"Megan, I'm scared," Leslie whimpered.
"It's going to be OK," I said with a false sense of bravery. I was just as afraid as she was. "We'll both go downstairs. Go in your dad's room and stay there. I'll grab a couple of flashlights, make sure the place is secure, and then, I'll join you. OK?"
She nodded wearily. "OK," she agreed.
We both crept slowly downstairs. I knew this was a suicide mission. I knew I probably would be killed or worse. But I wasn't about to let my friend die.
She holed herself up in the bedroom, and I went to the kitchen to find some flashlights. It was difficult to see, to say the least, considering it was so dark. I finally managed to find two flashlights. Then, I heard Leslie scream. I bolted to the bedroom and crashed through the door.
"What happened?" I yelled.
"My dad!" she shrieked. "He's gone!"
I looked all through the bedroom. She was right. He was no where to be found.
"Maybe he just went to check the breaker," I suggested.
She shook her head furiously. "No, no, he's gone! I just know he is! He's gone! He's gone!" she howled madly.
"Get a hold of yourself!" I yelled. "You've got to if you want to stand any chance of getting out of this."
She nodded numbly. "You're right."
I shut the door and locked it. Then, I heard a low moan coming from behind me. I reopened the door and saw Leslie slumped against the bed.
"Leslie, what's wrong?!" I asked, panicked.
"I don't feel good," she groaned. "I'm all dizzy. My stomach hurts and my head feels light."
I helped her to the ground. "It'll be all right," I told her. "Just hang in there."
I went back outside and began to lock all the doors and windows. There was no way I was letting that thing get in here. I was making this place a fortress, hopeless as it may have been. I didn't know what I was up against. I'd never heard of anything like this happening before. I was just doing what I hoped was right.
I finished making my rounds about the house and returned to the room to check on Leslie. I stepped inside and looked all around, but she wasn't there. Then, I heard the floor above me creaking. Someone, or something, was moving around upstairs. I crept up the stairs as quietly as I could. I feared what I might find. I heard a gurgling sound coming from Leslie's room, and I saw that the door was slightly ajar. Even so, I couldn't see anything in the room.
"Leslie," I called out quietly, "is that you?"
There was no response, aside from a continuation of the sound. I crept closer to the door. I reached my arm out to lightly push the door open. Before my hand touched the door, the sound stopped. I froze in fear. I forced my arm closer and nudged the door open. My eyes widened in terror; anguish balled up in my gut. Leslie was lying unconscious on the floor. The man was standing over her.
"Get away from her!" I yelled at the man, taking a step closer.
The moment I did, my light went out. Panicked, I started banging the flashlight against my palm, cursing with every second it stayed unlit. Finally, after what seemed like forever, it came back on. I shined it around the room. They were gone.
"Shit," I moaned to myself.
I bolted downstairs and grabbed a knife from a kitchen drawer. I knew where they had gone, and I knew where I had to venture if I had any hope of saving my friend. They had left for the woods. Now, I was coming after them. I feared what I would find, but what choice did I have? It was either go after my friend and her captor, or save myself and leave her to die. I refused to choose the latter. So, I left into the woods to die.