The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Tonight You’re Mine, Completely  
by Kendra Smart  

The air was gone from her lungs, she could feel her body screaming at her to give it a damn break. Her breath was too loud, she couldn’t hear anything over it. The woods were dark and the fog made it impossible to discern where she was and just what was around her.  There in the distance was a light, warm. Possibly help?  Could she chance it? 

Morgan Logan was not a runner and surely was no track star. Her friends were already dead. Their blood was all over her, at this point landmarks of her friends perishing could be pinpointed. What had started as a summer vacation at a lake before college had become something far more gruesome and it was very clear that none of them would be present for their first day of classes. 

Ja’Quisha, Jackie, Lorrie, and Ryan had all been caught. She was all that was left and this waiting and wondering she feared was what would get her killed. This horrific “Choose Your Own Fate” choice had her paralyzed and sickened. It was hard to compartmentalize and see the safe path when nothing was safe. 

The trees all looked the same on this mountain side and the thought that this cabin offered more safety than the woods was hard to decipher. What if it was a trap? What if this is where he had been steering her the whole horrid night? Why was he doing this? What had they done?  Her heart was hurting more ways than one as her mind divided in rapid succession, analyzing the paths available.

You have to make a choice, Morgan. Live or Die, right? Just like the movie marathon they had watched the night prior.  The night prior hadn’t had her friends’ entrails strung like Christmas lights. Hearts had still been in bodies and beating. 

She looked behind her and held her breath, straining to hear anything other than the nightlife that was around her, the nocturnal creatures both beast and man. Other than that no tell tale signs that someone was coming…*SNAP!*

Morgan ran. 

Her heart raced as the adrenaline once again hit. She stumbled her way towards the cabin crying out as she reached the door only to find it locked. She pounded on the wood, begging someone to let her in.  

“Please, please, please…Hello?”

The door cracked open and Morgan let out a small squawk as she was yanked inside and the door bolted again. 

“Ry…Ryan?” 

The person before her was wearing his clothes but his face was being held together badly by duck tape, the blood was pooling around the edges of the tape, looking almost black in the fire’s light. She had thought the ax had killed him but here he was before her, breathing heavily and looking ashen but alive… for now. 

He held his finger up to his lips telling her not to talk, his attention on the noises still outside. It wasn’t long before he pushed towards the corner of the room out of line of sight of the windows. His efforts were so soft, not much strength there. Morgan knew a fight was going to be up to her. 

As they crouched by the fireplace, Morgan saw at the base of the brick a corner of paper. She tugged at it gently and discovered a letter had been wedged under the brick. It had obviously been there a few years because the paper was stiff and felt very brittle in her hands, it smelled musty and also of smoke. But as she unfolded it and began to read, a gasp escaped her mouth. 

“To you who are reading this letter,

Get out. Now. It isn’t safe. 

Those words could have helped you, if said before entering this cabin. But the second you crossed the threshold, ink dry on the Welcome book…well, you belonged to me. But since I don’t really want you to leave and these musings will really just be for myself, I guess intent really does matter, doesn’t it. 

It hasn’t been easy hiding this beast inside, the one fueled by blood and screams. Never clean. It isn’t worth it if it isn’t messy. But to be messy you need room. Space to breathe. Rolling echoes of space to compress the screams. 

One theory of thought is that you should stifle the sound to snuff it out. Silence it. Hide it away. 

I feel these intentions are shameful. For what am I to be ashamed of doing? “

As Morgan read, things became much clearer. There would never be a why.  She felt Ryan shudder beside and knew their time was running out. She looked up at the window and saw what had caused the shiver. There was a shadow walking past the window. 

She had a fire poker, her only choice it seemed as her eyes scanned what she could easily get to as a useful weapon. Her hands were almost around the wrought iron when she heard movement…on the roof?

“You have got to be kidding me.” 

She gulped as ash and soot hit the fire from above, a scream erupted as one by one her friends’ heads were lobbed down the chimney to land askew on the floor. Their beautiful faces forever marred with grotesque death masks of terror and pain. Morgan felt rivers of tears streaming down her face as her own fight or flight was tested.

She wasn’t even prepared in her terror induced state for the window behind her breaking and the arms grabbing her as both prey and predator went down.  The wind went out of her as she felt just how much heavier he was then her and just how hopeless this might be. The poker had stayed in her hand and she brought it back into whatever soft give would take the metal point.  

But instead of a cry of pain she heard a horrible and cruel laugh.

Morgan had gotten nothing but air, while this man had gotten his breath and a fist full of her hair.  

She felt the first burning hot stabs of pain as he jutted his knife into her side and stomach. But all she felt after was warmth. The warmth of the pool under her, the warmth of the blood, just warmth as she choked and gurgled on fluid. 

She could hear the odd song he hummed as he watched her eyes and wiped his knife.

“Happy 50th to me.”  

Fiction © Copyright Kendra Smart
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from author Kendra Smart:

Just Emotions:
A Gothic Bite Magazine Anthology

A collection of poetry.

‘Just Emotions‘ is exactly as it states, a group of writers who had feelings they wanted to express in poem form. Inside, there are a range of emotions to explore. Each writer has given a bit of themselves to you, each in their own way.

We hope that you enjoy these writings and that among the poems you may find some thing you can identify with or relate to. Thank you for giving us this chance to open the catacombs and share with you.

Available on Amazon!