The wind had slammed into the old Gothic Revival all evening. Camille Hastings shivered from a draft from which she couldn’t escape. She zipped up her velour hoodie. Her grandmother had been taken in for observation and Camille had offered to take care of her pets. While watching old horror movies, one of her three cats darted by.
The cable went dead and she turned off the static. A scraping sound came from behind. She sprang from the Victorian sofa and gazed around the antique laden parlor. The blank dull eyes of a pair of statues seemed to glare at her from the top of a table.
She crossed the room and every hair on her body stood erect. She spun around to look at the porcelain busts and her gut clenched. Their eyes seemed to narrow as their grins grew broad.
She switched off the lights and walked through the dining room into the kitchen. I’m imagining things. While reaching for a glass from the cabinet, the overhead light flickered and a dark shadowy figure streaked by. “What the Hell?” She grabbed a knife from the drawer and searched the house. The three cats stretched out on the couch without concern. She climbed the stairs to the bedroom where she slid under the cold comforter and drifted off to sleep.
Camille awoke to footsteps. Her heart pounded. The glimmer of fading moonlight peaked between the curtains. Her eyes scanned the room, but no one was there. She glanced over at the bedside table. The carving knife glinted in the pale shaft of light. The alarm clock read 5:47. When Camille sat up to stretch, she let out a blood-curdling scream. The sibling statues stared at her with twin maniacal grins from the dresser at the foot of her bed.
“Mrs. Hastings, time for your medication. No more hallucinations?”
She shook her head and thought, I hope James and Judith leave Camille alone.
When was the last time you were truly frightened?
Flash Fiction in 3 – 100 word chapters – The Halloween Friday Fright-fest continues!
Photo by S. Lindau