The Figure

by Kathryn about a year ago in fiction

Was survival truly a possibility?

The Figure

Thunder shattered the silence of the room, beginning the events of the evening. This, unbeknownst to me, would be the night that I died. Sitting silently in my living room I gazed out through the window at the drenched driveway, entranced by the natural rhythm of the rain. I have always been prone to optimism, so I did not give it a second thought when the power went out. After the candles had been lit and the house was filled with a warm glow I returned to my post at the window. As lightning flashed and shone through the window I heard a soft voice from across the room. I dismissed it, turning my attention back to the storm. After a moment of silence, it came again, stronger than before. I ignored it once more, not thinking much of it. Time and time again it called, growing louder with each breath. The once calm room was now doused with tension as I tried to distract myself from the voice. Moments passed and eventually, it stopped, filling me with curiosity. I slipped off my perch and peeked around the corner to examine the voice, wondering why it had ceased. The light from the burning candle cast a gentle glow across the ground and landed on a figure at the end of the hallway. Its eyes shone with fury as we stared at each other, neither moving. Fear shot up my body, filling me instantly with the desire to hide. The house shook as thunder raged through the dark sky and the rain fell violently onto the roof. I scattered through the living room, desperately seeking a place to conceal myself. The figure flew in after me, calling out my name. I rushed out into the backyard and ran up to an old tree, which seemed to be my best option for escape. The tree towered over me, its leaves acting as an umbrella from the rain. Adrenaline pumped through me as I climbed my new safehouse. Suddenly I felt a cold hand grasp my legs. I gripped the branches of the tree, but it was of no use. The hand ripped me down and dragged me into the house. My voice could not be heard as I screamed, praying that some soul would hear my cries. The floor of the house was covered in my belongings, making it difficult for the figure to maneuver. Seeing it as my only option I grab objects off the floor and threw them aimlessly. God must have been on my side because one made its way and hit them in the face. The figure's painful grip on my arm released as they shrieked in pain. Using this newfound opportunity for escape I sprinted through the shadows to safety. Rain continued to ferociously bash the roof of the dimly lit house, emanating the feeling of sheer panic that racked my being. I silently sprinted into my bedroom and slipped under my bed. Soundlessly I scrunched into the corner of my hiding spot, covering my mouth to limit the noise. Heavy footsteps made their way down the wooden hallway. The figure’s cries of pain and anger echo throughout the house, signaling the effect of my lucky blow. With each step, I felt my body tighten in an attempt to conceal myself even further. The figure’s voice seeped through the walls as they whispered my name in fury. Burning light flooded into the darkness of my room as the door creaked open. Each second drained life out of my body as I waited for the threat to leave. Time seemed to drag out for an eternity as I tried not to make a sound. If only I could stop my heart from beating, as I suspect that that was what gave me away. In a flash I was ripped from underneath my bed and pulled into the bathroom. The room lit up as a candle was set on the rim of the sink, illuminating my inevitable demise. The door shut and the water began pouring into the bathtub as the figure angrily yelled at me. “Take off your clothes and get in the bath, Jordan. I don’t know why you make this so difficult for me. I can’t believe you threw your toy at me! All I want to do is to relax and have a nice evening but you are making that very hard.” The figure forcibly ripped off my clothes and plunged me into the burning, bubbly water. I gasped for air as I struggled to claw my way from the tub, trying perilously to stay alive. My attempts, however, were to no avail. The rain came to a slow trickle as the figure loomed over me. They had won. The events of the evening had resulted in my inevitable death. Was there truly any way that I could have survived?

fiction
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