EDIT: Okay, I have no clue what happened, but the entire coding for this chapter was hella screwed and I can't remember what I typed for my author's note. But I did want to address something. If you have a problem with my story, please keep it to yourself. My confidence in writing isn't the best and comments like 'you suck' kinda hurt a bit. If there is a problem with the story, please don't tell me 'this sucks' or 'this is f-ed up'. Tell me WHY it sucks or it's screwed up, okay? How am I supposed to improve when I have no direction to go in? Anyways, enjoy the story and if you don't, then don't read it.
All around the mulberry bush…
He was panting, clutching the shotgun closely. That damned nursery rhyme was playing again, and he could hear the small clicks of the music box as it played its haunting tune. He cursed himself for opening the damn jack in the box in the first place. It was dull and monochrome, as if it had sat for years upon years until it lost its color.
The monkey chased the weasel…
His breathing hitched, his body stilling while his heart pounded. He could hear footsteps. Slow, methodical footsteps. They approached his hiding spot with such causality, it made his heart slam harder into his ribcage. That… thing was looking for him. He could feel it just beyond the door of the closet.
The monkey thought t'was all in fun…
The footfalls stopped and so did his breathing. Everything was still… aside from that damned haunted melody. The small clicking of the music box. The slowly winding tune. He clutched at his chest in a panic as his heart raced.
The door began to slowly creak open, dull light beginning to flood the small room as he screamed, aiming the gun and shooting. A loud cracked throughout the building as the shot was fired. He could feel his chest burning, tears threatening to spill from his eyes from the pent up fear and adrenaline. Something wet was trailing down his abdomen, but he ignored it and looked around hastily for the monster that was after him.
His vision blurred and his breathing became labored. Why was he suddenly feeling such a great pain in his lower chest area? He looked down and widened his eyes in shock. A bullet hole. Right under his ribcage. Blood soaked through his shirt and he could feel his life beginning to leave. How had he shot himself when he was clearly aiming at that… creature?
He slumped against the wall, adrenaline leaving him as he stared blankly out the door, life fading from his eyes. A tall, lone figure grinned down at him, monochrome coloring striking him with fear yet again. That was the last thing he saw as his world painfully faded to black.
… Pop! goes the weasel…
