You've Helped Dora

Amy's POV-

     I glanced down at the table lamp with its limp cord tangling towards the wooden floor boards, that covered the entire floor except for the square patch of royal blue, shaggy rug around the windows and bed, a feeling of regret sunk like lead to the bottom of my stomach. I gulped down the bundle of crippling fear, it wasn't going to help in this situation.

     The hairs along my arm and at the back of my neck prickled to attention, I jerked to the left and dodged a hissing, fitting, Thing. Unfortunately, the momentum from my jerky actions landed me on the hard floor again, a slice of pain cut through my panic. I glimpsed down to see claret, red blood dribble down my arm before pooling on the flooring. I let out a startled yelp.

Dammit! Forgot about the glass!

     Remembering the predicament, I was in I got up and with blood still falling, I stumbled over to the corner of my room. The Thing was over where I had fallen, it was gurgling.

What the hell?

I took a step forward and paused.

Now what the hell am I doing?! I'm going over to that thing... That Thing is lapping my blood! This not good... Well, wasn't good from the start, but still not good! Ok. Ok... Priority, look for a weapon.

     Once more I searched around in the very limited lighting. My eyes landed on the lumpy shape of what seemed to be my backpack, it was a darker shade than the surroundings. Reaching out I grabbed hold of the object and a familiar bulky weight tugged down.

Definitely my backpack.

     I smiled for the first time since this damn ordeal happened.

Now I just must get rid of the Thing... Easier said than done.

    Albeit, when I looked back up to the location it was in, it was there any more. "Come on backpack, you've helped Dora, let's see if you can help me."

     There was a heavy silence in the room save the beating of my heart and the pulse that I swore could be heard throughout the whole house. Where the shadows moving? I heard a noise a spun around towards the source. The bedroom door creaked open and with a rush of adrenaline I swung and tossed my backpack at it. There was a thud, then a voice,

" Amy, what the fuck!" It came in a groan


"Ya! Who else did you think it was!? What's with all the noise?"

     I didn't answer, at that moment I felt something cold and wet land on shoulder and soak through my clothes, then again. I slowly looked up. The Thing was on the ceiling, clawing sinking into the plaster, and a jaw lined with barbed teeth dripping with saliva, its uneven eyes blinked.

     "Hey Amy... What's that?" His voice quivered like a struck arrow. The Thing stopped it's glaring at me, to turn its shriveled head at Zane, I didn't reply, truthfully, I was tempted to just say "It's your problem now, is what it is!" And then whoosh out the window gracefully.

      I shook my head; my bag was still by Zane and was currently my hope. Ignoring a petrified  Zane as I ran over to my sack stuffed with books, making sure to pick it up with my uncut arm. Behind me I could make out the tell-tale rasping breathing. I spun around and flung my backpack towards the ceiling, there was thud, then silence, for a long moment,

     "Is it dead?" Zane whispered, as if afraid to crack the silence, like the shattered glass on the wooden floor. I let out a puff of air, however my heart didn't calm down, "I don't know." The silence was to me was uncomfortable, to at least get away from it, I crept towards the location of my flung pack. The dark lump sat inanimate, on the floor. I nudged it with my foot.


     Crouching down I meant to pick my bag up when a movement under my bed drew my attention, two eyes blinked unevenly at me, shortly after they faded back into the gloom under the bed and the sound scuttling of claws like the crawling of rats in the rafters of an attic reached my ears, but despite that soon faded away.

     I could still smell it, rancid and rotten, even as it lessened, I stayed crouched down, the muscles burned in my legs with lactic acid.

     Zane had wandered over some time ago," Hey, you're bleeding." He gingerly touched my arm, the blood had dried in rivulets along the skin in thick dark, crimson marks. "Was, bleeding." I answered coldly. The adrenaline was wearing off and weariness was replacing, taking over like a slow sludge.

      Zane's hands reached out close to the skin on my face, "Amy, are you alright?"

     "Peachy... Just gonna... Take a little nap..." I breathed, curling up on the shaggy rug. Sleep was an alluring fantasy, and one that I eventually succumbed to. "Good night..."

Ariadne Black

#123 in Fantasy

Story about: supernatural, secrets, teen

Edited: 26.01.2019

Add to Library