Breathing as noiselessly as she can, she moves through the dusty room. The few sunbeams that dare to tread into the house through the window, mostly covered by old, fading curtains, cast yellow stripes across the room, and gently touch her golden skin. Her breath halts, forehead furrows, and eyes tightly shut as one of her meticulous steps falters by one inattentive inch, causing the aged wooden floorboard to emit a creak. How such a gentle sound can elicit such trepidation.
For one glorious, protracted second, stillness reigns. She remains fixed in her position, motionless. Every muscle clenches in uncomfortable tension as she strives to ascend into nothingness, attempting to erase her existence. Then, a breath—a nearly gurgling, repulsive, goosebump-inducing, slimy breath disrupts the silence.
Her heart pounds, and the overwhelming urge to flee, tears threatening at the edges, courses through her limbs. Despite the burning desire to escape, she forces herself to turn around, a slow pivot that brings her face to face with the ominous figure lurking in the dimness of the doorway. His eyes, like predatory shadows, fixate on hers. The room feels claustrophobically oppressive—she's been ensnared. His gaze sharpens, a sinister, eerie smile twisting his lips, and the once-stifling stillness metamorphoses into a portentous confrontation she had desperately tried to sidestep.
There's no escaping now. She could never outrun him, and even if she could, it would only be a matter of time before he'd find her again, as though fate itself conspired to intertwine their paths in an inescapable dance of doom.
