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Big Bad Wolf

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Thunderstorm

It’s storming tonight.

The wind is howling wildly. Thunder and lightning rages every second.

And I’m all alone inside our two story house.

There are two entrances to our house. A front door and a back door, of course. We also have an attic and a basement. Our house is pretty big. It has a lot of rooms.

But fate hates us. Dad passed away a long time ago. And our first house was taken by a fire.

She hasn’t returned yet. I hope she’s okay, 'cause this storm’s a killer.

I feel weird tonight. I’m so worried about Mom. I hope this storm ends soon.

I’m lying on the couch in the entertainment room upstairs, watching television. I pick up the phone and try calling my mom a couple of times. But she won’t answer. What’s taking her so long? Of course, it’s the storm.

I turn off the TV and go down to the living room. I try to call her one more time. Her phone rings. And rings. And rings.

No answer.

It’s starting to get cold. Good thing we have a remote controlled electric fireplace. I click the button. Instant heat. I sit on the armchair and wait.

The storm’s getting angrier. The rain hits harder, thunder rumbles and screams violently.

Maybe I should make myself something, just to pass the time. I go to the kitchen and open the refrigerator. What’s good? Should I take that remaining slice of strawberry cake or a piece of lasagna from last night's party?

The lights suddenly go out. The fridge’s light ceases, the electric fireplace dies. Everything goes out. There’s nothing left but darkness.

Pitch black darkness.

Darkness eats away at my house.

The only light left is the occasional strike of lightning. And every time it strikes, I feel as if it hits me. It feels as if it’s struck me, the hair on the back of my neck rises. It gives me goosebumps.

I’m frightened.

I was never afraid of the dark, or lightning and thunder, or being alone despite all those. It happened to me once. I was a kid then.

I just waited. Like what I’m doing today. And you know what happened? Mom came. She came for me when I was a nine year old girl. Now she’ll do that again. I know she’ll return.

I run up the stairs, tripping a couple of times. I’m never careful.

Using the light of the lightning flashes outside, I make my way to my room and open the closet to take the emergency flashlight I hid there.

It’s getting colder.

I go down to the living room again, now armed with a flashlight. She’s still not here. Why? I look at the clock. Dang! It’s 11:00pm already!

Should I call her again? Now I’m really worried about her. Now I’m afraid. I’m scared for her.

A sudden feeling comes to me. I want to go out there and look for her.

But maybe she’s near. She must be walking outside. I should see her.

I rush to the front door, open it, and see a dark sky looming above me. I look around. No Mom. All I see is a vast space filled with wet grass and some trees. The road is on the left. Icy wind chills my body, and the cold seeps through my bones.

A loud crash explodes from the clouds. It’s so strong; it momentarily lit up the place, making it seem like day for a split second. I saw something during the flash, or someone, standing between the trees.

Who is it? Is it mom?

I look harder, foolishly using my flashlight as if its weak light would help me see through the vast darkness.

Another bright flash of lightning.

And the whole house comes to life. The power’s back. It seemed like Christmas with all the lights in my house on.

I look between the trees again and I see it. It’s not mom. It’s somebody else. And he’s running towards me fast. He runs like hell. He runs like he just got out of prison.

My heart begins to thump as my mind goes blank. He’s getting closer. What should I do?

I see a gleam in his hand and I realize what he’s holding. It was a big, deadly knife.

I scream as I regain control of my body. I slam the door shut as he was inches away from the porch and quickly lock it.

I don’t know what to do next.

He kicks the door hard. The sound reminds me of thunder.

I screamed again.

What should I do?

He kicks again. I scream louder.

Nothing’s gonna happen if I just stand here, waiting to be impaled.

I run down to the basement. I look around frantically for something. Anything.

I don’t even know what I’m looking for.

I hear it again. He wants to get in. He’s hungry for a kill.

What if I tell him I’m gonna call the police? Would that scare him? Maybe it’s too late. I begin panicking. I should stick to my plan.

I see the perfect weapon. A crowbar. I pick it up. Should I go back to the living room and wait for him to break the door? No. that’s suicide. I’ll just hide here. Besides, it’s not easy to break down that door.

Suddenly, he stops trying to break it. Why did he stop? Has he given up? Maybe. Wait. No. the back door!

I dash back upstairs, hoping it’s not too late. I hold my weapon tightly. Whatever comes, I’m ready. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I run past the living room and into the kitchen. The rain keeps getting more horrible as the wind dominates my hearing.

And I stop on my tracks.

There he is, standing at the threshold. Like I feared, he’s come through the back door. He’s wet, probably freezing. His tall structure makes his shadow cover the entire room. In his hand, the knife gleams.

Thunder and lightning crashes, killing the power again.

His long, black hair obscures most of his face, but I can feel the malice of his stare. He's wearing a black shirt, and I don't recognize the color of his pants through the darkness.

“Hello,” he says.

A smile crawls across his pale face. I scream in my mind.

“Get back!” I shout with all my strength. “I said go away!”

He sprints towards me, fast and deadly.

I swing my crowbar but it stops mid-swing. He caught it. Now he’s gonna stab me.

I let go of the crowbar and run as fast as I could away from him. He catches me and clutches my hair and pins me down.

I scream in pain as he pounces on me.

I’m done. I’m dead.

But I can’t give up. Not for my mom.

I kick hard and I was so lucky to hit his crotch.

He moans and curses me. I take the opportunity to dash up the stairs and straight to my room. It was quite funny because I didn’t trip even once.

I close the door and lock it. What should I do now? I fall to the floor, helpless. I shiver like I never did before.

Lightning strikes again. I scream. I never screamed because of lightning before. The rain’s getting weaker now. I also begin to compose myself, to get myself back together. I take a deep breath and look around. I still need to protect myself.

Damn, I forgot to stock up on deadly weapons in my room.

Then I hear him calling me. I can hear his footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Come out, little baby,” he says in his creepy voice. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I try to keep myself together. Don’t scream. Be as organized as possible.

I find my phone. I don’t think it’ll help me now, but what have I got to lose? I dial 911. It rings. My life depends on it. I hear an answer, but my phone suddenly dies. Oh, great.

Knock, knock.


He’s outside my room. Ugly psycho.

“Come on, honey, I know you’re in there.”

I almost flinch.

“Little girl, little girl, please let me in,” says the big, bad maniac.

“Fuck you!” I reply angrily.

I hear his angry rampage as he tries to kick down the door. My door isn’t as strong as the front door. He kicks again.

I keep my mouth shut, but my brain is screaming out in terror. The lightning strikes once more. I hear him kick again.

Then I hear a different sound. Something I’m familiar with. Something that I could’ve been very glad to hear, but this time, it makes my blood run cold.

Something that I've been waiting for the whole time, but now, I regret it.

It’s my mom. “Susan? Susan, where are you?”

And I’m pretty sure he heard her too.

“No!” I shout. “Not my mom! NOT MY MOM!”

I hear him run down the stairs.

Courageously, I open the door and follow him. But he’s already out of sight. I’m so frightened. And so angry. Going down the stairs feel like forever. It seems endless.

I reach the bottom, and I see it.

He sits on top of her. He’s stabbing ferociously.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

My mother just lies there, motionless. Her blood pools the floor. She's trying to scream but the blood that gurgles from her mouth prevents her from doing so. Her eyes darts toward me. They're filled with terror, shock, and they're saying something.

Run.

I can’t stand it. I’m so bewildered, I forget how to feel. He turns back to me. “Your turn.”

I snap back to my senses just in time to see the maniac coming towards me. I run to the kitchen and turn to see how far behind me he is.

He’s near.

He’s so determined. He’s unstoppable.

And he’s gonna get me.

I run faster. I try to exit through the back door when I feel something cold cut my back.

He slashed me.

I grab the first thing within my reach and smash it against him. It was a frying pan. It has no effect on him. He grabs me by the neck and throws me to the floor.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you yet. We’re gonna play first.”

Oh, no. no, please.

He kneels on top of me and rips my clothes off like a wild animal. I’m dead. I’m doomed.

He bites my shoulder. Then my ear.

He takes out his member.

"I'm going to rip you apart!" he shouts with zeal.

He opens me up like a kid opening a Christmas present.

It’s hopeless.

He is getting inside of me.

I’m giving in. I accept my fate.

But no.

No.

My mom wouldn’t have wanted this to happen.

I look around frantically. There’s the knife rack.

There’s nothing left for me to lose. It’s this or die helplessly.

I look him straight in the eyes. They were green. Green furious eyes.

I bite his nose. He shouts. I bite harder until it bleeds. I manage to slip away from his grasp. Taking advantage of his shock, I stand up and run for the knives.

He grabs my ankle. He stabs my leg and I fall.

I’m too angry to feel anything.

I jump for the knives and they fall to the floor. I grab one at random and stick in his eye. He rolls over and lays on his back, but never lets go of my leg. I grab another knife and cut off his penis.

He screams louder, like a little girl.

Knowing he doesn’t have enough strength to fight back, I sit on top of him.

I stab.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

His blood paints my half naked body.

I stop. He’s dead now.

I think of my mom. She was my last family. I remember what he did to her.

I look at his face.

Where his left eye used to be, there was now only an empty socket.

I feel weird. It’s the creepiest feeling ever.

It was…

Fun.

Enjoyment.

Pleasure.

The lightning strikes again.

I take his big knife and grip it tightly.

I need more. It felt so good.

I stab his dead body again. Then another one.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab…




Written by Spikesterino
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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