Story by [Linderel].
She had never been afraid of the dark before. Always a happy, care-free child, she had gone through life with a friendly smile on her face and a skip in her step.
Until tonight.
Her whole life had been turned upside-down in the space of a mere three hours, and if she had ever been frightened of anything, it could not compare to this. Breathing shallowly, shivering only in part from the cold that seemed to have taken over the house and was even now penetrating the fickle protection of her night-gown, she clutched her pet bunny tightly to her chest and tried to remain as quiet as possible.
She shouldn't,
couldn't make a peep. Hidden, sitting curled up into a ball under the staircase, she knew she wasn't far from the very thing she was trying to escape. Deep shadows flickered over the wooden floor, making her hold her breath in horrified anticipation. Why did it have to be so very dark? She couldn't see anything, and the terrible wailing outside, the rattling and the creaking and the steady, violent drum against the windows convinced her that whatever she did, she should not move, not even an inch.
There was a loud crackle, and she couldn't help it; she screamed, a single, high-pitched sound that echoed in the house, and squeezed so tight that the bunny in her arms began a frantic struggle to get away. Her grasp slipped, just enough for the small animal to scramble and leap, making its way further until it disappeared into the shadows. She let out a soft yelp, a sound so filled with distress that she would not have recognised the voice as her own, and stared after her pet. Tears began pouring down her face. She had not thought it would be possible to be even
more afraid, but she was, she was, and she wanted nothing more than to get away from this house and the shadows and the ugly, ugly things she had seen only moments before. But there was nowhere she could go. Only the dark, the deep, deep shadows of the house and the terrible wailing outside.
She curled up tighter, put her head down on her knees and squeezed her eyes shut, as tight as they would go. Maybe everything would go away if she could block it. Maybe, maybe... she wished it would. Sobs were wracking her body now, and while she muffled the sound as best she could, she knew they would hear it, because they were listening very carefully, listening very carefully indeed and
sniffing her out. There was nowhere to go.
She cried. There was yet another loud crackle, though it sounded more like an explosion now, and she cried harder, shaking uncontrollably now.
A floorboard creaked. The shadows swayed and flickered and lengthened. She whimpered, and did not look up.
Stumble!