“I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.”
H.P. Lovecraft, The Outsider

Her footsteps echoed through the empty halls as she walked with false confidence, towards the meeting place. The wind whistling around her as it came through the abandoned high schools windows.

She had graduated from the very same high school fifteen years earlier when it was beautiful and relatively new. Being back raised memories in her she would rather forget but she wasn’t able to. She knew it was a bad idea to come back but she had no choice.

He had forced her to go back there, he knew what it would do to her but he did it anyway. The blood stained floor echoed the horrific memories that replayed in her head.

As she neared the gym her stomach threatened to empty its meagre contents as she recalled the screams she heard when she was in there. The scars from that day began to throb and became sore, almost like they feared of being reopened.

She was livid and scared. He had brought her to the location of what should have been the best day of her life but she became the worst when three of her fellow high school students began shooting out of anger because they were not able to graduate.

She had been shot twice; both gunshot wounds barely missed her major blood vessels. She was lucky but two hundred others were not so lucky. A mixture of parents, teachers, students and past graduates had lost their lives, another hundred or so were wounded and scared.

Something felt wrong to her. Why would he lure her there? Why would he use her daughter as leverage to bring her back to the now derelict town and the heart of the town’s demise?

She pushed open the heavy doors and came face to face with another horrific sight. Laid on the floor was the broken form of the man she was there to meet. She quickly, quietly walked towards the man who had tormented her for years.

She reached down and checked his pulse, he was cold and wet. Bringing her fingers to her face she could see the red sticky liquid that coated them. “Eww!” She groaned as she wiped it on her leg.

She looked around and saw the dried red puddles. Another reminder of that horrific day that was so vivid in her mind.

No one had entered the school since the criminal investigation had ended. No one cleaned up. No one wanted to see the blood.

The gym was suddenly filled with the haunting score from the original Friday 13th. She jumped, filled with panic.

She fiddled and pulled out the cell phone. The screen showed her best friends face. Her best friend had stayed at her house in case her little girl returned home.

Clicking accept she was welcomed by the calming tones of her friend.

“Jodie, she’s here, she’s home, she’s safe.”

“What? Really? She’s home?” Jodie gasped her voice shaky.

“Yeah? Is he there? Get out of there. It’s a trap.” Her friends chanted, fear thick in her voice. “I’ll call the cops and call you back.” She exclaimed and the line went dead.

“Jodie!” Called a voice, deep, chesty and gravelly. Chill travelled down her spine, Goose bumps spread over her blemish free skin. “Jodie, you came.” It whispered.

She could not pin point where it came from. It seemed to echo around her. “You don’t remember me, do you?” The voice teased. Her breath hitched. Her hands shaking as she stuffed it back in her pocket. “I’m not surprised, you were always too busy.”

She looked around but she could barely see. Jake, her little girl’s dad, lay dead at her feet at the only part of the room with light. Everywhere else was pitch black.

She reached for her phone and with shaky hands. She fumbled to unlock it, to switch on the flashlight app and cursed as she, in her panic, put her lock code in wrong and locked her phone, she couldn’t access anything. “Fuck!” She screamed in frustration.

“Now, now, now Jodie, that’s not very lady like.” The low echoed around the hall.

“Who…”

“You were always perfect. You were always so lucky. Everyone thought you were perfect. They know nothing. Even now, around others, your act perfect but alone you are evil.” Came a whisper from right behind her.

She suddenly felt like she was in the silence of the lambs where she couldn’t she but the other person can and it unsettled.

“Just answer my question, who are you?” She whispered back, her voice shaking with fear.

“You already know! You already know!”

She was shaking with fear as the panic wrapped its cold hand around her heart. “No, I don’t!” She spat back.

“Yes you do.” His voice was louder and filled with anger.

She jumped as she felt a cold wet hand wrap around her throat that snaked around her neck and squeezed, lifting her off the ground.

Her legs kicked as he moved her into the beam of light and above her ex’s body showing his face. As she was gasping for breath her eyes widened in recognition as her attackers face became illuminated by the beam. “Fuck.” She muttered while struggling for breath.

As she started to lose consciousness she came to face to face with the man she thought was dead, the man she thought was long gone; the man who was her first love and the man responsible for the school shooting that wounded her. She remembered watching him shoot himself and dying right in front of her.

It did not make any sense it confused her. Her world turned black as she lost consciousness as he restricted her breathing, she wondered if it was the end as everything turned black.

This tale is pulling me closer to it and maybe, just maybe, turn into something more.

Let me know what you think.

Happy Writing

Simone

alone poster

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