You rush to your car, your sweaty grasp slipping on the hand..
🕑 Added 2020-11-03 00:45:47 +0000 UTC
You rush to your car, your sweaty grasp slipping on the handle and fumbling the ignition.
It’s started, your door is locked, and yet you can’t help but look to see where she is.
Nothingness stares back at you, the bleak stretch of road leading into a blackened forest. Your headlights only illuminate the path in front of you yet you feel the darkness around you like a heavy blanket.
Where is she?
Then you hear it. A sickening thump of a cold dead limb against your car, a pallid hand clutching onto your bonnet. As your skin turns to gooseflesh and your bile rises she clings to your car. She smiles at you through the windscreen, not in the least perturbed by your cold feet. She wants this, she needs this.
She needs your fear, she thrives off it.
