All Chapters of Thirteen girls....: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Last night was the most heart-wrenching and frightening of my life, so much so that I can barely bring myself to contemplate it. By now I will have submitted what occurred during my visit to that cursed place I once called home; a visit which heralded the return of my childhood fears. No matter what foul thing befell me then, nothing could have prepared me for last night.After waking up to the chilling sight of that toy soldier, bitten in half, I found that the window to my bedroom was slightly ajar. On closer inspection it looked entirely as if the window had been prised open from outside. The latches were bent back, out of position as if subjected to an unrestricted, unbound brute force.From the outside looking in, I could see three indentations where the unwelcome housebreaker had used some kind of tool to leverage the window unnaturally away from its latch. What was peculiar about those markings was that they seemed to cut across the outside of the window frame l

It was distant, out of the way, almost obscured or smothered as if coming from...behind something. I strained my ears in an attempt to define it, but it was all too quiet. I remained in the bed for several more minutes, but with each passing second that almost inaudible sound grated on me, like broken glass on a raw nerve.Sleep was now abandoned, and with much frustration I decided to reluctantly investigate the source of the noise. I sat up in the bed and listened intently. It was unlike any other sound I had ever heard. Quiet, low, but as my mind adjusted to the noise I slowly began to piece its nature together. It was most certainly obscured by something, but the closest thing I could relate it to...was a repetitive murmur.I heard something similar previously when I was a child visiting my Grandmother in a nursing home. A place which had left an impression on me, seeing the wandering residents confused and of a fractured mind, meandering around the grounds like lo

Momentarily I froze, but love is a powerful motivator. Had I been on my own, fear would have taken me, shaking any possibility of resistance from my mind, but with Mary sleeping soundly in the same room as that thing; shielding someone I loved from that wretch was my only thought.I turned around slowly and as I did so, I could hear it wheezing, gasping, groaning for air. At a quarter turn, I could smell its breath, the stench of death hung in the air, plague-like and foul. Then, I heard another voice. It was not that horror in the darkness, but Mary. She let out a scream which startled and distressed me to my very core. A scream which will haunt me for the rest of my days.I turned quickly and laid eyes on it, but it wasn't behind me, it was on the bed! It writhed and rasped, wheezing in delight, its bony spine curved with the anguish of countless years protruding through a ragged, torn piece of cloth which hung loosely over its torso, in a vain attempt to appear almo

I am shaking as I write this. I was released by the police less than two hours ago and I am compelled to record the events of the past day and night as quickly and as accurately as possible. In some ways I want to forget, but I know that I cannot, I know that I should not. For my own sanity I must divulge what has happened, it is far too important. Should I ever allow myself to be swayed by the mechanical, rational nature of the world once again, these words should serve to remind me that what is unseen is both mysterious, and frightening.After Mary left, I knew that I had lost her forever, but rather than be consumed by depression and inaction, I was invigorated by one purpose, by one thought, by one idea that I knew I had to carry out. I had to destroy that thing, for I could not allow the chance that it may one day hurt my loved ones, or desecrate the innocence of another child.I also knew that I faced death, but feeling that I had already lost everything, that wa

It pulled itself in close to me and through a shard of light provided by the moon, I saw its face. Skin hung from its jagged features. Glassy eyes stared deep into me as its grin spread up through its face, unnaturally wide as the result of its half rotten flesh, exposing the rotten muscles, broken teeth and sinews of its rancid smile beneath.Pulling closer it opened its mouth revealing a wet and putrid tongue which could be seen through part of its missing jaw. Wheezing, breathing heavily, a foul stench which stung my eyes and filled my mouth elicited a response from me as I wretched, my body attempting to expel its poisonous fumes, and as I did so it stopped for a moment, and then cackled to itself; happy, content. Staring into its icy cold eyes, it yet gave the impression of an afflicted and increasingly weak old man. It was still incredibly strong, but it seemed as though it had lost some of its potency.Perhaps leaving that elongated room had somehow affected it?

Instead of being shocked, a garbled laugh emanated through its broken teeth as it thrust its fingers deeper into my mouth. I felt its cold, hard flesh scraping against the inside of my throat pleading without words for it to stop.In our darkest of moments, we sometimes find our true strength. I rolled to my side using its weight against it and finally, managed to break free. I fell onto the floor. Its long reach grasping at my feet, I kicked and screamed and at last was free. It stared at me, only for a moment. Rising up on top of the bed, its brittle bones cracking under its own force, it now towered tall and gaunt ready to pounce.Since I was a child I had been a victim. It had terrorised me, taken my innocence, attacked Mary and broken my life.I would not stand for it any more.Sometimes the most dangerous prey is the one who can out think you, the one that lulls you into a false sense of dominance or superiority, the one who has conquered any fear o

Everyone knew the stories of the monsters that were supposed to hide in the dark in closets or under beds. Some young children even believed in it. But Tim knew that there were no such so-called monsters. At 20, he was clearly too old for that. So he happily went off to take care of his little cousin, who still believed in monsters. His aunt and her husband wanted to go to the theater that evening and since his cousin was scared by himself, they asked Tim to take care of the little one. Tim liked to do it. His aunt paid him well and a few more bills in your pocket were always useful at his age. For Tim, it was actually very easy money as his cousin was already in bed when he arrived. Tim parked his bike in front of his aunt's house. Then he ran through the garden and rang the bell. His aunt opened the door for him and after a short greeting, they went together into the living room, where Tim also met his aunt's husband. After a short exchange of words, phone num

Tina still had an hour to drive. She was on the way to see her friend Mara, whom she hadn't seen for over 2 years. The train rattled on all the time. Slowly her eyes were heavy and Tina decided to sleep a little more. She stood in front of a small house. To the left of it, a staircase led inside. To the right was a garden with flowers and an old swing. Tina ran down the path around the swing and saw a staircase that led down into the house. She opened the door carefully, but everything was dark down there. She wanted to go back when she saw them. She stood a little beside her and looked at Tina in silence. Although there was a light wind, neither her long hair nor the summer dress she was wearing moved. Then she ran to the cellar stairs without a word and went down. Before she disappeared into the dark, the girl turned to Tina and looked at her pleadingly. Tina followed her hesitantly. To her astonishment, she could see in the dark. There was dust on the steps,

Tina spent the rest of the morning in the garden. Again and again, her gaze was drawn to the old swing. So she walked slowly towards the wooden frame. The wood was rotten, nobody would want to sit on the swing anymore. Tina took a closer look at one of the wooden pegs. Somebody had scratched something in the wood. There was a name. It had become quite illegible over the years. But after a while Tina was able to decipher the name Clarissa. Was that the name of the child she was standing in front of the swing? Perhaps old Frau Müller could tell her more about it that afternoon. The afternoon had come and the two women ran across the street to an even smaller house than Mara lived in. In the open door stood an old, bent woman. Her eyes, however, looked very young. She smiled friendly at the young women. Mara introduced Tina to her and followed the woman inside, where tea and biscuits were already waiting on a small table. After they sat down, Mara explained to

Mara lent her the flashlight. But she didn't want to go down into the basement. So Tina went alone. In front of her lay the stairs that she had already walked down in her dreams. The dark, large room was also in front of her. Tina took a few steps and stood in front of the shelf. As in the dream, there were many things on it. She carefully illuminated everything with her flashlight when suddenly a box flew to the floor. She bent down for it and found a key inside. Was this the key to the attic? She wanted to test it right away. Back in the house, Mara only started laughing when she saw Tina. The dust and cobwebs hung everywhere. But Tina didn't care. She showed her friend the key she found in the basement. Now Mara was curious too. Together they ran upstairs and stood in front of the door. With a trembling hand, Tina put the key in the lock. Something stuck at first, but then the door opened. In front of them was a staircase that led upwards. As it was getting d