Chapter 4/Epilogue
Weeks turned into months, and Johnathan, growing more and more paranoid, realized the girl, the nightmarish being beginning to plague his thoughts, stepped closer and closer to his parents' house. The first month, she moved from the forest entrance and to that tree; the next, she slithered towards the fence, a sinister smile slowly creeping along her cheeks. He had hoped to escape in one of the cars; but, to his terror, the girl had destroyed the engines, smiling wickedly with wires in her hands.
By the end of the year, she had Johnathan trapped, peering through the front window eagerly.
Her eyes flashed something immoral.
Winter had come, bringing coldness and frostbites, but to Johnathan, a man scrumming to paranoia, it was nothing compared to the icy glare of that child. Having already witness Mr. Jones's death, the poor man moved to the front room, his father's rifle, a 7-gauge double barrel, in trembling hands. Johnathan now had sagging bags under his eyes, suffering from insomnia; he was too frightened to fall asleep these days, knowing, just knowing, she'd find a way in if he did fall asleep.
He would not let that happen.
The young man loaded the gun and glanced nervously to the window. Standing behind it, her tiny hands pressed gingerly to the glass, the little girl grinned from ear to ear. Her head tilted on an awkward angle, and her eyes, wide and menacing, stared into his soul. Her smile deepened sickeningly, looking cartoonish and oh so wrong.
"Johnathan..." The little girl crooned softly, running spider-like fingers down the frost-bite glass. "Let me in, Johnathan~."
She pounded on the glass, keeping that dark smile on her face; he stepped back only slightly, staring with trembling hands. The little girl pounded harder on the glass, her smile, which was of bloodied teeth grinding together, almost splitting her cheeks. The glass, although strong and thick, seemed to bend to her will, making Johnathan worried that she would break through.
The girl only banged harder.
"Let me in, Johnathan~~" A giggle slipped from her mouth, along with a demonic, low voice. "LET ME IN~"
Johnathan took aim, shaking where he stood, looking like a desperate man taking a last stand. The banging grew louder and louder, and his breathing grew shorter and shorter. But he had to remain calm and sane. He...He was a man of logic.
"Stay calm...you have an advantage..." The young man whispered to himself.
There were 8 bullets in the gun.
But that would be enough to take the girl out; it had to be enough.
Johnathan had hoped it wouldn't come to this, killing this child. But, as he had realized horribly, she wasn't right.
She wasn't harmless.
He leveled the double-barrel between her eyes, trying to look intimidating. Yet, it seemed to him that she laughed in his face, banging the glass harder and harder with more force.
"Stay back..." The young man warned, his finger squeezing the trigger lightly. "I-I'm warning you..."
"Johnathan~"
She knocked harder, and the window cracked suddenly.
Hearing that echoing crunch of the glass, Johnathan pulled the trigger, firing wildly at the child, shattering the glass completely. Her smile only faltered slightly as a bullet smacked dead between her eyes; her body snapped back, blood bursting forth in a gush and flowing gently as she soared from the porch.
A soft thud echoed outside and silence fell suddenly.
Breathing harshly, gripping the shotgun tightly, Johnathan gave a throaty chuckle, a panicked, relieved sound that suddenly sent waves of comfort through his body. The winter wind blew through the broken window, running along his sweaty, shaken face; nevertheless, he smiled, the adrenaline slowing down and his heart beating softer now. Closing his eyes, finally at peace, Johnathan made a move to fix the house up before his parents arrived.
...A giggle slipped through the winter air.
He paused, gripping the shotgun in his hand, and his heart dropped; looking back hurriedly, disbelieve flooding his mind along with panic, Johnathan watched as the little girl got up. Her body was bent back, legs rising slowly as the rest of her followed like a rag doll. Straightening up, bright crimson staining her dress and face, she stared back at him. Blood leaked down her forehead like a faucet, shining sickeningly against her pale skin.
She smiled wide but didn't show teeth; a disgusting redness slipped from her nose and mouth, making a puddle under her chin.
"Johnathan..." She crooned playfully, her voice taking on darker tones. "That wasn't very nice~~"
He ran down the hall.
Johnathan was a man of logic, and at that moment, being logical meant being a coward. He could hear the sound of the window shattering, letting more of the winter air slip through. He lunged towards the back room, his parents' room, and closed the door shut. The sound of footsteps echoed throughout the house, which made him frantically reload the gun; he breathed harshly, eyes widen desperately, as he struggled to load the bullets steadily.
This wasn't right.
She should've been dead; that blasted child should've been dead!
"Why..." He whispered shakily, looking to the closed door with fear. "Why is she here...?"
Nothing could be heard behind the door.
He tried to calm his heart, which rapidly beat with anxiousness. The house phone rang suddenly; answering it shakily, Johnathan heard his father's gruff voice on the other end.
The sounds of footsteps started, becoming rushed and eager.
"Hey son", His father replied lightly merriment in his voice. "How's the house coming along?"
"Papa..." Johnathan whispered, standing up slowly with rifle in hand. "There's a little girl here..."
Slowly, low giggling bellowed, increasing to a high, amused crackling that pierced Johnathan's heart. The old man heard from the other end, hearing his son whimpering as well, which grew more meek and panicked.
"She's been standing by the house the whole year. S-She ate the cat and Mr. Jones. S-She won't leave. She has me trapped!"
"...The talismans."
Johnathan frowned at his father's voice, feeling resentment linger in his feelings of fright.
"Are the talismans hanging up?"
"What does that have to do with—?"
"ARE the talismans hanging up?!"
"...No."
One solid bang caused the wooden door to crack. As she knocked harder, the little girl's giggling pierced the room, turning lower, demonically, and insane. A hand snaked through the wood, long, creepy fingers stretching towards the knob.
"Do you realize what you've done?!" His father yelled, sounding more frightened than Johnathan has been for the past year.
The knob twisted.
The door, having crept to life, let the nighttime light crawl along the wooden floor, and the wind, blowing stronger, brushed up his back. Johnathan's heart froze, feeling her presence behind him.
"That talisman was there to protect us...to protect you!"
The squeaking of the wooden floor bounced off his ear, and the giggling hushed, letting silence take over.
"That child is a—" The phone cut off.
Johnathan slowly looked into his mother's vanity mirror and saw her standing there, grinning impossibly wide; peering over his shoulder, he saw her gripping his shirt, staring back at him playfully. Shadows seeped into the room, creeping around him and along his legs, grabbing and pulling, dragging him to a horrid fate.
"Johnathan~~" Her voice uttered a dark whisper as the darkness seeped closer and along her tiny body, creating a putrid odor.
"Let's play..."
Johnathan felt a cold numbness and dropped the phone.
THE END