Victims: Toys In The Attic
The eerie silence was pierced by the sound of a bullet, and the raspy breathing from a man's chest. A certain fear had over come Bob as smoke left the barrel of his Bennelli, the hot lead sliced silently into the creeping, growing, persisting mist. Sweat poured in raped torrents down his face and stinging his eyes. Blinking Furiously, the droplets seemed to rain down having no mercy upon his optic orbs. Behind the oncoming eerie smoke like substance lurked beings that you could only imagine in your nightmares. Spawned demonic creatures from hell shrieked and roared, only making the chase faster. Each vocalization from those wrenched beasts pierced the air, rattling the eardrums until the point where they'd burst. Maybe the shot killed one of those fuckers. Bob thought as his chest pounded heavily with the quick and rapid beats of his heart, and his legs were at burning from the vigorous running. "Bob, wait!" a familiar voice beckoned from behind him. He turned around to see his friend Jim, frantically limping to him from his left. His heart and mind found joy in the knowledge that his best friend was still alive, but he was cross with him nonetheless. "Damnit, Jim! I thought I told you to get out of town!" Firing into the mist, his last shell was used, and the unseen terrors that lurked inside that gray hazy veil let out another ear-peircing screech of rage and pain. Red pain. Post haste he dropped his shotgun and pulled out his 9mm that was homed at his left hit holster. He continued the onslaught of burning lead, hoping it would sear the flesh of the nightmarish creatures, which perused them. A quick glance behind him let his brain try to think of an escape. "Jim, get into the hotel!" He screamed as he neared the end of his clip. Too soon did the gun run out of ammo, dropping his gun he ran towards Jim who held the front door open to the desolate hotel. A desperate attempt to hurry he jumped and slid inside the building, Jim slamming the doors behind him. "Lock the doors!" Bob yelled. Fear enveloped his body and terror glimmered in his eyes, "THERE ARE NO LOCKS!" Jim yelled back. No sooner had he finished the gray mass tore through the doors like tissue paper, and sent Jim flying into the check-in desk. Wood and blood were cascaded into the air and seemed to flow in such ironic grace and landed in eerie silence. Unconscious Jim lay amongst the rubble, while Bob high-tailed it up the stairs and to the other rooms. As Jim came to, the mist was only inches away and frantically trying to get away, but alas to no avail. Engulfing his body, blood- curdling screams came forth from the oozing shadow of death. Bob heard his screams and his skin flushed cold and goose flesh pricked his skin. Loud popping and snapping sounds also came from the gray mist, along with the last gurgled scream of pure terror. Tired and desperate, Bob turned into the nearest room, and quickly locked the door behind him. The room was small and dark, only a pair of stairs going up. Quickly he galloped the short flight of steps until he was in the attic. Again locking another door, he sat and panted. A tormented soul, full of fear; and a body stinging and aching from muscle exhaustion, he fell to the floor, and thought to himself out loud and barely above a whisper. "It's back.and it's stronger this time." Slowly he backed into a corner of the room. "But why now?.why me?" He fell silent. A creeping mist seemed to curl itself in long claws under the door. The icy hand of fear gripped his heart as it skipped a beat. Something solid bumped the door. "Somebody," He screamed, the door was jostled, "Anybody!" The door came forth in splinters, with a rush of the concealing smoke. Bob was forever more silent, and a victorious roar from the unseen evil beyond the fog was heard. Then is slipped away just as silently as it had creped in, leaving nothing behind.
The eerie silence was pierced by the sound of a bullet, and the raspy breathing from a man's chest. A certain fear had over come Bob as smoke left the barrel of his Bennelli, the hot lead sliced silently into the creeping, growing, persisting mist. Sweat poured in raped torrents down his face and stinging his eyes. Blinking Furiously, the droplets seemed to rain down having no mercy upon his optic orbs. Behind the oncoming eerie smoke like substance lurked beings that you could only imagine in your nightmares. Spawned demonic creatures from hell shrieked and roared, only making the chase faster. Each vocalization from those wrenched beasts pierced the air, rattling the eardrums until the point where they'd burst. Maybe the shot killed one of those fuckers. Bob thought as his chest pounded heavily with the quick and rapid beats of his heart, and his legs were at burning from the vigorous running. "Bob, wait!" a familiar voice beckoned from behind him. He turned around to see his friend Jim, frantically limping to him from his left. His heart and mind found joy in the knowledge that his best friend was still alive, but he was cross with him nonetheless. "Damnit, Jim! I thought I told you to get out of town!" Firing into the mist, his last shell was used, and the unseen terrors that lurked inside that gray hazy veil let out another ear-peircing screech of rage and pain. Red pain. Post haste he dropped his shotgun and pulled out his 9mm that was homed at his left hit holster. He continued the onslaught of burning lead, hoping it would sear the flesh of the nightmarish creatures, which perused them. A quick glance behind him let his brain try to think of an escape. "Jim, get into the hotel!" He screamed as he neared the end of his clip. Too soon did the gun run out of ammo, dropping his gun he ran towards Jim who held the front door open to the desolate hotel. A desperate attempt to hurry he jumped and slid inside the building, Jim slamming the doors behind him. "Lock the doors!" Bob yelled. Fear enveloped his body and terror glimmered in his eyes, "THERE ARE NO LOCKS!" Jim yelled back. No sooner had he finished the gray mass tore through the doors like tissue paper, and sent Jim flying into the check-in desk. Wood and blood were cascaded into the air and seemed to flow in such ironic grace and landed in eerie silence. Unconscious Jim lay amongst the rubble, while Bob high-tailed it up the stairs and to the other rooms. As Jim came to, the mist was only inches away and frantically trying to get away, but alas to no avail. Engulfing his body, blood- curdling screams came forth from the oozing shadow of death. Bob heard his screams and his skin flushed cold and goose flesh pricked his skin. Loud popping and snapping sounds also came from the gray mist, along with the last gurgled scream of pure terror. Tired and desperate, Bob turned into the nearest room, and quickly locked the door behind him. The room was small and dark, only a pair of stairs going up. Quickly he galloped the short flight of steps until he was in the attic. Again locking another door, he sat and panted. A tormented soul, full of fear; and a body stinging and aching from muscle exhaustion, he fell to the floor, and thought to himself out loud and barely above a whisper. "It's back.and it's stronger this time." Slowly he backed into a corner of the room. "But why now?.why me?" He fell silent. A creeping mist seemed to curl itself in long claws under the door. The icy hand of fear gripped his heart as it skipped a beat. Something solid bumped the door. "Somebody," He screamed, the door was jostled, "Anybody!" The door came forth in splinters, with a rush of the concealing smoke. Bob was forever more silent, and a victorious roar from the unseen evil beyond the fog was heard. Then is slipped away just as silently as it had creped in, leaving nothing behind.