A single skinny street lamp stood dead in the distance, flickering hopelessly.
Her black boots clinking along the forsaken path, she made her way uneasily through the dilapidated park. Once a place of joy and amusement - reduced to a dumping ground rife with danger. Gusts of wind assaulting their frigid frames, the towering trees flailed around aimlessly: nature's sturdy puppets. The vile stench of some strange substance invaded her nostrils, sending a chill down her shivering spine. With nothing to guide her but the intermittently wavering light far off in the distance, her eyes were glued to the murky, grey expanse overhead; pure night staring back at itself, hoping to engulf her in its enticing, black quilt.
Swaying in the breeze, the solitary streetlamp shone dazzlingly for a brief moment - before fizzling out again.
"Just stay calm," Hannah thought to herself, "my eyes are simply playing tricks on me again." At the enlightening yet depressing age of 27: the world was no longer pink, her jewel-set, jade eyes scrutinised the topography with skepticism. Loosely hanging on to her wide shoulders, her deflated yellow jacket drooped over her wiry frame. Perhaps unluckily for Hannah, this place was all too real (or as she put it "the perfect crime scene). They had been fighting again: the tall and primeval monsters they were. Craving connection, the last thing she desired was company. Something the stifling surroundings so masterfully failed to provide.
Deciding that she had wearily walked for a reasonable amount of time, Hannah set herself down upon an ancient, rickety bench slumbering restlessly alongside the aged trail. Taking a clearer look: she observed some rather salient, suspicious stains cemented into the woodwork. The rough, grainy surface of the seat was a tapestry of faded brown and fuchsia, the mere sight of it making her skin tingle. Regaining her composure, she tried to calm the storm of her mind, despite the futility of such an effort.
The lamp was still and silent.
That was when she heard it. The sound.
Well - sound was quite an understatement. It assaulted her ears with the force of a raging hurricane, scattering her thoughts everywhere. A shrill, warbling whine pierced the stagnant night air. Without even a second thought. She ran. Refusing to look behind her. She urged her exhausted body to accelerate. Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left — pain snaked its way through her tortured leg as she crashed into the gravelly ground face-first, her usually well-behaved hair a contrived curtain over her filthy face.
Despite the searing pain, Hannah hoisted herself back on to her screaming feet: only to feel five small, slippery snakes tightly grip her arm. She dared to glance behind her.
The lamp sprung into life.
What she saw struck fear into her very core...
