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Final Girl

She Thought She Made It

By Gabriella TschudyPublished 2 years ago 3 min read
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Female Silhouette Reaching Out

“You’re not special for winning a game

With someone who you know was never playing

She could’ve killed you

She had every right.” - Penelope Scott, Lotta True Crime

MOST KILLERS DON’T HAVE A MOTIVE, especially this one. Not like the motive mattered to her, she needed to survive. She had to; she wasn’t the one to go out quietly – she’d rather go down swinging than anything else. With a shaky breath, she hid behind one of the trees. There was a brief light that shone through the clearing she was hiding next to, and she could see his lumpy silhouette looking around. The rain came down harder, quieting her uneven breaths into the cold autumn night. She waited until he left again before she decided to keep moving.

Help had to be coming – she was sure of that much, one of her friends had left a while ago to go get it. Her stomach twisted at the realization of how long said friend had been gone and the dreadful thought soon came to realization.

Her friend was probably just as dead as the rest of them.

She made a break for it – pushing herself to keep going, across the clearing and through the unknown of the woods awaiting her. All she knew was that eventually she would hit road again, and road meant going back into town. Getting to town meant that this hellish nightmare would finally be over.

And she was eager for that – as her friend had once put it, there was only one that lived until the end of the bloodbath. She was going to make that one, be herself, as she ran with the thought of what it would feel like when the monster would be thrown into the back of a cop car as she waited for her parents to come get her in the back of an ambulance.

Running through wild woods, branches and thorns smacking her in places that cut and would probably bruise her – the adrenaline numbed the pain she surely would feel, and as she got closer to yet another clearing, her hope was reignited. It was going to be over. She was going to make it. She was going to be like Sally Hardesty at the end of Texas Chainsaw, jumping into the back of a truck, screaming and laughing in the face of death that almost took her.

Just as she made it, she waved down a seemingly innocent pickup truck. The truck came to a stop and as she ran toward it, relieved at the sound of the doors unlocking, she opened the passenger side. Revealing Death sitting in the driver’s seat with his revolver staring her in the face. But she wasn’t afraid. She knew she was going to make it.

She’s the final girl, after all.

He got out of the car, holding the gun in hand as he approached her. She wasn't going to give up - that wasn't who she was.

"Out of all of you tonight, you were the most difficult." Death spoke, pulling back the hammer of the revolver, "Gonna end that right now."

In spur of the moment thinking, she lunged forward, the gun falling out of his hand as she quickly got away. Grabbing it, for once, she had the upper hand.

"You're not going to get me, you're not going to win this time."

Then all anyone could hear, was a bang.

monster
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About the Creator

Gabriella Tschudy

Anne Rice once said, “To write something you have to risk making a fool of yourself.”

Read my works because you want to read scary stories or stories about vampires navigating eternity and so much more. Consider supporting me.

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