A Chance to Heal

Confrontation

There were no words for what she felt at that moment. Her emotions were a jumbled mess of guilt, fear and something she couldn't quite verbalize. All she could do was stare at the man she used to call 'Papa'. It was more horrifying than she ever could imagine. He was wearing the sweater her Mother got him for Christmas. And the glove that he'd used on...the glove...her stomach twisted. This couldn't be real. Papa was very much dead...how could...how could he be in her house? Especially with the burns he seemed to have.

Then the gravity of the situation hit her all at once. Quentin was right. Quentin was right and the proof was smirking at her in the face. Kathryn felt nauseated as she stared at the man she used to love. Kneeling down, she picked up the knife off the ground. Her gaze never leaving his as she did so. Holding it out in front of her, she said,"Stay away from me, Papa."

The man tilted his head to the left before taking a step forward. His arms wide open as he stared into her eyes. With a chuckle, he asked,"What? No hug for Daddy? I'm crushed."

"Stay back, or I'll stab you. This is your final warning.",she hissed. Trying to sound braver than she really felt. Her hands were shaky and she felt sweat roll down her back. All she wanted to do was run out of the house. Run as far as she could until she woke up on her own. Or someone woke her up. Anything to keep her Father away from her. To her dismay, he took another step closer. His grin still in place as he did so. Right until he was an arms length in front of her. The smell coming off of him almost made her sick. It was like burnt pork that had gone rotten a while ago. Feeling bile rise in the back of her throat as he reached out to touch her with his non-gloved hand. With a scream, she slashed at his arm. He pulled his arm away from her, backing away as he cursed. Kathryn held the knife up towards him again. Her hands shook as she glared at him. Trying to look braver than she felt. Any bravery that she had felt was gone when she saw what he did next.

Letting go of his wrist, he stared at the wound. Which hadn't been as big as she had hoped for. Then she saw the injury slowly heal itself in front of her very eyes. It was like a horror movie. Lifting her gaze from his wrist to his face, she bit her bottom lip. His gaze quickly met hers and a smirk grew on his face. A chuckle escaped his mouth as he said,"Daddy's little Kitten still has some fight in her...good...it'd be boring if you didn't."

The nickname almost made her want to vomit. Instead she just kept the knife out at arms length. Her eyes narrowed at him as she backed away from him. Not even bothering to say anything to him. He probably wasn't expecting her to. So she decided to flee her house. And as she ran, she heard him coming up behind her. Kathryn didn't dare look over her shoulder to see how close he was. All she did was pick up the pace. After a while, she found herself in front of her old house. Or at least it somewhat looked like it. The house was dilapidated. Like no one had lived in it for decades.

It also wasn't anywhere near her now home either. That hadn't made sense, but neither did seeing her Papa either. This was just plan madness.

She debated running into the house to hide. And for a moment, she decided against it. As it was probably locked or not safe. When she glanced over her shoulder to see how far Freddy was from her. He was ten feet from her and closing the distance quickly. Kathryn made up her mind about the house and booked it. Swiftly getting inside then heading upstairs. Going straight to her old bedroom to hide. First putting her dresser against the door. Hoping that its weight would do something to help keep him out. For added measure, she slipped under her bed. Putting a hand over her mouth to quiet her breathing. When she was safely under the bed, she listened for footsteps. A little while, she heard him moving around in the hall. Hearing her name was being called several times. Along with the nickname that he had given her when she was very young. Sometimes coming close to her old room. Then moving away from the door. All she did was curl up with the knife near her. Planning on her next course of action if he got in. Her thoughts got interrupted when she heard him pounding on the door. Acting all sweet as he tried to coax her out. He said,"Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty...come out. Papa doesn't wanna hurt you. I only wanna play."