Horror
Stranger of the night...
On completing my degree, I was in a mad hurry to leave my parent's house and begin my own life away from my dad's prying eyes and my mom's constant nagging. Being a rather unsociable lover of nature, I got in the market for an apartment closer to the woods and away from the cluster of houses that populated the city.
I got an apartment in the outskirts of town. It was a small house with antique furniture and wooden floorboards, overlooking a river and a vast patch of forest. Mom went ballistic on discovering my choice of a house but I'd pacified her by allowing my kid brother, Kelvin, move in with me.
Kelvin and I got to working on the apartment the next day. Night came and I was beginning to doubt my sanity for purchasing a house a good distance away from civilization, and lacking power supply. We hadn't brought along a flashlight and resorted to lighting up the wooden torches that stuck out from the walls.
Exhausted, Kelvin and I lounged in the living room making plans for the next day when we heard a loud twang. A deafening silence ensued. "Rat's perhaps." I whispered. Kelvin shook his head and explained that he'd locked up his guitar in its case.
Grabbing a torch, Kelvin and I made for the basement. Breath bated, I held out the flaming torch before me, tiptoeing my way down, Kelvin trailing silently behind me. The sound of nails scratching against the floorboards stopped us in our tracks. I heard Kelvin's teeth chatter as he held out a shaky hand and grabbed my arm.
We paused at the door of the basement, undecided. Just then, the living room door opened and shut inscrutably with a frightening creak. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and it was enough hard work steadying my quivering hands. I gripped the knob shakily and opened the door slightly.
I peered from behind the flames, scanning the room with my eyes. I gave Kelvin the nod and stepped into the room. The door shut behind me as quickly as I'd slipped in, separating Kelvin and I. Panic stricken, I let fall the torch and pounded on the door. Kelvin screamed from the other side. His screams soon turned into muffled gasps, and his pounding grew faint. Silence followed and next came a thudding sound.
By now, the torch had set aflame some pieces of rags, better illuminating the room. Tears stung my wandering eyes as I sought a means of escape. My eyes came to rest on a large vanity mirror. But it wasn't the mirror that held my gaze leaving my knees wobbly, and my mouth dry. It was the image in it. The figure doned a hospital gown and had long silky hair cascading over its face and shoulders. A bloody knife hung from a hand. I turned in the direction of the image. Nothing but the splatter of blood.
Photo credit: pexels.com
