The night was dark, but she didn't dare light a candle. There was someone outside her house. It was the noise that woke her, the shuffle-creak of a person on her porch. She lay in her bed and held her breath, searching the night for any other noise. She slid out of bed. The floor was cold on her feet, but she paid it no mind. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and walked softly through her dark room. The full moon's light lit up the hallway. She looked over the stairwell down at the darkness of the first floor.
There was no wind, no sound in the house except for her own breathing. It made it easy for her to hear the shuffling footsteps in the vague space in front of the entrance to her home.
The fear made her want to return to her room and hide under the blankets as she did as a child.
Ignore the monster, and it would go away.
But this wasn't a childhood monster.
This was a man. On her property when she was out here alone. Only a few people knew her father was out of town.
She knew who was on her porch, and she knew he was here to kill her.
The doorknob jiggled. It was locked up, which wouldn't stop him. She needed to hide.
She made her way down the stairs. She was soft-footed and sure, skipping the squeaky boards.
The front door gave a frightful thump as someone threw their weight against it. She rushed through the entryway as the banging on the door increased. Through the entryway, down the hallway, and opened the trapdoor that led to the root cellar. It was dark in the basement. The only light came in from the wall daylight window on the roof of the cellar. She held the door with both hands, and she pulled it down and closed, careful that it didn't make a thud.
Sound was muffled under the house. She couldnt tell if he had made it in the house yet. The best hiding spot she could find was behind the sacks of potatoes.
It was quiet. She muffled her breathing behind her hand and tried not to cry. She thought back over the last week, since the first time he showed up at her house, and wondered if there was anything she could have done differently.
There wasn't. She would never let him touch her, not without a fight.
He was an evil man.
A coward. He waited for her father to leave before coming around.
A shot of light struck the darkness as the trapdoor was opened.
She had 20 seconds. She thought of her father. She hoped he wouldn't be the one to find her.
18. He climbed down the stairs.
16. He crouched down to look at the packed dirt floor.
15. She must have left prints behind. He knew she was here.
13. His eyes searched the room. A predator looking for prey.
10. He stood and took his first steps towards his prize.
8. She was going to die.
5. There was nowhere to go as he rupped the sacturary behind the sacks of potatoes.
3. His face would be the last thing she would see.
1. She could smell his breath as he dragged her from the floor and pressed her against him.
This was her end.
She would fight, bleed, and die on the dirt floor among the roots and vegetables.
She could take her last breath in the house where she took her first.