Whatever You Do, Don't Read This (A Horror Short Story)

Part 3

Part Three

I listen to the footsteps, making their slow progress up the stairs.

Creak...

Creak...

Creak...

It's probably Leah coming back for her ax. I know that, rationally – but there's something wrong about it. That doesn't sound like the clickety-clack of stiletto boots. More like somebody in their stocking feet, trying to sneak up on me.

"Hello?" I call out, and there's a definite quaver in my voice.

The only answer is the sound of the footfalls, growing closer.

Creak...

Creak...

Creak...

Something isn't right. Leah would have answered me.

My phone is still gripped in my hand. I flick the Wattpad app closed and pull up my phone keypad instead. My thumb hovers, ready to place a call to campus police if need be, but I'm keenly aware of my defenselessness. I'm all by myself in this house. I don't even have a lock on my bedroom door. The sliding metal door latch accidentally got yanked out of its socket last month, during a moment of slight inebriation on my part, and I never got around to replacing it.

Oops.

My eyes dart to the pick axe, leaning against the wall. It probably isn't sharp, but it looks authentic. Maybe intimidating enough to scare off an intruder? It's the closest I'm going to come to a real weapon...

I get myself onto my hands and knees and crawl awkwardly to the foot of my bed, careful to move my bad ankle as little as possible. The ax is leaning against the wall. It's right next to the spot where I had my Eric Thorn cut-out (until I threw a pillow at his head). I reach for the handle and I almost lose my balance. My hand darts out and braces against the bedroom wall to keep myself from falling head first off the edge of the bed.

"Crap!"

I let out a muffled curse as I shift my weight away backward. That was a close one. I was about an inch from bashing my skull in, and my heart pounds from the sensation that I was about to fall.

I take a deep breath to steady myself, and my eyes travel to the floor. That's weird. I expect to see the plain brown cardboard backing of the cut-out lying at the foot of my bed. But it's not there. I can't see any trace of it, actually. What the heck? Somehow, it must've drifted all the way under my bed when it fell over.

"Focus, Kelsey," I whisper to myself. I'll fish Eric out from under my bed later. One thing at a time. For now, I need that ax...

My heart drops as my fingers close around the handle. It looks like solid wood, but it squishes in my grasp like a flimsy piece of foam. Useless. If there's really an intruder in the house, this thing isn't going to do anything to stop them.

I'll just have to fake it.

I kneel on my mattress, brandishing the ax in one hand and my cellphone in the other. I hold my breath and listen. The footsteps sound like they're right outside my door.

"Who's there?" I call out again, putting some steel in my voice. I'm improvising as I go. The last thing I want is to let on that I'm all alone in here.  "Don't come in! Ummmm... we're not dressed! I've got a guy in here!"

Of course, there's only one half-naked male who's been in my room all school year, and he's made out cardboard. Minor detail. If that's Leah, she'll know I'm lying, but it might be enough to dissuade a stranger.