A/N: So, I put together a set of prompts based on creepy lyrics from some of my favorite spooky songs, and while it's a day late, I put together a short one-shot for the first one. (If you want, I'll send you the link to the prompt list.)
"You hear the beating of your heart, you know the screaming's gonna start; here comes the really scary part!" -It's Terror Time Again.
I held my breath as I walked down the hallway. "Alright, Garry, nothing to worry about," I muttered out loud. "Just because you went down a staircase and ended up in a completely different part of the gallery doesn't mean you have anything to worry about. Even if the door disappeared behind you."
I looked around. Actually, I wasn't even sure where I was. I'd been to this gallery a few times, and I'd never seen this room before. Strange...
I heard a thump behind me, Whirling around, I saw a creepy looking doll sitting on the ground.
I shuddered. These things kept popping up, no matter which way I went. I took a deep breath. "Alright, who's leaving these dolls all over? If you're trying to scare me, it's not working!"
I heard a strange giggling sound. It didn't sound like any child I'd ever heard. "Alright, maybe it's working a little..."
Continuing down the hall, I passed a painting hanging on the wall. Pausing, I read the plague under it out loud. "'The Lady in Blue'... Hm. Very nice." I'd seen a similar painting before in red, but there was something... off about this painting. It seemed just a tad too real, as if it had a life of it's own.
I turned away, only to see writing on the wall a few feet ahead. I bent over to read it.
"Don't ignore her."
"Hm? Don't ignore wh-" I was cut off by a crash behind me. Startled, I turned to face the painting.
The painting that was now crawling towards me.
I screamed, backing away in shock. The head, arms and upper body shown in the painting were now sticking out of the frame, detached from the canvas they were painted on. It was pulling itself along with it's arms, slowly at first, but quickly building up speed
I turned and ran. How... how could this be happening? This isn't possible, I- I must be dreaming, yes, that's the only explanation to this. I'm sleeping, and I'm going to wake up any moment now.
Of course, I knew it wasn't a dream, but maybe if I told myself it was, it might help.
Still, I kept running, not noticing that the painting had stopped chasing me a while back.
Nor did I notice that I'd dropped my rose from my pocket while running.
