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Tag Archives: very short fiction

October News & Updates

14 Friday Oct 2016

Posted by crashdlanding in News, Non-Fiction

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crash landing crashdlanding, fiction me this, If Words Could Kill, iwick, news, october, scary stories, updates, very short fiction


I meant to do this a lot sooner, but illness, motherhood, and all manner of life postponed it. So, here we are. 

Scary Story

My goal is to write at least one scary story this month. And seeing as how it’s October, I’ve got great timing. According to Facebook, the things that scare people (my friends, mostly, not many others like my page) are: 

  • Spiders
  • Clowns
  • Ghosts
  • General “King-esq” creepy stuff

I also had a request for a vampire story. So I’m thinking a vote? A “like this picture” thing. So if you want to help choose the scary story, look for the opportunity in the next few days on the Crash Landing Facebook page. 

Bring Back the Fiction!


Come November I hope to bring back on of my previous features. Either Very Short Fiction, Fiction Me This, or If Words Could Kill. But I need help deciding. 

Fiction Me This: send me pictures and I’ll choose one (or have readers vote) and write a story about it. 

If Words Could Kill: like a picture and the “victim” will be randomly selected for their own fictional murder. 

Very Short Fiction: randomly selected person chosen to have their own story (not necessarily death). 

Good Cause

I plan to try and start a “Good Causes” feature. When you’re trying to get the word out, a signal boost is always good, no matter how small the signal. Thai tiny blog of mine doesn’t get a wide range, but given the right hashtag, we can get some attention. 

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VSF: “Rapid” – Renae Rife

08 Thursday Sep 2016

Posted by crashdlanding in Fiction, My Writing, Very Short Fiction

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crashdlanding fiction., dcrash landing, rapid, very short fiction

Very Short Fiction: Renae Rife “Rapid”

“Come on, it’ll be an adventure!” Her husband’s uncle had said. “Let’s go river rafting!” Renae was apprehensive at first, but convinced herself she needed to do something, besides work. Her job was stressful and frustrating and lately it’d started to seem like all she did was work. So she let her in-laws convince her to go rafting down a river. She’d never done it before, so maybe it would be an adventure.

Ryan wasn’t thrilled either, but he shrugged off his apprehension just as his wife did, and they all went along for the ride.

The morning of was bright and clear as they packed up and headed out early. It was already promising to be a hot day. “But, hey,” Renae thought, “We’re going to be on the river, so, not so bad, I guess.”

Trying not to think of the dangers on the way down, Renae distracted herself by texting friends and snap chatting selfies to her followers.

Finally arriving, they pulled into the parking lot next to Ryan’s uncle’s vehicle, and they began unloading. The park was beautiful with summer’s beauty and bright sunshine. The sweat was beginning to bead on Renae’s forehead from the heat and nerves, as she looked around at the setting.

Within the hour they were all packed and checked into their rooms in the motel and they were preparing for their trip down river. The unloading of the canoes and equipment took less time than Renae expected—she was in absolutely no rush—but she was hopeful for good things.

They all pulled on life vests and climbed into precarious seating. They pushed off the bank and soon began a slow cruise down river.

A gentle breeze was rustling the leaves of the trees and birds sang out to them as they paddled their way down the lazy river. Renae was beginning to enjoy the scenery, wishing she’d been able to bring her phone to take pictures, but she remembered she didn’t want a water logged smartphone.

After a half an hour, the heat and sun seemed to grow stronger, bearing down on them. “Why did I not bring sunscreen?” She said aloud.

“I don’t know,” Ryan responded as he continued to paddle.

“Yeah yeah, you’ll burn too.” She told him.

They had been barely a few yards behind her in-laws when she realized that she didn’t see them. Ryan noticed it too, and saw that she was worried as well.

“They’re probably just a little faster than us, is all. I’m sure everything’s fine.” He didn’t sound convinced to her.

Almost immediately the river began to get rougher, rockier. “Whoa!” Ryan shouted as he padded to avoid a boulder in their path. Renae saw and tried to help correct as she paddled, but their turn was short, and the rear of the canoe smacked against it, rocking the vessel.

They shifted their weight just enough to compensate, righting themselves before it capsized.

“This is definitely not fun anymore!” Renae shouted.

“It’s okay,” Ryan reassured her, “we’ll be out soon, I think.”

“You THINK?!”

“Just calm down. We will be okay.”

She paused, took a deep breath. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. “Okay.” She said finally.

The continued to navigate the ever rougher river, as they began to move quicker and quicker. Boulders, fallen logs, and other debris made the going harder as they attempted to find their way back to civilization and family. Renae’s grip on the paddle tightened as they worked together to swerve and dodge the obstacles in their path. Neither spoke as they focused on staying upright.

After what seemed like forever in rough waters and focused silence, the came around a bend in the river. Ryan spoke up.

“Oh man,” Renae barely heard him over the sound of the rushing water. “Is that what I think it is?”

“What?” Renae asked. When she saw what he was seeing, a heavy mist rising up from the water ahead, where the water seemed to end. “It’s a waterfall!” Renae called out. “What do we do?!”

“Maybe it’s not to high,” he theorized. “Paddle backward,” he instructed her. “We need to try to slow down!” They were shouting now, as the sound of the waterfall was getting louder as they neared.

They paddled backward, against the natural flow of the river, fighting against the flow to try to slow down. The closer they got, the harder they had to work their aching muscles to force their watercraft to slow down.

As they fought they watched the tip of the canoe proceed toward the edge of the drop off. Ryan saw first how far they’d fall, and he shouted, “HOLD YOUR BREATH!” And suddenly, against their will, the canoe tipped and gravity took over. They tumbled over the edge, Renae held her breath as instructed, lost her grip on the paddle, and closed her eyes.

Unable to watch her decent she was unsure how far she fell when she felt herself hit the surface of the water at the base of the fall. She sank like a rock into the river and felt a sharp pain as the whole right side of her body slammed into the river bed, causing her to release her breath. She gained her footing under water and pushed herself up to the surface.

When she felt air on her face, she took a deep breath, then began frantically searching the surface for signs of her husband. Having difficulty staying afloat in the quickly moving river, she looked for the nearest riverbank and swam across. Crawling out of the water and stumbling onto the bank, she stopped long enough to catch her breath, then began her search again.

Renae looked around the river, called his name, walked the bank along the rushing river, but saw no sign of Ryan. Afraid for his life, soaked to the bone, and alone, she began to shiver. There was no sign of her husband, no sign of where his family might of gone, she was alone, and she had no idea where along the river she was. She had no phone, so no way of contacting anyone, or finding her way out.

She fell to the soggy, rocky river bank, tears beginning to form in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around her shivering body, and began, unconsciously, to rock. Then suddenly she stopped. “Wait.” She said, to no one in particular.

“I’ve dealt with every kind of angry customer there is.” She told herself. “I’ve counted thousands of dollars of someone else’s money and was strong enough to not want to take any.” She stated to the trees. “I’ve fought with management, disrespectful cashiers, I’ve managed the front end on Black Friday,” she paused. “I’ve put up with my husband for a while now!” She stood herself up and threw off the sopping life jacket. “I got this!”

Pep talk over, she stood silent to think. “All I have to do is follow the river.” She paused. “Maybe Ryan made it, went on and found a his way out. All I have to do is follow the river and I’ll find my way out.”

She turned to walk in the direction the river flowed, but turned to look back, searching the surface, the opposite bank, for signs of her Ryan or the canoe. She saw nothing, but was still afraid that she might leave him behind.

“Would he move on without me?” She asked herself. “Or would he get to safety so he could find help?”

“No! I refuse to believe something bad happened to him.” She paused, “besides going on this STUPID TRIP!” She turned and started walking.

After a half an hour in the heat of the summer day, her clothes were completely dry and she was no longer shivering but sweating instead. She fanned herself with her hand, wishing a breeze would blow in off the river to cool her. Stopping to catch her breath, she looked into the sky, and saw that the sun was beginning to set. Soon it would be dark, and she would likely not be able to see the river. “I’ll have to stop, and find a place to rest.” Trying not to get nervous about being stuck in the woods alone, overnight, she turned to venture into the woods, away from the river, searching for a safe place it rest.

Being sure to keep her back to the river—in order to find it easier come morning—she walked a few yards away from the river, soon finding a fallen tree with bushes growing around it. It appeared to be as good a place as any to rest, hoping the bushes would be good cover, with the log as a good place to lean. She sat facing the river, she could see the light of the setting sun glinting off its bubbling reflective surface.

It seemed to very quickly grow dark, once Renae had found her resting place. It became hard to see the river, with no light reflecting off its surface—the sun had set below the tree line. And with the growing darkness came the sounds of nighttime creatures waking up to venture out for food. She’d spent time outdoors before, had even gone camping. But she’d never been alone, and never in unfamiliar woods. What lay in the dark, waiting for her to let her guard down? What creatures of the night would walk, stalk, or slither into her path, into her hiding place? Renae pushed the thought aside and tried to focus on the morning and what would come.

Determined to stay awake and alert, she tried to think of something that would distract her. Something that wouldn’t stress her or upset her, but take her mind off the situation at hand. For the first time in her life, no songs were stuck in her head. She couldn’t remember the plot of the last episode of her favorite show she’d watched. The only thing that came to mind was, “I wonder how busy it is at work right now?” She’d agreed to the trip to get away from work. But here she was stuck in the woods after nearly drowning wondering what was happening there.

Though annoyed that all she could think of was work, doing so was a much more soothing idea than focusing on the ever encroaching darkness and the mysteries it would bring to her. After a moment she pulled her legs in close, wrapped her arms around her knees and bundled herself against the fallen log, stealing herself against what lay in the dark.

Despite herself, and the effort she’d made to stay awake, the stress of the day, the fear she’d felt, and the anxiety of the unknown began to wear in her. She felt herself nodding off, unable to keep her eyes open. Laying her head back against the log, she looked up, for the first time since before the sun had set, and there she saw the stars. Bright and shining in the night.

Renae wondered about them, pondering how far away they might be, how long it took their light to reach her eyes. Without realizing, she’d lulled herself into a doze, unburdened and unaware of her surroundings.

That was until a distant howling startled her awake. It cut off before she’d fully awoken, before she remembered where she was. She didn’t know whether it was near or far. She waited for a second howl, hoping it was further than her frightened mind was telling her.

The second howl came, piercing and desperate in the night, scarier in the darkness, even more so because it sounded so near.

“Please God, please.” She prayed in silence. “Please let me survive the night!” Tears threatened to slip free, but she blinked them back. “Now was not a time to cry”, she told herself. She tried to steady her breathing, stay perfectly still and silent, calm her racing heart and mind.

With no watch to tell the time, no flashlight to see, she had no way of knowing how long she had until daylight. No way of knowing if help was on the way, or which direction to move, she knew she had to stay where she was despite what might lurk in the night. She had better chances of finding her way out of help when the sun was up. But how much longer would she have to wait?

Renae began to feel beside her, quietly and calmly. Patting the ground where she sat, along the fallen long. She finally stopped, finding what she was looking for, or as close too it as she could manage, without walking away. A small rock, about the size of her palm. It had a point, not very sharp, but useful in need. She wrapped her fingers around it, with the point out, imagining herself slugging some wild vicious animal over the head. Or Ryan, if he’d lived and not come looking for her.

With some sense of security, she laid her head back once more, clinging tightly to the rock, and closed her eyes.

Her sleep was fitful and frustrating. It seemed every time she’d doze off, some noise—a hooting owl, rustling leaves, a broken branch—startled her awake. She raise and brandish the rock, as if it’s scare her would be attacker off. She’d look into the darkness, see nothing, then close her eyes once more.

Finally, after what seemed like a millennia, she woke once more, startled buy something, only to find the still dim light of a rising sun, resting on a doe, a few yards away from where Renae sat. She watched the deer nibble on some grass for some time before she realized it was finally daylight.

With a sigh of relief, she pulled herself up off the ground, legs and back and neck stiffer than she’d ever felt. She looked directly forward, and saw the shimmering water of the river. She was both relieved and dismayed, knowing she’d once again have to be at its side.

Walking walking, always walking. She moved along the river’s path following the trail it had cut for itself over centuries of flow. The sun beat down on her head just as it had the day before. After hours of travel she wondered if she’d ever find the river’s end and civilization.

Though growing weary and tired she continued on, enduring the heat and frustration as she made her way, step by step. She dodged trees and thorny bramble as she picked her way along the sandy banks, broken rocks, and crumbling dirt. More than a few times, she miss stepped, plunging ankle deep in the surprisingly cold waters.

She soon grew hungry, no longer able to distract herself from her growling stomach. Weary worn mind and body began to grow heavy and weak, eventually pulling her down into a slump, at the base of a long dead, though still standing tree.

“I’ll stop here,” Renae told herself. “I’ll read a while, then try to find some food.” She gazed at the river, angry at the beauty of its glistening flowing waters. She knew there were fish there, lurking beneath the surface. But she had nothing with which to catch them. She had nothing at all. When she realized she was glaring at a river she thought, “I must be going crazy.” She told herself, looking into the sky, away from the water. “It’s just a river, it can’t be blamed for my situation.”

“But who could?” She thought.

That’s when she heard it. At first she thought she really was going nuts. There was no way she could hear voices. Unless the devious river was babbling through its rapid rush. But she stopped thinking, and listened.

It want just voices she heard. Dogs were barking, the sound of an engine starting. And the oh-so-familiar sound of a Walkie, with a rattling voice speaking commands.

At first she shook her head, disbelief clouding her confused mind. “It couldn’t be.” When the glorious sounds of civilization didn’t retreat into the fog of her brain, she burst into tears of relief, so overcome with happiness she could only cry.

The tears continued to flow, though she was finally able to summon the strength to stand. She pulled herself up with the aid of a tree, swaying as her tired legs regained feeling. Once upright, she slowly made her way to salvation, safety, and, hopefully, food. Ignoring the river now, focusing only on the noise of rescue, she pushed herself forward. “You’ve made it Renae.” She told herself. “It’s almost over.”

When she finally made it out of the trees into what appeared to be a parking lot at a ranger’s station, she called out, as loud as her tired aching body could stand. The effort took her last ounce of strength and she fell to her knees.

People swarmed around her with questions, checking her vitals, offering her water. They helped her into a stretcher, and she was about to be loaded onto an ambulance.

“Where is my husband? Did he make it?” She asked in a strained whisper.

“I’m here!” She heard him call out. He pushed his way through the crowd to her side.

She turned her head slowly to look at him. Then, in a blink of an eye, with energy field by rage, she began to hit him over in over. Ryan help his arms up to shield himself from her blows as she shouted at him. “You’re here?! Of course you are! Why didn’t you look for me?! Where have you been?! Do you know what I’ve been through?!”

She stopped the spousal abuse, sighed tiredly, then fell back on the stretcher once more.

“Well okay. We won’t go canoeing on the river again, then.”

“You bet your skinny tail we won’t.” She said under her breath. “I’d rather be at Walmart.”

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Unfinished Business: A VSF Tale

27 Wednesday Jul 2016

Posted by crashdlanding in Friendship, Non-Fiction, Unfinished Business, Very Short Fiction

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crash landing, crashdlanding, friends, Unfinished Business, very short fiction

Some of my readers may remember when I was doing a feature called “Very Short Fiction” a few years ago. I stopped running the series because I was working on a story and happened to write myself into a hole. 

I’ve done this quite a few times since I’ve been writing, and it often happens with ideas I’ve fallen in love with. With the “Very Short Fiction” series, the stories were dedicated to, inspired by, and starring actual people–friends. So  getting stuck feels even worse. 

I’ve never forgotten about the unfinished “VSF” and it haunts me to this day. 

But now I have an idea. And since I’m at a pause in “Black Pines” I think I’ll start writing on this new  story idea. 

So, to Renae, I’m sorry I forgot you, thank you for loving Black Friday and wanting to share it with the world, and I promise I’ll make it up to you.

 I also already have a title: “Rapids”. I’ll get to writing and post as soon as I am able. 

 As always, thanks for reading. 

-c

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VERY SHORT FICTION: “The House”

07 Tuesday Apr 2015

Posted by crashdlanding in Very Short Fiction

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"The House", fiction, very short fiction

My apologes for not doing all the things I’ve said I would do. Someday my tiny human will be very disappointed in me. For now, I have to deal with you folks. Here’s something I’ve taken forever to finish. Enjoy. –

Curiosity. That was the soul reason why she agreed to housesit. She liked scary movies, she kept telling herself, so this should be no big deal. But then those were movies. This, on the other hand, was something else entirely. 

The house had stood in the neighborhood for as long as Jennifer Wilson could remember. During her childhood its grounds had been the setting for many nightmares. When she passed by it, she was always afraid to look too long. Now an adult, it was just an interesting, if not foreboding, presence. She had often found herself wondering about it’s past. 

For decades it had stood empty. Even the neighborhood strays tended to avoid the property. Children were scared of it, teenaged boys with nothing better to do than make mischief dared each other to enter, despite or in spite of the “NO TRESPASSING signs. But just a few months before, a mysterious stranger came to town bearing proof of ownership of the house and the land it stood on. Within weeks, an ad was placed in the local newspaper for a caretaker. 

The ad simply requested that someone stay in the home to discourage trespassers and such. It required that the hired help stay overnight in the house, but come daylight, the individual was free to leave. The contract also stated, “No guests after dark.” Jennifer thought that somehow, there wouldn’t be a problem with that. 

She didn’t tell anyone when she inquired about the position, she told only a few when she actually applied. She only told her immediate family that she’d gotten the job. Her mother didn’t like the idea, and made sure her daughter promised to keep her cell on her person and turned on at all times. 

This was her first night in the place. Inside it seemed more well kept than she’d imagined, and aside from being a little drafty, it was fine. And, you know, the creepy part. 

It wasn’t quite dark yet, the sun was still lingering above the horizon, and the red orange glow of late afternoon oozed in through the dusty window panes. The owner’s representative, whom she’d met a few days prior to get the keys, had said she need do nothing to the house but sit inside it. But Jennifer was now wishing she had some glass cleaner and some paper towels. Or maybe some industrial strength cleaner and a scraper. 

Giving herself a tour of the massive estate, Jennifer quickly realized that she should have left a trail of bread crumbs to find her way back to the front door. The house was indeed as huge as it appeared, and it seemed to have had additions upon additions when it was still being lived in. 

She’d started by heading upstairs, finding massive suites. These bedrooms had sitting rooms in their sitting rooms. Jennifer counted at least four of the suites, and hadn’t reached the back of the house yet.

Turning a corner twenty minutes and what felt like two miles into her tour, she found a second staircase, leading back down and up. Deciding it was time to see what’s downstairs in this branch of the house, she turned toward the steps leading that way, when she heard a creak. She stopped in her tracks, telling herself it had likely been her. Looking behind her, she saw nothing, and went back to her chosen path. But instead of continuing on, she took a deep breath and turned to look up the stairs to the third floor.

As she turned her head, and just as her eyes began to adjust to the darkness that shrouded the top of the stairs she thought she saw something move.

Logic would tell some people to just turn around, go back downstairs where there was light and where your mind would not play tricks on you. Curiosity would tell other people to wonder. Straight up madness tells a few others to actually investigate. Decades of scary movies should have told Jennifer Wilson, “this is where the killer jumps out at you with a machete”.

But decades of scary movies have desensitized Jennifer. She pulled out her handy-dandy cell phone and turned on the flashlight function. Pointing it to the stairs, she shined the light up the staircase and swept it around the area. 

“Well, couldn’t have seen anything,” she thought. “It’s just a closed door.” At this point, any other person would have turned around and gone back downstairs. Jennifer is not any other person. Jennifer is curious. 

The steps leading up to the door creaked, the same creak she’d heard moments before. Pushing this thought aside, she stepped up to the landing, and reached for the knob of the door, and turned it. The door wouldn’t open. “Must be locked.” Looking at the knob, it seemed to have an old fashioned skeleton key lock. She thought of turning around and heading downstairs, she was beginning to get hungry, and she was sure her mysterious boss wouldn’t appreciate a snooping stranger.

But instead of heading down, she tried the knob once more. “It’s probably just the attic,” she tried to tell herself, tried to convince herself to turn right around and give up. “It’s locked for a reason.” After another try, getting frustrated, she said, “Fine!” aloud, and turned around.

The set of stairs she took led her to another door, this time not locked, that opened into a pantry, servants stairs, she assumed. The pantry led her into the kitchen, which she’d seen earlier. She had placed a bag of food her mother had sent her with in the retro refrigerator earlier that afternoon. This is what she grabbed when she entered the kitchen. 

She spread out a cloth on the dusty table and put together her meal, which consisted of vegetables and dip, sandwiches and chips. No way to heat anything in the house yet. As she ate, she contemplated the door. She had a friend who collected skeleton keys for some reason. If she had the right one… 

”Don’t be ridiculous,” she told herself. “It’s just a door.” A closed door, closed to her. In a big empty house that hasn’t been lived in for as long as she could remember, at least. She really wanted to know what was up there. She continued to eat, barely registering the food she put in her mouth, thinking about that door.

When she finished she quickly threw her leftovers back in the bag and tossed them in the fridge. Then she began to rifle through the drawers. Trying to ignore how silly it seemed to be that anyone would just throw a key to a locked door in a drawer in the kitchen, she looked though each drawer, coming across cooking utensils, candles and matches, a few rodent droppings and some dried out cockroach carcasses. Before she opened the final drawer, she told herself, “If I don’t find what I’m looking for in here, I’ll stop.” She sighed, as if to psych herself for defeat, and pulled on the drawer handle.

The face of the drawer came with the handle, just not the rest of the drawer, she reached in, slid the rest of the drawer out, and searched though the few objects that had been left in what appeared to have been a junk drawer that had seen better days. 

Amidst the old bottle caps, empty glass vials, and what she hoped were lose seeds, there it was, a tiny, tarnished silver skeleton key. She held it up to the fading light from the kitchen window and resisted the urge to do a happy dance. 

Moments later she was climbing the stairs once again. At the second floor landing, she turned on the cell phone flashlight, and shined it in the direction of her destination. This time, however, the light from the phone did not land on a door. It seemed to land on nothing. It reached as far as it could and gave up. She looked at the key in her hand and thought not how odd it was that the door had opened on its own, but instead how crazy she must have looked riffling through drawers. 

She climbed the stairs once more, this time noticing how they didn’t creak as they had before. Still shining her light into the distance, she reached the landing where the door had once blocked her way. 

Touching the previously locked door handle as she passed through, she slowly ventured into the darkness. 

When she crossed threshold she swept the bright light across the room. It shined briefly on a white object that seemed to dart away once the light touched it. Floorboards creaked across the room as the not insubstantial weight moved quickly along them. 

Trying not to look as addled as she felt, though she was alone,  Jennifer continued to light portions of the obviously large room. Advancing slowly and stepping gingerly to make as little noise as possible, she walked in the direction of the mysterious movement. She allowed herself no thoughts or assumptions of what it may or may not have been. 

Following the line of the wall, she advanced slowly, keeping as much solid surface to her back as possible. The last thing she wanted was to be snuck up on. Whatever it had been, imagination or not, there was no more movement, no other noise save from the pounding of her own heart in her ears. 

She came across numerous crates and boxes and chests, begging to be explored. She’d do it another day. If she didn’t pay enough attention to her surroundings she would trip over the stored items. She  thought of the possibility of tripping and injuring herself badly, leaving her to be found after the thing in white had gotten to her. 

“That is enough of that kind of thinking, Jennifer.” She thought. “Better yet, don’t think at all.” 

After what seemed forever in the cold darkness, she came to a corner. She shined the light in the area, putting her back to the perpendicular joint in the walls. The light of her cell phone flashlight landed in something much to unexpected. A small bed. 

The tiny metal frame sported a thin stained mattress that was barely covered by a stained and well worn blanket and pillow. “Of all the rooms in this house, why is there a bed here?” She thought, and moved closer for further inspection. She knew she’d gotten much too close when the smell engulfed her. 

A putrid rotten ammonia scent permeated the bed and its surrounding area. The smell made the air in that space heavy like the air on a humid, balmy July day, hard to breathe. Seeking a window and with it access to the fresh night air, Jennifer stepped away from the bed and once again swept the room with her flashlight beam. When she stepped forward something crunched beneath her shoe. Aiming the light down, it revealed what seems to be a partially intact rodent skeleton. 

Jennifer shuddered in disgust, trying not to picture the implication of the skeleton within reach of the bedside. Instead of contemplating the meaning, she proceeded in the search for a window. Sending the light in a quick wide arch around her body, the light passed over the opposite side of the room from where she stood. 

Then, gone just as quickly as she’d revealed it, she saw what must have been the white flash that had moved across the room before. Though it was gone by the time she’d went back in its direction it appeared to be… A face. A pale white face with a thundercloud of grey hair around her face and head. 

A sharp intake of breath into her lungs, she nearly released it in the form of a scream. She quickly darted the light back to where the face had seemed to float in mid air. She saw nothing, but knew it’d been something, for she once again heard the sound of what she assumed was feet racing across the expanse of the darkened attic. 

That was enough for her. Instead of continuing the search, Jennifer had had enough. She turned back they way she came and headed in search of the exit. Keeping along the wall she walked as quickly as the cluttered darkness would allow, attempting to aim the light at the path ahead of her. 

The creak of the floorboards matched the rapid movement of her own feet around the room, all sound she heard was hers. Feeling as though she’d neared the place where the door opened onto the landing she lifted the light and pointed it at the wall. Seeing the open door just a few yards in front of her she sighed, relieved to be getting away. 

Jennifer shined the light on the open door and focused on her exit. She picked up speed as she neared, but within a few feet the door slammed closed with a sound that reverberated through the deteriorating attic walls. Behind the door stood the figure with the pale face. 

Surprised, Jennifer stopped suddenly, skidding and stumbling backwards. She dropped the phone when she hit the floor, head smacking the rickety wooden floorboards. She groaned, touching gently the tender spot where her head had hit, she groaned again, and opened her eyes. 

When she looked around her phone was several feet away, the light shining uselessly to the ceiling. She groaned again as she stood, painfully, intending to go for her phone. 

Before she could reach it, the frightening figure from before appeared suddenly before her and she called out in surprise. 

“Where are you going, Jennifer?” it whispered. “You can’t leave. You’re our caretaker now.” 

Shocked, with fear making her legs weak, she backed away slowly as the figure advanced. Stumbling once more over bowed and broken floorboards, she turned for only a brief moment. When she looked back, not one but two figures, both with a similar ghostly pallor, stood before her, keeping pace as she backed away. 

“You have to take care of us now,” they whispered in unison. “You’re our caretaker.” 

“No,” she finally managed to utter, “no, please!” She turned to run once again, but she was surrounded by figures, pale, demanding she stay. 

From the corner of her eye she saw the light from her phone. “If I could just reach it.” She thought, believing, hoping, salvation rested in it cold flat form. She sidestepped closer to it, attempting to avoid the figures once more. Somehow they got closer, brushing against her with icy fingers. 

Shivering, she moved toward the light, ever in her periphery. Trying to keep her eyes on the growing mob while trying to move for her phone, she made a large step toward its estimated location. 

Jennifer felt her foot touch something, but before she realized it, she felt and heard the crunch of her phone under her foot, as the light it shined was snuffed. 

In fear and despair, she moaned and fell to her knees. She reached for the shattered remains of her cellphone as she felt the icy grip of many hands close around her. 

The sun rose vibrantly on another beautiful summer morning. It penetrated the once dusty windows of a cold and long abandoned house. It warned the rooms and brought life back into a once dead home. 

THE END

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