Sally Wilson cut through the back alley by the bar. It was at least 2 in the morning, pitch black. Her mum would be so angry with her, staying out past curfew. But she would cross that bridge when she got there, she thought.
As she walked through the alley, she felt eyes on her. A gang of drunken fools were following her. She started running, hoping to get rid of them. Drunk, they wouldn't be able to follow her. As she exited the back alley, she cut through the dark park, climbing the gates to get in. Her house was just around the corner.
"Young lady, shouldn't you be home?" A male voice called from the gates. She turned, seeing no one. She ignored the voice, even though he continued to call at her. As she got home, she snuck into her room. Her mum must have fallen asleep waiting for her. She would get in trouble tomorrow, but for now, she would sleep.
The next morning, she went into the kitchen. It was noon, yet her mum was nowhere to be seen. She opened the pantry and cried out in horror. Her mum, sister, and brother had been murdered while she was away. The worst thing, though, was the message above their heads. "Aren't you glad you weren't home, young lady?" It asked in their blood, still dripping.
She spun to get the phone, to call for help, but froze in the motion. Standing in front of her, with blood on his hands, a man called, "Aren't you happy to be home, young lady?" It was the same voice she heard earlier in the park. The last thing she saw was his grin, before he swung his butcher knife.
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories/Dreams
Historia CortaHere's a book of short stories. I'll put in some of my freaky dreams and everything, including other genres such as romance and adventure, and some depressing feel stories. It might be a little gruesome, frightening, or downright mental. Don't call...
