A Smooth Criminal
By ndStar2TheRite (it's supposed to be 2nd, I love Peter Pan)
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I'm not that clever.
Authors Note: You may remember a fic I wrote a really long time ago (actually, over the summer) when Freddy was 94 and was looking back on his life under the name LostInMySanity, well I didn't stick to that, but I'm going to stick to this one whether it kills me or not…happy reading! PS: it gets better than this chapter, I swear!
Chapter One:
Drip….drop….drip….drop. A slow drizzle falling from the sky echoed off of the gutter of the Hathaway residence. Summer Hathaway lay alone in her room, contemplating anything amongst everything, glad that the rain was finally bringing some moisture into the hot, dry June air. For weeks there had been a drought and Summer's throat was so dry and soar, she could hardly speak, let alone scream. Little did she know, the past weather would be her doom in a few minutes' time…what am I talking about? Well, you'll see…
A sound came from deep in the hall, not a huge sound, just what seemed like a soft punch against a wall. Summer, being more nosey than curious, couldn't help but think something of it. She sighed and decided to get up and reach for the door, as the magnetic attraction came between her and her knob, an odd crescendoeing noise came from a window. Summer could feel her mind racing along with her heart, trying to predict which one would come to the finish line first.
Pit…pat…pit…pat…pit pat…pit pat….pit pat….pit pat pit pat pat pat pat pat pat pat….Her heart was beating faster than a tornado on an open field, she didn't know whether to run or to cry. Either wouldn't work, she was locked in her room on the 7th story of an apartment building, and her throat was too dry to cry.
More drips came, but not from the rain, she couldn't help it now. She had to see…slowly, she turned her door knob, inhaling deeply. The door creaked open briskly, and when she saw what was behind it, she wished it hadn't. There, one her floor, her very own carpet, were brownish-red marks, there's nothing else that's quite like it…blood.
Summer had to run, where to, she didn't know. In her impulsivity, she started down the hall, she didn't go far, for there, at the end, was a black figure carrying a large hook in his right hand. She tried to scream, but the terror took the sound away along with her dry throat. Besides, no one was there to help her, no one. She was all alone and she probably knew before the shadow did that she was going to die. She didn't try to fight it, there was nothing to help her now. She just lay on the ground and wept while the hook sank into her gut. Summer Hathaway was no more.
You've been hit by, you've been struck by, a Smooth Criminal.