It was a cold, depressing and stormy night. Some animals were struggling to find shelter in the woods. The human children were either in their beds or under them for 'safety' from the two monsters: Thunder and Lightning.
Meanwhile, Stine took a left turn and walked down the sidewalk with his head hanging Low, heading back home.
Memories rushed into his mind, causing tears to slide down his cheeks. As he cried silently, he let the sky cry on him too.
All it took for this middle-aged man to cry was looking at his wife's grave, walking towards it and then having small talks with it. Yep. This guy's broken all right.
Stine stuffed his wet hands into his side pockets of his jacket when he felt the cold wind freezing them. It suddenly picked up the pace along with the rain.
Because of that, he started to walk a bit faster.
'Just a little further,' he thought to himself as he took a right turn.
Suddenly, sounds of loud footsteps was heard behind him. He turned his head to a side and saw a dark figure following him. He could not see its face but it was already scary enough to know that someone was actually following you.
Stine walked faster, trying to get away from the person and at the same time, trying not to get the person to notice as he crossed the road after looking both ways to make sure no cars passes by and then started to run. You could tell he couldn't take the suspense.
'Almost... There...!' He thought.
The rain picked up even more that Stine couldn't see a feet away from him. Putting aside the list of possible dangers that might happen to him, Stine just ran, feeling scared. He looked back and gasped when he managed to see the dark figure.
It was flying towards him!
"Oh no," he said breathlessly when he realised he had accidentally passed by his house. "DAMNIT! WHY?!"
"STIIIIIIIIIiiiiinneee," echoing voices began to circle around Stine as he continued to run for his dear life.
He covered his ears, trying to block out the haunting voices. He then took a sharp turn to the right and down another sidewalk, not caring if he was far away from his home, and then down a dark alleyway.
"Stop! Please! I-it hurts!" Stine pleaded, hoping the 'person' would hear him. "I've never ran this much in my entire life! IT HURTS!"
He screamed when the wind pushed him backwards. He fell down and hit the wet concrete pavement hard. Closing his eyes in pain, he groaned as he struggled to stand up.
Then, out of nowhere, a voice of a young girl who was crying sounded soon after. Worry suddenly swept over Stine as he shook his head and stood up quickly. He looked behind him and saw that the figure was no longer chasing him, Nor an appearance of a crying little girl.
The author sighed and held his head with a hand. He looked down at his hand and noticed it was bleeding. He sighed again but sarcastically.
'Great.'
He froze when he felt someone breathing on his neck. He turned around quickly and screamed in horror. He was face to face with the dark figure itself.
It was standing way close to him. Its face was shadowed and it was hovering a few inches above the ground, staring down at the frightened horror writer. Its breath smelled sour as if he just got out of a grave. A decaying one.
Soon, Stine felt a strong feeling in his chest. He was no longer scared of the figure but he was furious at it. So so furious at it. Furious because it was following him. Furious because it made him ran passed his home. And furious because it made him exercise!
"Jane's dead. What the heck do you even WANT?!" Stine shouted at the figure with a tone of a lion.
It didn't reply, but it disappeared. Stine snapped back to reality when the same child voice sounded again. This time, it was clearer and louder.
"Please! It hurts! S-stop!!"
Stine's eyes widened when he heard the voice close by. His eyes stared at a dark corner of the alleyway he was in. Though through darkness, he could see four tall men torturing a little girl. Punching and kicking her and making her cry.
Angry, Stine shouted,"LEAVE HER ALONE!!"
The men turned to face Stine and growled. The innocent and hurt little girl was on the ground, carefully getting up. She slowly looked up to look at Stine with pleading eyes. From them, blood went down her cheeks as she watched the men surrounding Stine.
Stine stood still. Suddenly, he felt as if someone or something was holding him back. He tried to speak but his jaw couldn't move. He tried to at least do something physical, but he couldn't.
The gang of boys just stood there and not move a muscle just like Stine. Their scowling faces changed into empty looks. The little girl, however, coughed out a bit of blood before looking at Stine sadly. She opened her mouth to say a word that stunned Stine,
"Father?..."
******************************<^>
Stine woke up on his bed and sat up almost immediately. He was breathing hard and sweating bullets and was clutching his hand tightly on his chest.
"Oh god," He said and repeated breathlessly. "Oh god."
"Papa? Awe you okay?" A gentle and tiny voice sounded next to him.
Stine looked at his right and stared at Slappy. His wooden face showed worry. Will, on Stine's left, pouted on the author's lap, whimpering.
Stine's eyes were in tears as memories of the dream and others came back to him. He then mumbled something under his breath so that Slappy and Will could not hear.
"Whawt was that, Papa?" Slappy asked, sitting up.
"Aa-roo?" Will cocked his head to one side in confusion.
Stine covered his face with his shaking hands and started sobbing out a very familiar name. His daughter's name...
"S-Sarah... W-where are you... Sarah..."
********************************
M.N: SarahJStine , part one's done!😆!
YOU ARE READING
Before It All Started...
Fanfiction{Cover's by: @itsaaudra} A story before Slappy and R.L.Stine became enemies. A story how Hannah was created. A story that I obviously made up 'cause I was bored...
