This is my second story to be posted on the internet. This is just a story I thought of in the middle of the day and decided to write. I'm not really sure how good it is but yeah. I basically just took the original idea and kept adding to it as I saw fit and as the ideas popped in my head. If I think that something should be changed later on I will either edit it or just re-write it but rite now this is how it is.
I hope you like it. I do not own Leatherface, the Sheriff, or The Texas Chainsaw Massacre franchise. Please do not sue me.
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Dust. There is dust everywhere. Dust and grime covering everything in sight. I wish it wasn't there. Its easier to see foot prints if there is dust. But perhaps, perhaps they will not see the tracks. No. I should not rely on that, for that may get me killed. My breadth seams ragged and fast as it kicks up tiny flurries of dust of the floor. I need to slow my breathing, or they will hear. The dust may give my location away as well. Again I wish that there was no dust.
A small crack in the wall of this broken down shack spills a tiny pool of light from the setting sun not far from where my arm lies. I briefly wonder if I shall ever see a setting sun again, or if this will be my last.
Heavy foot falls enter the shack, with each step the building shakes a little. The fear that was beginning to abate takes hold of me again and my heart races. From the sounds of the steps, the person is getting close. It moves around the building slowly, opening doors and moving objects, searching for its' prey. Just as the foot steps advance to the door of the closet I hide in, a voice rings out from out side the shack.
"Tommy!"
The steps falter but still come closer. Two feet come to rest on the other side of the door blocking the thin line of fading light streaming under it. I can only imagine the hand that is no doubt reaching for the handle.
"Thomas! Will you get out here and help me with this! Thomas?"
After what seems like an eternity but could have been no more then a few seconds, the feet begin to guide their owner away from my hiding place. When they get far enough I let out the breadth I didn't realize I was holding. I take a few deep breadths to clam myself, ignoring the disgusting taste of the dust that also enters with the air. As I begin to chide myself for even considering praying to God for help, the Sheriff again calls out for Thomas.
If it weren't for my giddy joy at not being caught I might have noted that Thomas should have been with the Sheriff by now, but instead was still being called for. As I stand, the beam of sun light disappears, I only get an instant to wonder why.
The giant smashes through the wall. My heart seams to stop as I look into those brown eyes surrounded by the skin of the dead. As the board in his hands smashes down on my head, my life begins to flash before my eyes.
My mother's face. My father's eyes. My 7th birthday party. The first time I rode a bike. My friend handing me my first cigarette. Drinking behind the school. Arguing with my parents about the drugs. My mother bailing me out of jail. My boyfriend's naked body against mine as I lost my virginity. My parents crying as I renounced God. My parents dying as I completed my initiation. Burning down the church that had cast me out. Laying on the side of the road in the hot Texas sun as the car burned. My boyfriend's head rolling on the ground as his blood splattered the walls. Running into the shack. All of this sped by my eyes at a high rate of speed. But a voice brought me back.
"What took you so long boy?"
Thomas grunted as he dragged me to where the sheriff stood. Rocks and sticks scraped along my back as I was dragged over them. Blood trickled down my cheek from somewhere on my head.
"Well, well, if it isn't miss hot shot her self. Not such a tough gal now, are ya?"
Tears begin to run down my face.
"Please let me go."
"After what you did? No, no. Your going to pay for your sins."
"Please! Please get this retard away from me! He'll kill me!"
My words are becoming jumbled as I cry.
"He ain't no retard, just misunderstood."
Thomas began dragging me away, the Sheriff fallowing and talking.
"We found that dairy you wrote. We respect family in these parts. We can't let a family killing bitch like you get away with what you did. Ain't that rite Tommy boy?"
Thomas again grunted in reply as he dragged me over a patch of broken glass. I cry out in pain as the pieces cut into my back.
"Please stop."
I sob, only to be answered with a sharp laugh.
"Do you hear that Tommy? The little Missy here wants you to stop! Like our Thomas would really let a murdering slut like you go."
He continued to laugh. We left the forest and came into a plain of tall grass that waved lazily in the wind. The Sheriff had stopped laughing.
"You should know that burnin churches down ain't right. God don't like it when you go and do stuff like that. And we respect God out here. Hes the one that keeps sending us scum like you to keep us fed. Now you go play with your new toy Tommy, shes all yours. But try to keep the noise down a bit, Ma ain't feelin that well. Go on now."
The Sheriff stopped and chuckled darkly as I was dragged up the steps and into the house. My last thought before blanking out after tumbling down the last of the basement stairs and landing in water was, "Well, at least theirs not as much dust down here."
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Ok. Thats it. I hope you liked it. For your information The girl does die. So I'm not really sure how we get this narrative but yeah. Tats the way I thought of it and thats the way I wrote it. I love constructive criticisms so please review and tell me what you think. Thanks a ton for reading! I really hope you liked it! Here is a shout out to the people who have so far reviewed my only other story! Thanks a ton to:
Lasgalendil
Lynnryo
Smiley the Clown
Bellatrix-Tyler
I really appreciated it! Please Review! Have a great day!!!!!!!
