The Taking of Eleanor Ainsworth

Chapter 8

Eleanor wake up dear.

Ella bolted up right and was greeted by the familiar pink walls of her bedroom. She peered around, everything was just how she left it, her books laying open on the small white desk underneath her window, the little desk lamp left on. She sighed in relief and laid back down.

Eleanor my child,

The desk light flicked off, engulfing Ella in darkness. She sat up again and frantically looked around an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. As a child Ella used to wake in the middle of night and cry out, wishing for the sun to rise and illuminate the black sky with its orange glow. The darkness scared Ella, her brain would run like clockwork at that time of day, her imagination running wild, imagining beasts and ghouls with fantastical limbs and wide mouths, staring back at her from the inky darkness.

The light flickered on again, but only for a moment before turning off, the once dimly lit room now transformed into a vast expanse of darkness and engulfed everything it touched it. The only remaining light left was from the moon outside which cast a strip of light from the window to the centre of her room. She shuffled backwards, resting her back against the headboard and bringing the duvet up to her chin.

Don't be scared baby, Daddy's here,

The strip of light in the middle of the room shifted and moved around the room as if searching for something. It finally landed on the shadow standing in the corner of her room.

"Daddy?"

The undeniable sounds of chains clinking and banging together, filled the room, steadily getting closer and louder with every clink. The chains dragged against the floorboards, scratching and rolling about, becoming more intense and distressed. The man stepped into the light. His brown hair scattered around his forehead and clumped together. The man, who Ella knew as her father, smiled. His teeth bloody and stained, wrinkles appearing on either side of his brown eyes as he struggled to keep a smile.

Ella gasped and covered her mouth, partly due to shock and partly due to the bile that threatened to race up her esophagus and soil her sheets. His feet were shackled together, so tight that cuts formed around it, dried blood decorating the metal. His long arms were also shackled together, but pulled painfully behind his back. The man smiled sadly, a rusted dirty clamp around his neck.

"Da..Dad." Ella cried. She tried to get up but her legs disobeyed the commands of her brain. She cursed under breath and stared at him, a blanket of tears blurring her vision. Finally her legs began to respond and she got out of bed running towards her dad, she ran to hug him, but just as she reached him he was yanked back into the shadows by his arms and neck, the man screamed and yelled as he was pulled further and further away from Eleanor.

Ella stood there, and cried falling to her knees and burying her head in her cold hands. A cold chill swept through the dark room, moving Ella's hair slightly.

Eleanor please don't cry.

She felt fingers through her hair, stroking it, before trailing down her face and lifting Ella's chin up.

Ella screamed and backed up, staring into the eyes of her mum. There were cuts all over her face and lacerations up and down her arms, her mouth was cut on either side and stitches ran along the wound and pulled downwards, giving the impression that she was frowning. Her mum a permanent frown on her scarred face, stepped closer, limping, her arm disconnecting from its socket exposing the numerous levels of tissue and muscle holding the arm in place, the limb dropped to the ground and a black tar like substance slowly exited the wound. Her mother looked at the arm on the floor and sighed.