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Emma
Emma
“Hurry go get your brother, we need to head downstairs.” I struggled to pull the door back open slightly and then slammed it shut and locked the deadbolt on the door. That door was always getting stuck. I turned back towards my daughter. “Is everything okay Mom?” Emma looked worried. “Yes, my angel,” I said, caressing her cheek. “The storm is getting worse, though, and we’ll be safer downstairs. There’s snacks, books, and games and puzzles that we can do while we wait for it to clear up.” She smiled and nodded. “Now hurry and go get Jamie,” I said. “Okay mom,” Emma called, and turned on her heel to go and scoop up her baby brother from the crib.
We could hear the winds raging just outside the walls of the house and the crackle of lighting, followed by the low rumble of thunder. Outside the windows, the rain was pouring down, something awful. I pulled down the last set of blinds and shut off the lights, leaving the room illuminated by the candles lit on the sill in the walls. Emma returned with Jamie and we started down the stairs.
One … two … creak.
The sound of the creaking step bounced off the walls of the now silent house. Just as the sound stopped there was a solid pound on the door and Emma screamed. I consoled her and sent her downstairs with Jamie. I stepped carefully back up the stairs. The pounding continued, now frantic. I tip-toed to the door and peered through the peephole. I was confused when I saw the figure outside the door, because it looked like more of a shadow than a person but held the form of a man wearing a trench coat. The doorbell started ringing over and over, more frantic than the pounding at the door. I unlocked the deadbolt and the lock on the door knob and struggled again with the door. I finally wedged it free and pulled it open slowly. The figure before me was indeed a man in a trench coat but there was something off about him. He looked stretched and contorted, almost like he didn’t fit into his own skin. His eyes were focused on me but they were wild and bloodshot and seemed to stick out of their sockets, just a bit too far.
His voice was raspy, “PLEASE! PLEASE LET ME IN! Nowhere to go … STORM GETTING CLOSER!” “I-I uh,” I stumbled on my words, trying to comprehend the bizarre figure of the man. Just then, a bolt of lightning struck down behind him only a few blocks back and the sound was deafening. I covered my ears and he flinched and cowered beneath his own arms. “PLEASE,” he begged me. I didn’t know what to think of him. Against my better judgement, I invited him inside. Relief flashed over his features for a brief moment and he scurried in after me. He was soaking wet, so I walked to the opposite side of the house to retrieve a towel. I stumbled around in the dark, knowing that turning the lights on could prove dangerous with the lighting striking the city. I felt my way along the walls and found the knob to the closet where the towels were stored. I pulled the door open and started to pull one out when I heard scratching from back the way I came. I took the towel and walked back toward the front door slowly. I took my steps lightly, so as not to be heard. I peered around the corner, walking back through the kitchen area of the house.
I saw the man staring down at the bottom of the stairs. His head was cocked to one side and he was twitching slightly. I approached him slowly, “here sir, so you can dry off.” I offered him the towel. He kept his back turned to me. “Can I take your jack-” I stopped when I saw Emma at the bottom of the stairs, quivering and with tears welled up in her eyes. She was holding Jamie close to her, as if she was protecting him from something. “Sir … are you alright? Your jacket?” I said with caution. He stood up straighter and towered over me. I hadn’t noticed, but he had been hunched over since he’d appeared at the door. “Yes …” he said starting to turn toward me slowly. I took a step back and the trench coat around his shoulders fell to the ground. My breath was caught in my throat at the realization that something was very wrong with this thing before me. The arms were much longer than they’d seemed before, and the finger tips were adorned with nails that were much too-long. It wore no clothes beneath the coat; something else I’d failed to notice. Its skin stretched unnaturally and broke in many places, but there was nothing visible beneath the skin. Finally, it turned its face to me and I screamed in horror. Its eyes were gone, leaving an empty void behind. It’s mouth, still agape, shared the appearance.
“… Thank you,” It said allowing its empty gaze to meet my eyes. It let out a horrible, unearthly screech and stepped toward me raising an arm. I stumbled backward and tripped, falling onto the floor as its arm came down in a sinister arc, slashing at where my body would’ve been and tearing into furniture behind me. The thing fell, and I dashed underneath it as it came down above me. I pulled at the door and tried to unlock it, but it wouldn’t budge. I ran toward the stairs and screamed as a vase smashed on the wall, dangerously close to my head. “EMMA RUN!” I shouted, and she turned and ran to the right. I turned to see the thing pulling itself back onto its feet and starting toward me. I flew down the steps, two at a time, and dashed to the right just as Emma had. She was standing further down the corridor staring in disbelief and I waved my arms at her, motioning for her to keep going. She turned on her heel and sprinted down the rest of the long hall, still clutching Jamie and pulled hard to her left toward the mechanic’s closet. Good. She was hiding. I reached the end of the corridor and turned finding the creature at the bottom of the steps now and stalking toward me. ‘There’s no way it saw Emma.’
I turned to watch what it would do for a moment. I wanted it to follow me. It let out another screech. It dropped onto all fours and skittered toward me like a spider. My breathing became panicked and I turned right and made a mad dash for the cellar. I reached the door and threw it open, practically throwing myself down the stairs that followed as the thing slashed at me again, barely missing my legs. I reached the bottom and dropped beneath a shelf where the shadows were thick. I heard thumps on the stairs and assumed it had stumbled and fallen. Everything went silent. I listened to my own breathing, trying to slow it.
In, out. In, out. In, out. In. SLAM.
I held my breath. It had landed in front of me. I could see it on all fours barely 6 inches from my face. The shadows were thick enough that it couldn’t see me. It prowled past me ever so slowly, claws clicking on the cold, smooth, concrete floor. It passed by and I pulled myself out from beneath the shelf carefully. I stood up silently and crept away, watching it in the corner near the furnace. It didn’t move, it just twitched like it had at the top of the stairs, watching Emma. Or listening. I took slow, careful steps backward toward the stairs. I was almost there and then my heart sank when I heard a voice. “Mom?” called the panicked whisper of my daughter, who was now at the bottom of the stairs; in the cellar with me and the thing. Its head snapped back toward Emma as soon as her soft voice rang out. It screeched once more and lunged at her. “NO!” my voice rang out and I grabbed the creature by one of its arms and yanked it back in my direction. Emma screamed and ran toward the side of the cellar with the furnace.
The thing slashed at me and I felt pain burn up my right side. “MOM! MOM HERE!” She pulled the furnace open slowly with a loud creak and I pulled with all my might over and over bringing the thing closer to the opening of the furnace. It screamed and thrashed trying to fight me, but I kept pulling, ignoring the fiery pain I felt burning up my ribs. I reached the furnace and Emma pulled it open the rest of the way and the flames licked the thing’s hand. It flinched and screeched and tried to fight but grew weaker. Finally, I gave it a strong pull, crying out in my effort and shoved the thing into the fire and Emma slammed the door shut. It screamed and hissed for a few moments and then it was gone. I panted, sweat beading up on my face and looked at my daughter with Jamie in her clutch. I smiled. I touched my side and brought my hand back up. It was painted crimson.
I kept smiling as a single tear rolled down my cheek. I felt myself crumple to the floor and everything went black.
“Emma.”
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Another short story. Different genre this time, though. This was something I was working on for a school project, but I liked it so much that I finished it for Teenink. So, without further ado, here is Emma.