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Eyes, Snow, Guilt

by Spencer W 2 months ago in Short Story
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A Three-Word Prompt Story

It was cold. Very, very cold. My feet were numb, and the only thing I had to keep me warm was a cloak I’d taken from my mother’s wardrobe. I didn’t think rationally. I didn’t think about now. I just needed to escape… To run. So that’s what I did.

I didn’t feel the need to run now. I just walked. Left alone with my thoughts, with the sound of my heart racing. For the first time since I got through the door, I stopped. I felt eyes on me. I turned, looking around. If there were eyes out there, they closed immediately. I began to walk again.

“It’s all your fault.” Echoed in my mind. “What did you do?”

I tried to keep the thoughts from my head. I tried to ignore them.

“How could you?”

“You’re going to regret this.”

“You’re going to Die.”

I refused to stop. I felt the eyes on me again, but I couldn’t stop. It felt like years before I finally found a cabin. It appeared to be abandoned. I ran inside, quickly closing the door, before shedding the cloak and dusting the snow off its fabric. I put it on the rusted hook beside the door, and hobbled to a closet. I needed a blanket.

I opened the closet, and a swarm of moths flew out. I fell back and landed on my backside. Did I yell? Did I shout? I can’t remember. Once the moths were gone, though, I grabbed a couple of blankets and sat on the large sofa in the middle of the room. There was no firewood- if there was, it was eaten away by termites- so all I could do was stare at the fireplace. Strangely, imagining a large, warm fire made me feel warmer.

I blinked. The fireplace had roared, before a large fire sparked. The three logs in the fireplace lit ablaze, making me reel back. I was surprised, I looked around. The cabin changed entirely… Things were no longer askew, everything was polished and new. Even the previously moth-eaten blankets were nice, and fresh. I heard a voice.

“The guest is feeling ill, Mary. We should let her rest.”

The voice made my blood run cold. I sat up, trying to get to my feet. The numbness spread to my knees. I collapsed to the floor. I heard a door slam open and a male with dark hair grabbed my arm. He helped me to my feet.

“You shouldn’t try to stand, dear.”

I looked up at him, terrified. His eyes… Something unnatural about them. Their shade of blue was like ice, they seemed to glow. His gaze was like a nightmare. When he smiled, I felt fear for my life.

“Sit back down, please. I’ll get you tea.”

He sat me down and walked away. I shifted to watch him leave. Was I trapped here? Maybe I could walk again. While he was gone. I waited a moment after he vanished before I stood again. This time, I used furniture and walls to help me get to the front door. I opened it and fell out.

It was still snowing. I moved to sit, staring up at the cabin. It looked abandoned again. There was no fire, no polishing. I still saw my cloak hanging on the rusted hook. What the fuck just happened?

I moved back, my vision beginning to blur. I felt somebody behind me. I looked up, those icy eyes staring down at me. His face was thinner, greyer. He looked mummified.

“Hello again, kiddo.”



“Mary, it was one time! Please, look at me!”

“One time? One time? I can’t believe you right now!”


I flinched. I didn’t like when Mother and Father fought. I especially hated it when she brought her hand to him. She did it again. I heard her palm against his cheek. Father always waited to resolve things after Mother had a great day thinking that her mood would make it easier. I saw Father slump out of the kitchen, moving to the sofa and sitting. He looked up at me, smiling.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“I’m nineteen.”

He scoffed, shaking his head and leaning back. He always made it about himself. ‘Oh, why don’t you talk to me?’ or ‘What’s with that tone?’ I admit I never much liked Father, but Mother wasn’t much better either. They fed off each other, whether that was for better or worse.

He turned on the television, immediately turning the channel to football. I stood, going up the stairs. I had just intended to read for a bit. The book I was reading was one of my favorites. I never cared for the title much, it was never on the front covers. It was a crime-romance. An author- how ironic- fell in love with a detective she worked with. They solved crimes together, and saved each other many times. It was good because the lesbian romance wasn’t overly sexual, it focused on the relationships.

However, I didn’t end up reading much.

“Kill them.”

“Put them out of their misery.”

I blacked out. I only remember screaming, someone begging me to stop. I remember a sort of brightness, and extreme heat. When my vision came back to me, I was running.

“I have to lose them.”


His smile nearly made me vomit. He bent down, locking eyes with me. Out of the corners of my vision I could see hundreds of eyes staring at me. They weren’t even attached to heads, they just floated there in the darkness. Was this a dream? Please tell me I’m dreaming.

“Tsk, tsk.” He scoffed, grinning wider. Inhumanly wide.

I tried to move, but I couldn’t. My body was frozen. It had to be some kind of spell, right? Or was it just terror?

He reached a hand down, his boney fingers moving my hair. He said nothing, two of his fingers moved to hover over my eyes.

“Welcome home, Elizabeth.”

I knew what happened. My vision went dark and pain shot through my face and head. I screamed, trying to put my hands on my face, but I still couldn’t move.

It was dark, even as I felt soft hands hold me.

“You poor soul.” A soft, feminine voice spoke above me.

“Please...” I choked out.

“What did you do?” She asked gently.

“I didn’t do anything.” I sobbed.


I felt teeth rip into my neck. I yelled, sobbing harder. At this point, I already knew that I was in Hell. I only had my imagination, and my ears. I was blinded.


“Elizabeth? Elizabeth!”

“I’m sorry Ma’am, you can’t be here.”

“Can’t be here? Do you know who the fuck I am!? My name is Officer Samantha Anderson!”

“Oh, Officer, I apologize.”

“Elizabeth? Elizabeth, oh my god!”

“Sam? What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at the—”

“That’s my fiancee! Why didn't anyone tell me?”

“We have reason to believe she killed her parents.”

“No! My Elizabeth wouldn’t do that! The people who killed them killed her too!”

“We can’t rule it out.”

“Yes we can! She’s dead!”

“Sam… I’m sorry for your loss… But you have to go back to the Precinct.”

“I want to help catch the bastard!”

“It wasn’t a request, Anderson. Go.”

Short Story

About the author

Spencer W

I am a young author who wants to pursue his dream career. My work my not be perfect, but it is an opportunity to learn and grow as a creator. Hopefully, you will like what I write and wish to read more. Warning: I like to write dark themes!

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