DamnTheStyx
Local Ferrywoman
Mary ran through the damp streets, the oil-black sky pressing down on her. The white bulbs reflected off the damp tarmac as she checked behind her, seeing something glinting in the distance. It was getting closer. No stars were out, and the moon was nowhere to be found, either. Not a single person stirred. It was like the street had been isolated from the rest of the world for the sheer purpose of Mary’s panic. Her car had died almost twenty minutes ago, and since then, she hadn’t stopped moving. Her legs burnt and she stumbled forwards, barely able to keep her balance as her body screamed at her to stop and lie down. Her entire being hurt, not just her limbs. Her house was so close…
She slammed into the door, quickly fumbling her keys as she tried to slip them into the lock. After a few tries, they went in. As she shut the door, she heard the sound of boots click, click, clicking along the ground. The strong scent of ash billowed through the door crack as Mary ran up stair after stair, falling on the last one and dragging herself to her feet. She couldn’t be caught like this, she couldn’t be caught at all. If she dared stop, it’d be on her. It’d tear her from her life and her family and everything she loved. She dashed into a side room and slid the slat-doors of the cupboard shut, taking a discarded curtain rail from the gloom.
The shadowy figure opened the door silently, his coat dragging on the ground as he ducked under the doorframe, quickly shortening to an appropriate size. He snatched his hat out of mid air and put it back on his head (it’d be a nightmare to dry…). The woman in these walls owed him a great deal of things, most of which she didn’t have. But, she had something that would make do. He walked up the stairs, his scuffed boots clacking on the wood as the shadow leisurely strolled up. While he walked, he checked the photos on the walls. This woman had a family. No surprise there, of course… From the photos, she had a boyfriend, and they were getting engaged if the discarded ring box was any sign. Eventually , long spindly fingers closed around the doorframe and peeled it open like a fruit. The room looked like a guest room being renovated, so there was plenty of places to hide, but he heard breathing. Too easy.
His hand reached towards the slats, watching as the wood decayed and split, hearing the breathing get louder and louder. Right before she screamed, he pushed his hand in and quickly ripped out everything that was worth anything. Her mind, her memories, her being, her feelings. All in one glowing little ball. It was always funny to see the body hit the ground, little more then a vegetable. But, he had gotten what he was here for, so the shadow put the glow into his coat and stepped into the darkness as the moon and stars returned. The Devil in the Battered Top Hat shrunk into nothing right before any light hit the room.
She slammed into the door, quickly fumbling her keys as she tried to slip them into the lock. After a few tries, they went in. As she shut the door, she heard the sound of boots click, click, clicking along the ground. The strong scent of ash billowed through the door crack as Mary ran up stair after stair, falling on the last one and dragging herself to her feet. She couldn’t be caught like this, she couldn’t be caught at all. If she dared stop, it’d be on her. It’d tear her from her life and her family and everything she loved. She dashed into a side room and slid the slat-doors of the cupboard shut, taking a discarded curtain rail from the gloom.
The shadowy figure opened the door silently, his coat dragging on the ground as he ducked under the doorframe, quickly shortening to an appropriate size. He snatched his hat out of mid air and put it back on his head (it’d be a nightmare to dry…). The woman in these walls owed him a great deal of things, most of which she didn’t have. But, she had something that would make do. He walked up the stairs, his scuffed boots clacking on the wood as the shadow leisurely strolled up. While he walked, he checked the photos on the walls. This woman had a family. No surprise there, of course… From the photos, she had a boyfriend, and they were getting engaged if the discarded ring box was any sign. Eventually , long spindly fingers closed around the doorframe and peeled it open like a fruit. The room looked like a guest room being renovated, so there was plenty of places to hide, but he heard breathing. Too easy.
His hand reached towards the slats, watching as the wood decayed and split, hearing the breathing get louder and louder. Right before she screamed, he pushed his hand in and quickly ripped out everything that was worth anything. Her mind, her memories, her being, her feelings. All in one glowing little ball. It was always funny to see the body hit the ground, little more then a vegetable. But, he had gotten what he was here for, so the shadow put the glow into his coat and stepped into the darkness as the moon and stars returned. The Devil in the Battered Top Hat shrunk into nothing right before any light hit the room.
