It was the most terrifying moment of my life, kneeling on the floor, listening to the Doctor's instructions and absolutely petrified that Lawrence would take his eyes off the stone statue before him. I glanced at the angel, its arm outstretched menacingly. It was frightening, knowing that as soon as either of us blinked, it would get us. That as soon as one of us turned around, we wouldn't be here anymore. That when we weren't looking at it, it was looking at us. I couldn't tell which was worse; having to stare it straight in its sightless eyes or feeling the hair rise on the back of my neck as though it was breathing down my spine...
Don't blink. Don't ever look away from it.
Hannah stared up at the old, decrepit building that was Wester Drumlins. No one lived in it anymore; in fact, she couldn't remember a time when it was inhabited. She could recall that some goth teenagers had claimed it as their hang out, but they were long gone now. She brushed back the overgrown foliage as she stepped through the gate. There was something enigmatic about the place; the untended garden and natural growth of the flora set it apart from all the other houses in the area. She took another step, tripping over a tree root, her glasses sent flying. All right, someone should really cut a clearer path. She rubbed her eyes, seeing something grey at the corner of her vision. She quickly felt around the ground for her glasses, then put them on, glancing over her shoulder. Nothing there, maybe she should get contacts so she could see better and all the time. She slowly climbed to her feet and continued up the path to the door.
The inside of the building looked more archaic than the exterior; paint crumbled from the walls and the staircase banister was caked in dust. Above her swung a delicate chandelier, poised to fall at any moment. In the corner of the room stood a large stone angel, its hands over its face, as though it was weeping uncontrollably. Hannah felt herself being drawn to it. Whoever had carved the sculpture had been a master; the slump of the shoulders, the eerieness of it made it seem like it was actually alive. She touched the cold, marble arm and almost immediately recoiled. There was something unnatural about it. She took a quick step back, her eyes still riveted to the statue. She could swear that it would remove its hands at any moment. Hannah backed away slowly, until her foot collided with the bottom stair, then she turned and ran up the staircase. When she reached the top of the stairs, she flung herself into the attic, slamming the door behind her.
She slumped down against the door, breathing heavily. Her pulse throbbed with an illogical fear, one that she couldn't explain. When she looked up she let out a little squeal. There were three more angel statues in the room. God, the person who had lived here was such a freak. She exhaled slowly, taking off her glasses and cleaning them. She felt that she had overstayed her welcome here. Shakily, she put them back on and looked up.
The last thing she saw was the angel's snarl, its hands outstretched poised to grab her. The scream that was welling up within her throat came out and she shut her eyes in terror.
Then everything disappeared.