by Theresa Curnow

Created on: May 21, 2007

Broken Doll.

They were coming.
Cheryl could hear their heavy panting and their footsteps on the wooden stairs of the house.
It was a big house, an old mansion with a number of winding staircases and many places to hide. At the moment, she was hiding under her bed on the third floor, her eyes wide and terrified. Her parents were dead. Her brother was dead, and now they were coming for her.

Cheryl whimpered softly and clamped a hand over her mouth. She couldn't let them hear her. She had to be quiet like her cat Scampi was when he stalked mice; silent and stealthy but she was the mouse in this situation though and she was being stalked, hunted down. She bit down hard on her hand to quell her fear. They were moving closer. She could hear them on the second floor as they opened wardrobes and cupboards in the search for her. No doubt they'd be looking under beds too, she thought. She couldn't stay here. She had to get higher up in the house.
Cheryl slowly and softly slid out from under the bed and crept to the door. She peered out of the room, making sure her breath was shallow. It was cold in here and she didn't want them to see the telltale fog.
There was no one outside the room. Her crouching shadow on the opposite wall was the only thing that moved. She stepped out of the doorway and tiptoed to the stairs at the end of the corridor. She felt like a character in a horror movie and suddenly, all the scary films she had ever seen presented themselves inside her head in a kaleidoscope of disjointed figures, gushing blood and tortured screams. She pinched herself angrily. I'm not going to be like some stupid character that gets killed, she told herself. I'm going to escape. That thought spurred her and she ran up the stairs lightly on her bare feet.
A weapon, she thought. I need a weapon. She ran into the first room on the fourth floor, her father's office. She headed for the big oak writing desk and pulled open one of the drawers where she grabbed a letter opener and held it tight. Small but incredibly sharp. Maybe she could stab one of her pursuers in the eye, blind them. She quickly scanned the room but could see nothing else that she could use as a weapon so with the knife in her right hand, she left the room and thought of a good place to hide.
As she ran to the next room, she heard their voices. They were on the floor she had just come from, she thought.
"Hey, come on..we know you're up here somewhere."
Her heart slammed into her throat and she nearly wet herself.

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