, quickly grabbing one of Isabelle's hand and getting to her feet. "Let's see if you can stand."
I hook her other arm around my neck for support and holding onto her waist, lift her up. "B-but m-mother-"
"-won't know," Rose says, determined. "Come on, we're going to have to get out of here before they find out."
Nodding, I pick up my duffle bag and sling it on my shoulder.
