H&S: Story Of Dorothy Oneshots

Pt. 1 Dorothy & The Exorcist

Dorothy & The Exorcist Pt. 1

Dorothy watched as her father, Georg, picked up the corded telephone from its stand on his desk and speedily spun the rotary dial to contact a number she did not know of. He constantly brushed sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, not bothering to hide the fear in his usually stern deep-set eyes. She was perched on the bed in his room, next to her mother, Maria. The woman was worse off of course, being quite fragile like herself. She constantly reused one tissue to wipe snot from her button nose, and rubbed her wrist across her teary eyes.

Dorothy was scared too as they hid away behind a locked door also barricaded with a coat rack and chairs. The three were on the fourth floor, and in the floors below them the horrifying apparitions of their recently-deceased servants and maids haunted the corridors. Lusting to shed her blood in vengeful spite. She was thankful she stopped playing Hide and Seek with that devil and told her parents everything, from getting gifts every time she won to seeing someone die every time she lost. They were hesitant to believe her at first, despite how strange the deaths were, until the first of the angry spirits emerged from whatever void their souls had slunk into.

Georg had hastily ripped a long ribbon of fabric from one of his shirts to wrap tightly around his arm. Blood from the deep gouges that formed claw marks seeped through, staining white with red. He twirled the phone cord as he licked his lips nervously and waited. Dorothy looked up at the flushed face of her mother and whispered, "Mom? Who's dad calling? Is it the constable?" The village was located down a wooded slope, a short walk from their mansion. There had to be authorities there they could contact for help.

"No, baby," Maria sniffed as she squinted at her through her tears, "the constable can't help us against... Supernatural forces. Being the religious family that we are, we keep a special number in our phone book for emergencies like this. Your father's calling an exorcist. We'll just have to survive the night until she comes." She grasped the twelve-year-old's small hand and pulled her shivering body into a comforting embrace.

"Yes, is this Woohee?" Georg urgently whispered into the telephone. However, he was too quiet in trying to keep his voice too low for the spirits to hear. "Woohee, the exorcist girl? Exorcist woman, right. I have a life or death emergency in the next town over from yours, I live in a big house up on the hill, a ten minute walk through the forest will get you there. There's a trail, too, so you won't get lost, but please hurry, we need you straight away. I have a family. A wife and daughter. We've been forced to hide upstairs, the fourth storey. The spirits-our servants- have overrun the entire lower floors and I fear they'll enter this floor sooner than we'd all like."

Dorothy shuddered at this, leaning heavily against Maria. This was all her fault. All those servants died because of her stupid greed. Which happened because she found that stupid boy in the sewers. She should've been wary of his stupid power rather than amazed by it. But no, she just had to stupidly befriend him. "You'll be here by morning?" Georg continued after a pause, sounding hopeful. He allowed himself to practically break down in front of his family, nearly sobbing his relief. "Oh thank you so much, it'll be well worth the pay!" Then he hung up and looked at his two loved ones with faith sparking a determined flame in his eyes.

A noise resounded from somewhere on the fourth floor. A ghastly shriek from a woman she recognized as Servant C, one of pure torment and resentment. She was actively searching for them, bashing through doors and letting out growling yells like an enraged animal. Dorothy and Maria suppressed screams and hugged each other tighter. Georg, however, didn't seem very frightened anymore as he took out a small key from his blazer pocket and strode over to the side of his bookcase with purpose. He inserted the key through a keyhole in the wood and twisted. He drew back his hand as the bookcase moved to the side to reveal a large, dark entryway with a couple of concrete stairs.