It wasn't Old Man Smithers...
A spine-tingling scream shattered the eerie tranquility of the night, causing crows and other nightly beasts to flee, startled by the sudden noise.
Daphne's knees wobbled as they no longer could support her weight as she crumpled to the floor, her breaths coming in a short, quick pace as her wide eyes never looked away from the sight before her. She lifted a shaking hand to her mouth agape as if to hold in another scream that had decided to catch in her throat, and the occasional tear at the sheer shocking sight. She dug her stockinged feet into the old hardwood floor as she scooted backwards as far as she could go, whimpering the whole way.
Once her back had met the cool surface of something solid, she finally leaned forward, pulling her knees towards her face and began to sob. Between gasps of air as she cried, she had looked up again at the sight that had frightened her: her dog was dead, hanging upside down from a meat hook in the middle of the room, headless. She again averted her eyes as her small body was wracked with sobs again.
She had cried herself out until no tears could come, and she had to sit through the torture that the room held for her. The slow, yet painfully loud pitter-patter of blood dripped into a growing maroon puddle beneath the lifeless form. Staci turned away, turning to the object she had backed into: a carved pumpkin with no face.
Her brow furrowed as she noticed the lid was missing, and something dark was smeared around near the top. She chanced a look inside the pupmkin. Another shrill scream ripped from her throat as a familiar canine head bobbed in a red pool of blood inside the pumpkin.
END.
This was a lil contest piece for a different website, and I'd thought I'd share with you lovely people.
I know I haven't been on here in a loooong time, so I decided to change things up. :)
Review if you would like to suggest changes, or just to compliment... It doesn't matter.