I locked the door and pressed myself against it. With all my strength I leaned upon it, praying I would be able to keep it closed. I was crying. Hot tears splashed against my cold cheeks. I was breathing rapidly, my mouth becoming dry.
I'm gonna die.
I wanted to bang my head against the wall until it killed me. But there was an easier way. I lifted my shirt up to expose a gun tucked into my belt.
I was sobbing now.
It was either I do it, or she does. I ran my fingers through my hair, grabbing it roughly.
Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.
Something moved up the stairs, by the bathroom. I stared into the pitch black.
It was in the house. Of course it was. This house belonged to it.
I made out a dark figure of a woman.
"Please no, don't do this." My pleading voice echoed in the empty house, as I said this the woman was then on the stairs. I don't know how but the next thing you know she was just there.
I put the gun to my head. I moaned and wailed before I did it. But I did do it.
I did pull the trigger.
and when I fell, the last thing I saw was the woman, smiling at me.
YOU ARE READING
The Killing
HorrorShe's bound to the house, yet she hooks to people. People she can manipulate, to harm others and themselves. She needs them to survive. To exist. The only problem for her is, she only comes out in the dark.
