"Your the Angel." the psycho old man whispered sinsterly into my ear upon my trembling face.
I was the Angel. Easy. But my real struggle was whether I was going to save someone else or myself.
The game was getting harder. The old man thought it would be funny if Jason could kill anyone, even is he wasn't the Mafia.
When my drifted to across the room where Dani sat, curled up in her own ball of guilt. She moarned for her boyfriend. My best friend.
Suddenly, the lights to the once brightly lit nursery, shuddered off.
I waisted no second to scurry up from my position and head downstairs. Chills ran down my spine as passing players brushed their shoulders against mine. Without a care, I don't bother to step cautiously over the poor dead boy at the bottom the horrendous staircase.
Worries begin to overwelm me as I feel I limp begin to form in my ankle. Shit.
I could already feel myself favor my stronger leg.
As I stumbled my way into the living room, my eyes try their best to analyze the room for potential hidding spots because I don't plan to run from the killer. Not when my ankle is bleeding out.
Instantly, I lock eyes on the curtain hanging over the window. I notice how they are thick enough to convince someone that no one would be there and how hidden and two way just in case some one were to weed you out.
Hiding in Plain Sight.
Slipping my way behind the curtain. I press myself hard against the cold clear window. Then crouching down, I wait in silence for a scream or anyhting that could jeopardize where I am hiding.
Suddenly, I feel a cloth under my hand that I use as a cruch for my wounded ankle. Rubbing it against my hands to better identify it. I give myself an idea. Instantly, ringing it out as slowly and silently as I can. I pull it around my ankle and tie it extremely tight to stop the bleeding. I wince in pain. To prevent drawing attention to myself, I bite hard on my lip.
As I finsh my last knot, I let out a long sigh. My breathing has increased by now and I place my hand over my heart in attempts of slowing the heart beat down. My breathing sped up. It was hard not to breath beacuse doing so was easily give away where I was hidng.
Suddenly footsteps enter the room.
Regretablly, I spas out. This cause someone or something to fall against my shoulder. To afraid to look, I glue my eyes shut. Soon, the footsteps shuffle out of the room after rumuging through things in the thing. Fortunately, whatever was in the room never got to my side of the room due to a noise that caught it's attention from the kitchen. The sound was of a pan following of the rack and clashing on the floor. That person would indeed be dead.
As on cue, I hear someone scream. It was a girl's scream. A very familiar scream. Samar's scream. You idiot. Waisting no second. I bolt from where I crouched and dart for the kitchen.
When I enter the kitchen I could see two figures battling one another. One was defend themself and the other was using a butter knife to ttempt to lash out at Samar.
Looking over to the side counter, I swipe the nearest potential weapon I could find. A pen.
But it was too late because the killer noticed me enter the room.
After shoving Samar to the floor, the figure stood up and square up to me. The butter knife being held in the figure's right hand. I ddi that exact thing. But I had the pen in my dominant hand. My left.
Blinking a few times to try see better through the darkness around me and identify the figure that stood before me. But to no luck. Without hesistation, the silouhetted figure lashed out at me.
Out of stupid defense, I lift up my arm to protect my face from the slash. Unfortunately, I feel a wrenching pain ooze from arm. Screams start to automatically spew out of my mouth.
I am going to die.
I feel myself hit the ground with a thud. My whole spinning from the impact on my head. I am too weak to rub my head back to health. The cold ground weakens my states.
All I know that right now, I am bleeding out on the floor of the kitchen as the Mafia corners me for it's kill.
"I save myself." I mumble under my breath.
The Mafia immediately turns his gaze over to Samar, who leans wounded against the bottom kitchen cabinet. I watch from where lay on the ground as the Mafia raises his right hand with the knife.
Tears run down Samar's face, unable to expect her fate. She pleads for mercy. But without sympathy, the Mafia angles their knife downward at Samar. She cries out.
I clench my eyes close to only here Samar's last dying scream.
She's gone.
The lights to the kitchen and the whole entire flicker on and I find myself weeping on the floor.
From out of identity view, the Mafia slowly walks away from Samar's lifeless body. Her eyes still staring at me.
The Mafia makes there way over to my lying body and bends over to whisper into my ear.
"I'm sorry. I didn't know it was you."
This voice is awfully familiar. Too familiar. From my weakened point of view, I watch as the unknown figure scurries their way over to the kitchen sink and wets a cloth. Then making their way back over to me, the Mafia kneels downs and dabs lightly and gently against my scars on my arm.
Then directing my attention, I notice my wounds start to heal. Even the cut on my ankle. My angel blessing healed me.
"Tyler!" I heard Dani's warm familiar voice yell.
From beyond my point of view, I imagine her approach me. She get's me to my tender, weak feet. Then she grabs my newly healed arm and swing it over her shoulders as a cruch.
Dani's aid allows me to finally identify the Mafia that killed my best friend.
And I am horrified to see that it is... Talia.
YOU ARE READING
The Mafia | An Original Horror Story
HorrorIn the small town of White Bridge, Maine, Tyler faces the end of summer. She is determined to spend her last days with her friends before they go their separate ways for college. Along with her friends, she decides to go to an old abandoned house...