Rachel had no idea why she woke up so abruptly but at the moment this was not her main concern. She stared in disbelief at the door of her room. It was wide open. She got out of bed and walked towards it. Just before she got to it she stepped in something cold and wet. Looking down, she saw a large puddle of water at the foot of her bed. Samara, Rachel thought to herself. There was a trail of water that shot out from the puddle that led through the open door. Tentatively, Rachel followed it.
Just outside her door the trail forked. To the right it led to the social lounge. Rachel wanted no part of that. To the left she couldn't tell where it went. It just disappeared into the dark hallway. Rachel was unnerved by all the emptiness. She could see or hear no activity of any kind. She stood in the doorway racked with indecision. She squinted in an effort to see down the hallway, to see where the trail led. Just then a flash of lightning from outside lit up the hallway, revealing a small figure standing at the other end of it looking back at Rachel. Then everything went dark again.
Rachel quickly retreated back to her room and cowered in the corner right next to the door. There she waited in silence. She slowed her breathing in an effort to calm down. Then she turned her ear towards the door and listened intently. There was nothing, nothing except the muffled sound of thunder coming from the storm outside. She relaxed a little and then she heard it. They were approaching from the end of the hall where she had seen the figure: the unmistakable sounds of wet, sloppy footsteps. Rachel's heart began to pound violently in her chest as the footsteps grew ever closer. She tried desperately to quiet her breathing, which had become loud and erratic. Still the footsteps advanced. Rachel threw her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream she felt rising within her. Tears formed in her eyes. The fear was too great to stifle. She began to shake uncontrollably. Then the footsteps stopped. It sounded like they stopped right outside her door.
"Please, please," Rachel pleaded under her breath. "Go away."
Rachel waited. She knew it was only a matter of time. She knew that Samara had come for her at last. But nothing happened. The tension within Rachel grew to a feverish pitch until she couldn't stand it any longer.
"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!" she screamed. Her outburst echoed through the building, bouncing from hallway to hallway.
With all the nerve she could muster up, Rachel leapt out of the corner to face Samara, but she wasn't there. Rachel poked her head out of the room and quickly glanced both ways down the hallway. It was empty.
"Fine. You want to play games?" Rachel said aloud. "I'm ready to end this anyway."
With renewed determination Rachel set off down the hallway, following the trail. At the end of the hallway there was another puddle where the figure had been standing. A new trail shot off from it leading down another hallway. It was Rachel's favorite hallway, the one that led to the gate. When she arrived at the gate she found it was partially opened. She continued to follow the water trail that snaked through the opening and into forbidden territory. Rachel had never been past the gate unsupervised. A new fear swelled within her, a fear of being caught. She knew that freedom was close at hand. Where were all the orderlies and night watchmen? Was Samara doing all this? Would Samara let her escape? And if so, why? These questions ran through Rachel's mind as she skulked silently through the hallway.
The door to the outside world was now in Rachel's sight. Her pace quickened only to come to a dead stop in the center of a four-way intersection about fifty feet away from the door. The water trail she had been following had ended. She now stood before a large puddle that had only one trail branching off of it, the one that led back to her room. Without moving her body, Rachel frantically looked up and down the hallways to her right and left. Then she turned her attention to the lobby that was in front of her. She knew Samara was close. She could feel it.
The sound of wet footsteps came from the right hallway. Rachel turned to face them. Then the sound of footsteps from the left hallway forced Rachel to swing back around. Fear gripped her heart. She wanted to run back to her room, but the door was right there. It was hers for the taking. Just then Samara emerged from a doorway on the right side of the lobby. She jerkily lumbered her way to a large mirror hanging in the lobby. Rachel watched in terror as Samara talked to her own reflection. Rachel couldn't hear her but she was sure that's what Samara was doing. If only she could see her mouth she would know, but all the long, black, wet hair prevented that.
Frozen on the spot, Rachel gasped when Samara turned to face her. Samara's reflection, however, remained still. A high-pitched screech suddenly filled Rachel's head as Samara advanced on her.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" Rachel screamed, her hands clutching her head.
"He's coming," Samara said. A strange, creepy echo followed. It sounded like words but none that Rachel had ever heard.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" The screeching had become intolerable.
"He's coming," Samara repeated and was instantly ten feet closer to Rachel.
"NO! GET AWAY!"
"He's coming." The words along with the echo swam in Rachel's head. They twisted and coiled around each other, forming a single strand of dialect that burrowed into Rachel's brain while the ever-persistent screeching numbed all thought and reason.
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Rachel screamed and then collapsed into the puddle of water.
Just outside her door the trail forked. To the right it led to the social lounge. Rachel wanted no part of that. To the left she couldn't tell where it went. It just disappeared into the dark hallway. Rachel was unnerved by all the emptiness. She could see or hear no activity of any kind. She stood in the doorway racked with indecision. She squinted in an effort to see down the hallway, to see where the trail led. Just then a flash of lightning from outside lit up the hallway, revealing a small figure standing at the other end of it looking back at Rachel. Then everything went dark again.
Rachel quickly retreated back to her room and cowered in the corner right next to the door. There she waited in silence. She slowed her breathing in an effort to calm down. Then she turned her ear towards the door and listened intently. There was nothing, nothing except the muffled sound of thunder coming from the storm outside. She relaxed a little and then she heard it. They were approaching from the end of the hall where she had seen the figure: the unmistakable sounds of wet, sloppy footsteps. Rachel's heart began to pound violently in her chest as the footsteps grew ever closer. She tried desperately to quiet her breathing, which had become loud and erratic. Still the footsteps advanced. Rachel threw her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream she felt rising within her. Tears formed in her eyes. The fear was too great to stifle. She began to shake uncontrollably. Then the footsteps stopped. It sounded like they stopped right outside her door.
"Please, please," Rachel pleaded under her breath. "Go away."
Rachel waited. She knew it was only a matter of time. She knew that Samara had come for her at last. But nothing happened. The tension within Rachel grew to a feverish pitch until she couldn't stand it any longer.
"WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR!" she screamed. Her outburst echoed through the building, bouncing from hallway to hallway.
With all the nerve she could muster up, Rachel leapt out of the corner to face Samara, but she wasn't there. Rachel poked her head out of the room and quickly glanced both ways down the hallway. It was empty.
"Fine. You want to play games?" Rachel said aloud. "I'm ready to end this anyway."
With renewed determination Rachel set off down the hallway, following the trail. At the end of the hallway there was another puddle where the figure had been standing. A new trail shot off from it leading down another hallway. It was Rachel's favorite hallway, the one that led to the gate. When she arrived at the gate she found it was partially opened. She continued to follow the water trail that snaked through the opening and into forbidden territory. Rachel had never been past the gate unsupervised. A new fear swelled within her, a fear of being caught. She knew that freedom was close at hand. Where were all the orderlies and night watchmen? Was Samara doing all this? Would Samara let her escape? And if so, why? These questions ran through Rachel's mind as she skulked silently through the hallway.
The door to the outside world was now in Rachel's sight. Her pace quickened only to come to a dead stop in the center of a four-way intersection about fifty feet away from the door. The water trail she had been following had ended. She now stood before a large puddle that had only one trail branching off of it, the one that led back to her room. Without moving her body, Rachel frantically looked up and down the hallways to her right and left. Then she turned her attention to the lobby that was in front of her. She knew Samara was close. She could feel it.
The sound of wet footsteps came from the right hallway. Rachel turned to face them. Then the sound of footsteps from the left hallway forced Rachel to swing back around. Fear gripped her heart. She wanted to run back to her room, but the door was right there. It was hers for the taking. Just then Samara emerged from a doorway on the right side of the lobby. She jerkily lumbered her way to a large mirror hanging in the lobby. Rachel watched in terror as Samara talked to her own reflection. Rachel couldn't hear her but she was sure that's what Samara was doing. If only she could see her mouth she would know, but all the long, black, wet hair prevented that.
Frozen on the spot, Rachel gasped when Samara turned to face her. Samara's reflection, however, remained still. A high-pitched screech suddenly filled Rachel's head as Samara advanced on her.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" Rachel screamed, her hands clutching her head.
"He's coming," Samara said. A strange, creepy echo followed. It sounded like words but none that Rachel had ever heard.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" The screeching had become intolerable.
"He's coming," Samara repeated and was instantly ten feet closer to Rachel.
"NO! GET AWAY!"
"He's coming." The words along with the echo swam in Rachel's head. They twisted and coiled around each other, forming a single strand of dialect that burrowed into Rachel's brain while the ever-persistent screeching numbed all thought and reason.
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" Rachel screamed and then collapsed into the puddle of water.
