She ran through the halls of the old, rundown, house, trying to unlock the doors as she went. With each locked door, her panic mounted; her breath coming out in short bursts as she tried hard not to make a peep, lest her chaser hear her. Sweat poured down her face, the droplets blocking her vision, as she tried to find an escape from the nightmare she was stuck in. Her heart raced, blood pumping furiously through her veins, in anticipation of getting caught.
We are coming for you, cackled an unearthly voice, which was echoed by the old walls of the building.
The shadows were getting closer, she could feel it in the chill that ran up her spine, freezing her thoughts in fear. Shadows, that was the best way to describe her captors. She could neither see them nor hear them until they wanted it of her. The only indication she had of their presence was the chill that permeated their surroundings, freezing everything in their path.
Reaching the end of the hall, she tried to open the door, one last ditch effort to save her life. She screamed in frustration when the door wouldn’t give, forgetting her need for quiet in lieu of her impending death. Kicking and punching the door, she allowed the tears that she had held at bay roll down her face. She turned her back to the door in defeat, folding herself into a fetal position, as she gave up the little hope she had held on to for the past three days.
Three days, she had been locked in that hellhole of a house. Three days where her screams and pleas for help went unheard. Three days that she had spent in a constant state of terror. Three days that had drained her of the little hope she had held of getting out of the ordeal alive.
She felt them closing in on her as she sobbed into her hands. The coldness that seeped into her lungs, made her gasp, stealing her of her breath. Holding herself tighter, she prayed, to whoever was listening, to spare her.
But as it had been for the past three days, there was no one to come to her rescue as the shadows robbed her of her last breath, leaving an eerie silence behind.
“Cut! That was a great shot, Haley!” exclaimed the director, getting up from the equipment that had been set up outside the house so that he could monitor the cameras planted inside. “Uncannily real.”
He wondered idly if Haley was truly such a brilliant actor, or if the location they had chosen, a widely known haunted house, had helped her along by adding the right effects to the scene.
Seeing that she hadn’t gotten out of her character yet, the director joked, “Come now, Haley. Your shot is done, you can come back to the land of the living now.”
When she still hadn’t responded, he grew concerned and walked into the house, followed by the rest of his crew. Making his way over to the corner where Haley still sat, he touched her shoulder lightly, to jolt her out of whatever daze she was in.
What he saw made him stumble back in horror.
Haley lied there, her eyes and mouth wide open in terror, unmoving, not breathing…dead.