the wind from the door,” Anna said just before it brushed past her face once more.
Instead of following her instinct to escape, Anna ran for the dining room. She didn’t know what she expected to see when she got there. Fear started to pump through her body, her mind. She turned the corner and looked at the dining room door. She stopped and collapsed to her knees . . . with relief. The door was closed and locked. The chairs were still wedged as firmly in place against it as they had been when she first barricaded the door the night before last.
Anna rose to her feet, happy Tom hadn’t been there to see what had happened. “He already thinks you’re loony tunes,” Anna said as she walked upstairs to change. “And girl,” she admitted. “He may be right.”
Anna walked briskly into her room before freezing in her tracks. “No,” she whispered. “No!” she screamed. Anna saw all 12 music boxes lined up neatly on her bed. The black one with the rose was open and started to play.
Chapter 7
Anna ran but she felt as though she was moving in slow motion. It was like the dreams she had as a child of being chased, but not being able to move her legs fast enough to escape. The dreams always started with her running on solid ground. Then, she would be moving through ankle deep sand, then shin deep dirt, and finally knee deep mud. She would always wake up just before whatever it was that was pursuing her caught up. But this was no dream. This was very, very real.
Anna tried to force her legs to pump faster, but she still seemed to be moving ever so slowly out of her room and toward the stairs. She closed her bedroom door behind her. She heard it reopen before she was three steps away.
Anna didn’t look back. It was behind her. She could feel it. Feel him. Feel them. She wasn’t sure. Anna finally made it to the stairs and started bounding down two steps at a time. She tripped with four stairs to go and tumbled the rest of the way to the hard floor below. From where she lay, Anna had a perfect view of the top of the stairs . . . and the man who stood there, smiling.
“Come to me, Anna. Come to me.”
The man was tall and thin. His hair was black and slicked straight back. He was wearing a long black coat and some sort of boots that looked wet and stained. He held his hands behind his back.
Anna looked directly into his black eyes, which appeared to hold no soul. Still, his stare pierced her very being and she couldn’t look away.
“Come to me now, my darling. Come.”
Anna watched as his hands slowly appeared from behind his back. In his right he held a large blade knife. In his left, she saw her own severed head. The man swung it back and forth by the hair. Blood splattered like holy water against the walls as he moved forward. Anna scrambled to her feet and ran for the door. Fear had become her best friend.
“Come to me.”
Anna heard the voice getting closer. As she opened the door, she felt the voice whispering in her ear.
“Come to me.”
Anna fell out of the house and down her three porch steps. She looked back to see her front door opening wider. The man stood in the doorway. In the outside light Anna could clearly see that the blade of the knife was bright red and the boots were covered with blood. The man drew his left arm back and then swung it forward, releasing the hair from his hand. Anna saw her own head flying toward her. She saw her own eyes open and fill with fear.
Anna turned away. She ran for her car so fast that when she got there she couldn’t stop and ran directly into the right front fender. She rolled up onto, and then over and off of the hood, and, as if planned, in one movement opened the driver’s side door and slid inside.
As Anna fumbled with her keys, which as usual she had left in the ignition, she glanced back at the door to her house. The man was gone, no head rolled on the pavement, and the door was now closed. Anna turned the key and the car
Instead of following her instinct to escape, Anna ran for the dining room. She didn’t know what she expected to see when she got there. Fear started to pump through her body, her mind. She turned the corner and looked at the dining room door. She stopped and collapsed to her knees . . . with relief. The door was closed and locked. The chairs were still wedged as firmly in place against it as they had been when she first barricaded the door the night before last.
Anna rose to her feet, happy Tom hadn’t been there to see what had happened. “He already thinks you’re loony tunes,” Anna said as she walked upstairs to change. “And girl,” she admitted. “He may be right.”
Anna walked briskly into her room before freezing in her tracks. “No,” she whispered. “No!” she screamed. Anna saw all 12 music boxes lined up neatly on her bed. The black one with the rose was open and started to play.
Chapter 7
Anna ran but she felt as though she was moving in slow motion. It was like the dreams she had as a child of being chased, but not being able to move her legs fast enough to escape. The dreams always started with her running on solid ground. Then, she would be moving through ankle deep sand, then shin deep dirt, and finally knee deep mud. She would always wake up just before whatever it was that was pursuing her caught up. But this was no dream. This was very, very real.
Anna tried to force her legs to pump faster, but she still seemed to be moving ever so slowly out of her room and toward the stairs. She closed her bedroom door behind her. She heard it reopen before she was three steps away.
Anna didn’t look back. It was behind her. She could feel it. Feel him. Feel them. She wasn’t sure. Anna finally made it to the stairs and started bounding down two steps at a time. She tripped with four stairs to go and tumbled the rest of the way to the hard floor below. From where she lay, Anna had a perfect view of the top of the stairs . . . and the man who stood there, smiling.
“Come to me, Anna. Come to me.”
The man was tall and thin. His hair was black and slicked straight back. He was wearing a long black coat and some sort of boots that looked wet and stained. He held his hands behind his back.
Anna looked directly into his black eyes, which appeared to hold no soul. Still, his stare pierced her very being and she couldn’t look away.
“Come to me now, my darling. Come.”
Anna watched as his hands slowly appeared from behind his back. In his right he held a large blade knife. In his left, she saw her own severed head. The man swung it back and forth by the hair. Blood splattered like holy water against the walls as he moved forward. Anna scrambled to her feet and ran for the door. Fear had become her best friend.
“Come to me.”
Anna heard the voice getting closer. As she opened the door, she felt the voice whispering in her ear.
“Come to me.”
Anna fell out of the house and down her three porch steps. She looked back to see her front door opening wider. The man stood in the doorway. In the outside light Anna could clearly see that the blade of the knife was bright red and the boots were covered with blood. The man drew his left arm back and then swung it forward, releasing the hair from his hand. Anna saw her own head flying toward her. She saw her own eyes open and fill with fear.
Anna turned away. She ran for her car so fast that when she got there she couldn’t stop and ran directly into the right front fender. She rolled up onto, and then over and off of the hood, and, as if planned, in one movement opened the driver’s side door and slid inside.
As Anna fumbled with her keys, which as usual she had left in the ignition, she glanced back at the door to her house. The man was gone, no head rolled on the pavement, and the door was now closed. Anna turned the key and the car
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