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Short Stories

The Beast Next Door
by mgharper05

Has been a member for 1 year and 3 months Has uploaded 15 items Has voted for 89 items

Part 1

Don't stop.
Just keep going.
Never look back.
He will find me, and I can't do anything about it.
NO! Don't think that way. If you keep putting one foot in front of the other, you can get away.
No, I can't. I can't get away. There's no escape. I'm gonna die here.
Fight or run. How to choose. I guess it really depends on what's chasing you. If it's a monster, run. If it's a man, fight. But what if it's both?
My answer? Run like hell. Run as if your life depended on it, which in my case it very well might.
Unsteady feet thudding on the ground. Trees flying by. Cold night air stinging my face and lungs. Clothes ripped and filthy. One shoe gone. Bruises aching, heart pounding, mind racing.
If I can make it to a road somehow, someone will see me, help me get the hell away from here. Just as long as it's not too-
Oh God he's close! Really close. I have to go faster. I kick off my other shoe, bare feet thudding on the cold, wet leaves. I pick up the pace. Over the pounding of my feet and heart, I can hear heavy footfalls, crunching twigs and leaves beneath huge feet.
Why does he want me? What does he want from me? The trees begin to thin out. I can see the distant glow of a street lamp. My heart lifts. I continue to run, weaving in between trees and bushes. I swerve to avoid a particularly large trunk, but instead, I slip on the dew covered leaves littering the ground.
I tumble to the ground, sliding on the slick, leafy carpet, until I bump into something solid.
Scratch that. SOMEONE solid.
"Well well well. What do we have here." Rough hands seize me before I can get to my feet.
"Let GO of me you creep! Get OFF ME!!!" I struggle against his iron grip, but he only chuckles.
"Now Sam, did you really think you could get away from me that easily?" He tightens his grip on my body, stifling my weak attempts to break free."Now you can come with me quietly, and be a good girl, or we can do it the hard way. It's your-"
I kick backward with my foot, hitting him in the shin with my heel. Startled, he loosened his grip just enough for me to slip out and start to run. Before I get ten feet, I hear a popping noise, there is a stinging sensation on my neck, and my vision begins to blur. My legs stop working and I fall to the ground on my stomach.
Footsteps. Someone rolls me onto my back. The last thing I hear before the world goes dark is one simple phrase.
"I guess we'll do it the hard way."

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