Hi, all! I’m entering a Haloween Writing Contest @ Scale It Simple! You can check out all the details if you want to join or vote for me! (If you DO want to vote for me send an email to firstname.lastname@example.org casting your vote!) The first 2 paragraphs here are used for every entry! All submissions and votes must be placed by midnight on Halloween(October 31st!)
On The Run
It was one of those nights on cemetery lane that made you feel electric with energy and somber with thought all at the same time. The air was crisp, dead leaves scattered as they ran underfoot and glided overhead, filling the night with noise. The moon was full and luminous casting an eerie light on the scene below. Halloween was in full swing, the streets were abuzz with hooded figures and lively children enjoying their annual candy hunt.
Hidden from the action at the end of the long lane of perfectly decorated houses stood the towering and dark-windowed number 13 cemetery lane. Behind it, the forest stood lightless and desolate, a depressing shadow on a lively scene. It was in this very house at this very moment that…
The doorbell rang. Mr Brown couldn’t believe his luck.The other man, wearing a murderous grin, slid the knife back into his pocket and released his grip from the weedy man. Mr Brown flew back in his chair.
“I’ll be back” he whispered to his frightened victim.
Gasping for breath, sweat trickling down his forehead, Mr Brown studied the mechanism of the knot tying his hands together. He’d never seen this one before.
At all his years as a banker, Mr Brown had only learnt how to untangle the old-fashioned phone wire. He hadn’t exactly prepared to be threatened to death by a crazy and bizarre madman who had tied him up to a creaky chair so tight, he almost couldn’t breathe.
One thing, Mr Brown had learnt was to remain calm. Even as blood drained from his face and his legs ached with pain, he gnawed at the rope, his teeth working ferociously. It was a fruitless attempt. The rope remained strong and steady as the panting banker shrunk back into the creaky chair.
Without warning, the murderer stepped back in, a child hanging from his fingers.
Her face was covered in chocolate, a lollipop stuck out of her pocket as her hair fell loosely over her shoulders. Her eyes were bloodshot and her whole body shook with fear.
“ Last Chance” he growled, now pointing to Mr Brown’s very own daughter, Kacey.
“Kacey, is it you?”
Mr Brown let the faint soft sound escape his mouth as his eyes filled with tears he couldn’t fight back.
Why? Why did you choose this door? Didn’t mum tell you to stay in the neighbourhood?
“Take it!” the banker said thrusting his hand out and turning his head way.
The man grabbed it, pushed Kacey to the side and released Mr Brown. Then he scampered out of the house, a wicked look glinting through his cracked glasses.
Kacey’s Dad reached out for his daughter and he began to sob. Not now, he thought. Scooping Kacey up into his arms he grabbed his wallet. After picking his way through the large mansion, he found the door and finally escaped.
The cold Halloween air hit his red cheeks. Kacey, now in a deep sleep, stirred in her father’s arms. Mr Brown frantically searched for a sign to show where he was.
The van had been designed with no windows and a strong door. So, when Mr Brown had been smuggled in, coffee still in hand, there had been no sign of time passing. He didn’t know if it was day or night and he had had no idea where he was.
Now, as he stood rooted to a crumbly pavement, his eyes wandered. He noticed the screaming children and the smell of rotten sweets and eggs. He noticed the scary costumes and the plump pumpkins. And then he noticed the banner ‘13 cemetery lane’ engraved into the house door.
Before making another move, the forest, which had just become apparent now, jumped to life with voices and footsteps coming closer and closer.
Mr Brown did the next logical thing.
He ran. He ran knowing Kacey was still in his arms. He ran knowing that if he didn’t, he’d die. He ran knowing that he wasn’t safe. He ran knowing he was running for his life.
There was no time for shoe laces, excuse me’s or crossing the road safely. Mr Brown tore across the streets, his shoes slapping against the hard concrete. He begged his legs to go further, his body to move faster. But he was tired, hungry and Kacey’s weight was no help. He knew stopping for a breath wasn’t an option, so he turned the next corner and never looked back…
Hope you enjoyed that little piece! All votes are appreciated so be sure to vote for your favourite real soon! Thanks for reading!!