UNFINISHED
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Y/N was released from the asylum 1 year ago, she was there since she was 13, she's now 20. It was hard at first to live in an ordinary lifestyle but she got used to it. But now that the most wanted serial killer "Issac Foster" brea...
I yank my head to the side as soon as I hear the sound. Shards of glass from my window are flying in my direction. It seems as everything is happening in slomo.
I duck behind my bed as the shards clatter on the hard ground. After about 5 seconds everything returns back to silence and to it's regular speed.
Laughing fills the room. A laugh that sounded insane almost like how mine used to be. I slowly stand up and make eye contact with a shadowy figure standing in front of the broken window.
The person's eyes glow a menacing red and they throw their head back cackling nonstop. They soon stop and start walking closer to me. I tell my body to move but it's frozen in place. As they get closer I realize it's a male.
His face is covered in bandages only with his eyes peering through. Dark black hair falls on his face. His pants are red and he's wearing a brown jacket along with his bandages.
I'm standing on the side of the bed and he's now on the opposite side.
I open my mouth to talk but he beats me to it.
"How about this kitty, I'll give you 3 seconds of a head start to get out of this house and run away. This house is surrounded by the forest so hiding won't be that hard for you. Now finding you is what will be interesting. It will make killing you more fun."
He lifts up an object which looks like a scythe and lifts it up his head.
"3," he yells as he swings the scythe down the bed making a cut on the surface of the sheets. I stare at him in shock not being able to move.
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I finally manage to make myself move and slowly back away from him to the doorway. I go down the stairs two steps at a time.
"1!" I hear him shout from upstairs. His footsteps coming down the stairs echo through the empty house. He make his way to the back door. He grabs the doorknob and before he opens the door he swings his head back and looks directly at me.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk. What are you a 5 year old. That hiding spot is so basic, under the blankets on a sofa, really?" he speaks in a threatening playful tone, "you thought I wouldn't see you there did you? Well listen hear kitty I'm not as dumb as I look." For less than a second I catch his eyes glimmer those enchanting but intimidating red again.
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