Power Outage - 6/15

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Brian
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Power Outage - 6/15

Postby Brian » Tue Jun 15, 2010 7:31 am


Brian
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Power Outage - 6/15

Postby Brian » Tue Jun 15, 2010 7:31 am

Storms have knocked out the power. You find the flashlight and make shadow bunnies on the wall, but you can tell the kids are not amused. So instead you decide to tell a scary story. Create a story that would scare even the toughest of teenagers.

You can post your response (750 words or fewer) here.

Castle
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Re: Power Outage - 6/15

Postby Castle » Tue Jun 15, 2010 11:09 am

I pursed my lips defiantly.
Drake gently shoved Lilly, my daughter, chiding her. “You look so cute when you’re scared.”
Did Drake forget that I was sitting a few paces from him on the cement floor? I, Lilly’s father, did not appreciate his flirting with my innocent child. If Johnny did it, I wouldn’t mind all that much, Johnny is a good kid. But, Drake, he is… ugh.
I spoke up, “Fine, Drake, if you don’t think shadow puppets are good enough, then I guess I’ll tell the tale of Sam.”
Murmurs sounded around me from the teenagers. They had heard the mention of Sam before, but none of them knew the legend. They were eager, and fell quiet in seconds, all awaiting my deep voice to start the ancient tale of this small town.
I felt a tremble capture my vulnerable body as I thought about it. I looked around the room. “Turn off your flashlights.”
“But.” Drake managed one word before Lilly scoffed.
“But, Drake, You look so cute when you’re scared!” Her voice practically dripped with sarcasm. I raised her well.
“I’m not scared!”
“Then turn your flashlight off.”
Click.
I kept mine on and shone it under my face. The rest of the old house was dark. There was a power outage. The monstrous rain storm forced all of Lilly’s friends to stay the night at my house.
I took a deep breath. “Samantha Collins lived in this very house fifty years ago.”
Drake interrupted with a dull voice. “I thought Sam was a dude.”
I tried my best to make an intimidating glare. “It’s short for Samantha. Do you want me to tell this story or not?”
Drake shrugged and crossed his legs.
I continued. “Some say it is a ghost story, others say it is historical fact. You decide for yourselves. The spring of 1957 brought some of the worst rain storms known to Brandy County. On the eighth day of the fifth month, Samantha Collins disappeared. No trace of her could be found, and after one month of investigation, they gave up the search for her.”
Johnny thought I couldn’t see him in the dark, but I saw very clearly him reach in front of him and grasp Lilly’s hand. I tried not to smile in approval or it might ruin the mood.
“On the eighth day of the sixth month, exactly one month after Sam’s disappearance, her best friend, Sarah, went missing. The investigation was short lived. Late that night they found Sarah’s body in the basement of Sam’s home with the word sinner etched into her chest with a knife.
“Every month, on the eighth day, someone would disappear, and later turn up with the same word carved into their chests.”
I paused and watched a shudder pass through the small crowd of teenagers.
“According to legend, on the eighth of every month there is a huge storm, and on that night, some evil is committed in the county of Brandy. Most of it has been deemed accidental, such as car crashes or gas leaks, but they all happened on the eighth of the month. I don’t believe it is coincidence.”
Lilly’s terrified squeaky voice dared to speak, “Isn’t today May eighth?”
I nodded slowly. “Tonight is the fiftieth anniversary of Sam’s disappearance. I wonder how it will be celebrated.”
I could see Drake trembling through the darkness. He clicked on his flashlight. “Okay, that’s a funny ghost story. Nothing like that ever happens around here.”
Johnny turned his flashlight on as well. “Remember Trevor’s logging accident last month? Wasn’t that on the eighth? And didn’t your dog die the month before that, Drake?”
Drake didn’t answer. His eyes were glued to something on the ground next to him.
Lilly pushed him lightly. “You scared, Drake?”
“Did you guys use red paint anywhere in your house?” Drake started breathing heavily.
My joking attitude turned serious in seconds. “No, we’ve never used red paint. We kept the colors of the walls when we bought the house.”
“Then what is this red stain on the concrete?”

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Re: Power Outage - 6/15

Postby Mark44 » Tue Jun 15, 2010 3:45 pm

This would have to happen now. I thought, clearly perturbed, the

rain pounding down hard against the cement streets and sidewalks

outside. The house darkened due to the storm knocking out the power.

Once I was able to locate and get my right hand wrapped around

the handle of a flashlight, I decided to humor the kids I was charged of

babysitting by making shadow bunnies on the wall before me.

Unfortunately, this did not bring said kids much amusement.

“Can Jenny and I go to bed?” Kevin, the youngest in age of the kids

I was sitting for, squealed out in a high pitched voice. “Yeah!” Kevin’s

older sister Jennifer instantly followed up with. “Having no television

is no fun!”

“All right you two,” I answered in a slight exasperated voice.

“Since you two are bored, how about I break you out of that boredom by

telling you a scary story, one which I can guarantee will knock your

socks off.

This of course filled Kevin and Jenny’s nine and ten year old

faces with pure excitement.

“Yes, yes, tell us a scary story!” Kevin said in a highly excited

voice.

“Fine, you got it,” I instantly responded, making myself

comfortable on the sofa. Kevin and Jenny quickly joining me.

“You know my friend Nicole?”

“Yeah?” Kevin said, still using his still excited voice to spew

this out.

“Well the reason she hasn’t bothered stopping by tonight is

because she was just killed in a car accident on the way here.”

All of a sudden, the doorbell started ringing. “Hold on, let me go

see who that is,” I said, rising to my feet and quickly heading over to

the front door. Getting it unlocked and opened, revealing none other

then Nicole standing just past the doorway, soaking wet, my ears were

filled with terrified screams and footsteps rushing up the stairs.

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RE: Power Outage - 6/15

Postby closch » Wed Jun 16, 2010 7:49 am

“OK Mom, enough with the bunnies.” announced my thirteen-year-old daughter.

"Yeah Mom,” my fifteen-year-old son echoed. “I might have liked that ten years ago, but sorry, your shadow puppets are rather lame. I wish the hydro would get back on, I need to get back online. I’m missing some good stuff.” He continued as he threw his hands in the air.

The windows rattled with the force of the next bout of thunder, as if the panes themselves were shaking a collective fist at the storm that had deprived us of the comforts we all took for granted. I gave my mostly-good children a look; a smile. One you would give a small child in a stroller, or perhaps a puppy that was rolling around the yard.

“You thought those were bunnies? I forget how young you both are, how some of the events of our past were long before your time; how we’ve protected you, much the same way my parents protected me. We never did share the stories of the Kintook with you. Not when you were small, it would have been too frightening. After all, they do tend to prey on the little ones. Don’t get me wrong, they’ll take whoever is available. But they always preferred the children."

“Kintook?” they responded almost in unison.

“What are you talking about Mom?” my daughter finished for them both.

With a soft and slow voice, I began the story.

“It was on a night much like this that I first learned about the Kintook.”

I moved the burning candles to the centre of the dining room table where we had gathered when the power went out.

“Creatures of the night they were called. Demons of darkness. They remained hidden during the day and we could almost pretend they didn’t exist. We could act as life was normal and we were safe. As the sun lowered itself through the evening sky, however, things changed; people became cautious, guarded. Most were afraid of the night. After all, that’s when they came out to feed. And take the young.

“They were about yeah high,” I explained as I placed my hand about eighteen inches or so above the top of the light oak table.

“The dark cloaks they wore made it easy for them to hide in the night, to shift from room to room without being detected. I’ve always been grateful I never laid eyes on the face of a Kintook, if you could call it a face. I’ve heard that people change once they do; that they are never quite the same again.

Gray melting skin and intense, piercing eyes, a strange pasty combination of gold mottled with red. An intense black hole in place of a nose sat just above a blood-lined mouth. Ragged yellow teeth that made the sharpest pin seem dull. And their hands. I’ve heard horrible things about their hands. Once they had you in their grasp there was no hope. Long crooked fingers that began as stumps of graying flesh shifting at their tips to black rotting nails of death.

The smell of them is said to be the worst that one could ever encounter. Like dark, moldy mud. The sour scent of earth surrounding a corpse just beginning to rot.

Sometimes the stench would hit you before you heard the shuffle in the closet. Sometimes the shuffle came first. Either way the result was the same. No one had time to go for help. There was nowhere to run. A child was gone. And life changed forever. All that was ever left behind was a small pile of molting skin from the creature.”

As the sound of angry thunder continued to rumble from above and the candle flames cast their eerie glow, I told them, “It was said that the only words ever heard from the vile jaws of the Kintook were, “Night, night, sleep tight”.

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Re: Power Outage - 6/15

Postby knob » Wed Jun 16, 2010 10:15 am

If the power goes out, it’s going to go out on a black, stormy night, not on a warm afternoon. So at midnight with a thunderstorm rolling in and the power flickering, there wasn’t exactly anywhere for Stephen and Kate to go. They’d been watching a pretty suspenseful movie, but I wanted all the electronics unplugged until things calmed down. They stayed put on the couch, and I thought they were laughing a little nervously about the lightning.

So I decided to give them a little to think about. “Some transformer somewhere is giving them fits,” I said.

“You think that’s what it is?” Stephen asked.

“I hope so,” I answered.

“What do you mean, you hope so?” asked Kate.

“Well,” I said, “it’s possible to cut the power to the block deliberately, if you know how to do it. Takes a strong man, though.”

“Really? Is there some kind of shutoff?” asked Stephen.

I pointed out the front window. A streetlight half a block away threw a pale blue cast over the lawns across the street. The bush in front of Bob Samuels’ house was a dark blob. “Big switch under that bush,” I said.

“You’re kidding,” said Stephen.

“Hey,” I said, “I’ve lived in this house my whole life. I ought to know some of the secrets. Anyways, when I was about your age, someone used that switch. Didn’t turn out very well for my best friend, either.”

They both were silent. I kept a straight face, but chuckled to myself. “Danny Brinton. Lived in the house next door. We were like brothers.” I leaned back a little. “Boy, I haven’t thought about Danny in years.”

“What happened to him?” asked Kate.

“I’m getting to that. It was a night a lot like this one. Biggest thunderstorm I’d ever been in. I was sitting right here counting the seconds between the lightning and the thunder. There was one that was right around ten seconds. The next flash, the power went out. It stayed out the whole rest of the night. The next day, someone discovered that the switch had been flipped.”

“But what happened to Danny?” pressed Stephan.

“Murdered,” I said, as ominously as I could. “His whole family. With a pipe wrench.”

“That night?” asked Kate, wide-eyed.

“That very night,” I said. “They pieced it together later. The guy hid behind that bush. He was doing the same thing I was doing—counting the time between the lightning and the thunder. When it got to ten seconds, he was ready.

“With the next flash of lightning, he threw the switch. Then he sprinted across the street, around Danny’s house, and opened the back door just as the thunder hit. Danny’s family never heard him come in.”

“Naw,” said Stephan.

“They found his tracks on the lawn between our houses. Running flat out. Slipped a little on the turn around the house, but still made it. There was even an imprint of the head of the pipe wrench where he must have used it to steady himself.”

“Whoa,” said Kate. She and Stephan were now peering behind them in the direction of the kitchen—and the back door. Another lightning flash, and the power flickered again.

“Did they ever catch they guy?” asked Stephan.

“Catch him?” I replied. “No. They were looking for a very fast runner, and they never found him. In fact, the police had a few track runners come and make the very same sprint. Nobody every got below 12 seconds. The other boys and I, we did it for years afterward—except we ran to my door instead. It’s about the same distance. Fastest I ever did it was 16 seconds, but I was never a fast runner.”

“From the bush to our back door in ten seconds?” Stephan repeated. I could tell he was calculating it. Seeing if his own legs would take him that fast. Every boy who heard the story wanted to try the sprint. He stood up and peered out the window at the bush.

That’s when the lightning flashed—and the lights went out. Ten seconds later, there was an enormous boom of thunder.

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RE: Power Outage - 6/15

Postby Monkeypants » Wed Jun 16, 2010 10:46 am

Shelly rolled her eyes. "Mom, you're embarrassing me." Her two friends, Kate and Tina, giggled and leaned into each other.

I relaxed my fingers and the bunny on the wall melted into a despondent turtle’s head. "Alright," I said. But for the flashlight cutting sharp angles from the table to the wall, the kitchen lay in blackness. A crack of lighting, like tearing plywood, ripped across the sky, punctuated with a crash and growl that shook the windows. The girls stiffened in their chairs. Rain pelted against the glass in torrents.

I took a sip of smooth Pinot Noir from the glass in front of me. "You know, shadow figures go all the way back to pre-history," I said. "On stormy nights like this, people huddled by the fire in the back of caves and used their hands to tell stories, to mimic the animals they hunted, or the ones that hunted them..."

"Really?" Kate asked.

Shelly smacked her shoulder. "Don't encourage her."

"But that is not all they did," I continued, my voice dropping to a rasp, I looked about the dark kitchen as if to protect a dark secret from the prying ears of the night. I paused to let the next bolt finish its dangerous business. The storm was very close. Shelly looked bored, but I could tell Kate and Tina appreciated the distraction.

"Some believe that spirits lived in the shadows, and by honoring the spirits of the animals around them, they would be protected from harm,” I said. “If the beast was pleased, it would bring good fortune.”

“That’s why cavemen are extinct,” Shelly scoffed.

I leaned into the bean of the light, eyes narrowed. “But I believe that the shadow calls the spirit of what you form.”

“So, if you make an antelope, an antelope would show up?” Tina said.

“Yeah sure,” Shelly mocked and curled her hands into claws. “And if you make a tiger, it will come and rip your guts out.”

Tina and Kate looked at me. I nodded. “And if you make something else… something unknown… something evil,” I whispered, “…it will come too.”

“That’s total bull, Mom.”

“No, it is not,” I said. “I studied about it in college, and one night, very much like this, with the power out and the storm all around, my friends and I…” I looked around the room again. “We tried it.”

“No way!” Kate mouthed.

“What happened?” Tina chirped.

Lightening torn through the sky once again, terminating with an instantaneous clap. I took another long sip of wine and leaned back out of the light. After a moment, scanning their faces, I said, “It worked.”

“Do it!” Tina blurted and then covered her mouth with both hands.

Shelly sighed.

I looked at Shelly and raised an eyebrow.

She waved me off and looked away. “It’s your funeral.”

“OK,” I said. “But be warned, this is ancient mojo. This goes back to the fabric of life itself.

The two girls giggled in anticipation.

I readjusted my chair, flexed my fingers and eased them into the illuminating beam of the flashlight. “Watch the shadows, not my hands,” I told them. “Always watch the shadows.” Then I began.

On the wall, the familiar lumps and tentacles of knuckle, finger and hand flowed together and moved in a rhythmic dance. I started out with familiar shapes; the profile of a wild dog, a crocodile, a giraffe ambling across the savannah, a leopard baring its fangs, the cold eyes of a serpent watching its prey.

I could see the awe seeping into the girl’s faces. Even Shelly seemed amused. “Watch the shadows,” I reminded them.

The silhouette on the wall changed from the natural to the unnatural. The form took on ominous characteristics; curled horns, a knotted brow, a gnarled and twisted body; two reptilian eyes; then four; a flicking trident forked tongue. The shadow then settled into a crouched hulking mass. Slowly, it began to unfold and extend its ghastly limbs. Reptilian wings unfurled from its back and ophidian eyes opened on its deformed crown as if awakening from an ancient slumber. A small grisly mouth peeled open and a high shrill whine erupted from it…

I heard a gasp from across the table. It was Shelly who first noticed that my hands were in my lap.

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RE: Power Outage - 6/15

Postby BrodyH74 » Sat Jun 19, 2010 4:52 am

“What’s that supposed to be, daddy?”
“You mean you can’t tell?”
“No.”
Henry sighed. The power had been out for almost two hours now. His attempt at making shadow puppets to keep his twin five year old daughters entertained had failed miserably.
“It’s a bunny rabbit.”
“Oh.”
“I tell you what, let’s try something else. What would you two like to do? Play a board game?”
“Tell us a story.”
“Yeah, a story!”
Even in the thin glow of his flashlight he could see the excitement in his little girls eyes. He didn’t want to disappoint them, but he was pretty sure he was even worse at making up stories than he was at making shadow puppets. But as he sat cross-legged on the floor of their room he knew he’d have to give it a try.
“All right. What kind of story?”
“A scary story!”
“A scary story? Are you sure? It’s awful close to bedtime. I’d hate for you two to have trouble sleeping.”
“Oh daddy.”
“All right…let me think.”
He stared outside into the darkness, barely able to see the sharp fingers of the trees just outside the window. Even the stars and moon seemed to have lost their power tonight. He desperately searched for inspiration, fearing he was going to fail his little girls again. Suddenly, an idea drifted in through the window and his eyes opened wide in excitement. He placed the flashlight under his face to give it a nice spooky look as so many others had done when getting ready to tell a scary story on a dark night.
“OH! Okay. How about this? Once upon a time, not too very long ago there were two little girls.”
“Did they look like us?”
“Maybe. Now stop interrupting. They were walking home all by themselves on a dark night very much like this one. A light breeze brushed against the trees and made them sway back and forth, their dead brown leaves sounding like big sand filled rattles. As they walked along the sidewalk they had to be very careful as it was full of cracks and many of its sections were heaved or sunk down into the damp earth.”
He looked at them, and could see that he had their full attention. He smiled, and with the flashlight tucked under his chin he looked like a ghoul getting ready to enjoy his evening meal.
“Suddenly they heard a voice whisper from behind them say, ‘I’m going to get you.’ They little girls looked at each other, told each other that they weren’t scared, but started to walk a little faster. Then they heard it again…a little closer and a little louder. ‘I’m going to get you.’ Now they WERE scared and started to walk even faster. But they heard it again. This time it was right behind them and it shouted, ‘I’M GOING TO GET YOU!’ They turned and saw two red glowing eyes in the darkness behind them!”
The eyes of his daughters were huge; he could tell he had them hooked. He went on, his voice tight, speaking quickly, trying to add to the tension.
“They screamed and ran as fast as they could, down the cracked and uneven sidewalk as fast as their little legs could carry them. Right into their house, up the stairs, and into their bedroom where they locked the door and hid under their covers.”
He turned and locked the door behind him, hoping it added to the overall effect. Then he looked back at them, and tried to grin his most evil grin. Then he continued, his voice hushed and slow.
“But there was something the little girls didn’t know.”
“What was that, daddy?”
“They didn’t know that the monster was…ALREADY IN THE ROOM!”
He switched off his flashlight, darkness swallowing his face. He roared as his eyes started to glow bright red and he dove at his screaming daughters. The claws growing from the ends of the fingers finding their rib cages as he pressed his weight down on top of them, holding them down. They screamed as they struggled and managed to pull the big comforter they had been wrapped up in down off of their faces.
They laughed and giggled as their father tickled them with his claws, their eyes glowing red in the darkness, long canines almost glowing as they begged him to stop.
“Okay, okay. Time for bed you little monsters.”
“We love you, daddy.”
“I love you too.”

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RE: Power Outage - 6/15

Postby Mariah28 » Mon Jun 21, 2010 3:59 pm

I guess you guys are too old for bunnies in the flash light beam, so let me tell you a story, my Uncle Simon told me back, in the day, when I was a teenager. He told me to stay out of the woods along the Loch Raven Reservoir. A hermit lived deep in the woods in a broken down shack hidden under the trees. Uncle Simon said he saw the hermit once on a night much like tonight. He said the hermit wore a dark coat with a hood that covered his face. He lived alone and was more animal than human. The hermit was a cannibal and roamed the woods in search of young teenagers to prey on. They say he hung his victims in tree to gut them. Then he’d take the body home and cook it in a pot. People say he carried an oil lamp as he wandered under the trees looking for his next victim. Uncle Simon said to run if I ever saw a yellow light in Loch Raven and never look back.

When I told Uncle Simon’s tale to the kids I went to school with, we didn’t believe Uncle Simon for one minute and laughed it off. He just told that story to keep us from going onto the Reservoir property after dark. Loch Raven was popular as the best make-out spot in the county with its densely wooded property. There were nights when it was hard to find a secluded parking spot. I never went, but I knew a number of guys who took their dates there regularly.

Like I said, Uncle Simon’s story didn’t scare anyone, at least not until Tommy Sanders came to school and told us over lunch he saw the yellow light in the woods. He’d been making out with Amy Peterson when a summer storm blew up. Through the rain, he saw a man with a yellow oil lantern slowly move through the trees. When the man saw Tommy’s car, he walked right up to it and jiggled the door handle to get the door open. Tommy’s description of the guy matched what Uncle Simon saw. Tommy said he wore a dark coat with a hood that shielded his face. Scared out of his wits, Tommy said he started the car and nearly ran the hermit over to get out of the woods.

Jimmy Parker said his dog went missing in a storm and two days later, he found the dog along the shore below the dam, and the thing of it was half of the dog was missing. It didn't look like an animal had chewed on it. Someone had gutted and sliced the poor dog with a knife and left the remains in the stream.

If that wasn’t enough to keep us in line, Billy Jones chimed in and said he went to Loch Raven with Lisa Martin after the movies one night. They were getting hot and heavy and just as he was about to get her into the back seat, she let out a scream and pointed to the yellow light in the woods. Billy said he watched that light for a while and when it disappeared behind the trees, went back to coaxing Lisa into the backseat. While she was scared, she allowed him to lead her from the front seat to the back. Lisa had a reputation at school and Billy was determined to get to second base. He said he was just about there when the weather turned stormy. The wind blew branches down on the car roof. One of the branches scraped across the roof, and made a swishing sound as the wind blew it back and forth. Billy told Lisa he couldn’t drive home in the storm and went back to working on second base. Billy said he made it to second and was running to third, but Lisa would have none of it. When Billy and the storm gave up, he opened the back seat door, and he looked to see that instead of a tree branch there was a man hanging in the tree. The tip of his shoes scrapped along the rooftop in the wind.

You might wanna think twice before taking a young lady to Loch Raven for a little hanky-panky after dark. The Hermit still lives out there in the woods somewhere. Do you know Joe Brocks? Joe said someone saw a yellow light in the woods just last week.

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RE: Power Outage - 6/15

Postby kapman33 » Mon Jun 21, 2010 4:17 pm

Suddenly the lights flickered, and then went out completely. All around me it was black, complete darkness. I couldn't see three inches in front of my face. I listened to the sound of the rain smashing down outside, beating against the roof violently. I was afraid. Very afraid. I don't know why, but I just had this bad feeling tearing through me. I mean, hell, I'm not four years old, I'm an adult, so what's to be scared of? Being alone? Being in the dark? The storm? I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but something was eerily wrong.
I went into the kitchen, feeling my way along the wall for guidance. I reached on top of the fridge and grabbed the flash-light, clicked it on. I begin to make my way towards the den, thinking I will look out the large bay window and see how it is outside. The rain is coming down in buckets, the wind is screaming and the sky looks like a mixture of anger and rage. I decide to sit on the couch and just wait it out.
As the minutes tick by, they begin to seem like hours. I feel like some god awful fate is waiting for me in the darkness. I don't know why, just do. Suddenly I hear a loud bang in the hallway. I jump from the couch and flash the light in that direction. Nothing there but black. Nothing. I sit back down and figure something must have gotten knocked over by the wind. Again my mind races. I try to think about something other than this storm and that god-damned rain, but I can't. I am becoming obsessed with it, it is consuming me. I try to calm down, but my heart is racing. Suddenly I hear another bang on the side door. I run into the kitchen and grab a butcher knife from the drawer. I walk toward the door, keeping the light aimed directly in front of me. Nothing, blackness. Darkness. Fear. As I get to the door, it suddenly flies open! I thrust the knife forward as I scream and drop the flash-light. I feel the knife tear into something soft. But it digs in hard and it digs in deep. I turn and run back into the kitchen, trying to get as far from the door as possible. I grab another knife and suddenly the lights flicker, then come back on.
I take a deep breath and fall to the floor in a sitting position. I have blood on my hand, and now I'm curious what the hell I just stabbed. I slowly walked back to the side door. There lying on the ground with a butcher knife sticking out of her chest was my girl-friend Gina. She must have decided to come home early from work because of the storm. Now she was dead. I had killed her.

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