1. The End
Rochelle Bullock was only Six years old when she watched her mother die, and ten years later, she could still recall that very moment, like it happened only seconds ago.
***
"Mommy!" Rochelle ran threw her small house, yelling for her mother. She ran down the stairs, a pretty scribble of a picture in her slim hand; for she had lost her baby wait very quickly. Rochelle slowed as she neared the stairs, knowing how dangerous they could be. She grabbed the thick railing and carefully trod down the steps, one by one.
"Mommy!" she yelled again in to the hall, but stopped. Something was wrong. Rochelle's six-year-old brain had grabbed the idea out of nowhere. But she knew to listen to it.
Rochelle took a big deep breath and scrambled into the little cupboard under the stairs, it was packed full with bikes, winter coats and shoes, but there was enough space for a slim six-year old to wriggle through.
Rochelle dragged a padded coat over her head and settled down on the floor. She was uncomfortable, but something told her to wait there and stay very, very quiet. She closed her eyes and began to slowly sway from side to side. It was only a small movement but, for some, reason, it made Rochelle feel so much better.
Until she hear the shrill scream of her mother.
It took a lot of control for Rochelle not to cry out herself. She was frightened, more frightened than she was when she imagined green ugly monsters under her bed, a lot more frightened than when the nasty man who wanted money for bills off her mommy came and whacked his hand against the door.
A strange gurgling noise rung out through the house, and Rochelle thought it was coming from the kitchen. There was a loud thump and Rochelle buried herself under another thick coat.
Light footsteps scatted across the floor and Rochelle clamped her lips together. She heard an intake of breath, followed by lots of little sniffs, like someone was tasting the air.
"I know you're here." A voice whispered. It sounded like it was coming from anywhere and everywhere. But Rochelle didn't move.
"I can smell you, girl." The voice called again. It was as smooth as velvet and had an accent from a place that had long been forgotten and buried.
The footsteps came closer to the little cupboard under the stairs. "Come out, little girl." The door handle fluttered, and silent tears slipped down Rochelle's cheeks. If I just keep still and quiet, she thought, it will go away. Although it was a mans voice, Rochelle knew the being outside the cupboard was not human.
A loud clash from the kitchen and the footsteps scatted away, almost to quiet to be heard. Rochelle’s cat, Mimi, shrieked and a hiss roared from the kitchen, not belonging to the cat.
Rochelle knew she had one chance, as she pushed open the door of the cupboard and ran to the front door, her bare feet pattering on the carpet. She shoved the front door open and ran into the street. Rochelle ran as fast as her legs would carry her, and whacked her small fist against her next-door neighbor’s front door.
"Help meee! There's a man in my house and he's trying to hurt meee!" Rochelle screamed and the front door flew open. Philip Freeman, a thirty-something man, who bought Rochelle pretty shoes one year for her birthday, looked down at the hysterical ball of a six-year-old and ran right into Rochelle’s house.
Rochelle followed him into her house and into the kitchen. She wished so hard she hadn’t.
Rochelle's mother was on the floor, her skin seemed abnormally pale, and the whites of her eyes were showing. A chunk of her lovely dark hair was near Rochelle's foot and, looking closely at her mother, two long bloody scratched tore down her mother’s scalps, like someone had grabbed her head and yanked it back.
Rochelle fell to her knees and crawled over to her mother. She picked her lolling, empty-looking head off the ground and laid it in her lap. She stoked her mother’s drained cheek.
"Mommy, Tell Philip. Tell Philip it was the man with the quiet footsteps." she whispered, she gently shook her mother's shoulders
But Rochelle's mommy didn't tell Philip. Rochelle’s mommy never said anything, ever again.
***
Rochelle had told the police everything, but they could not think of any rational explaination
. She told them and told them, that it must have been one of those creatures with the long pointy teeth and black capes. "A vampire?" the policeman had laughed when Rochelle had nodded eagerly.Finally, they said her mother must have been attacked by some sort of animal. And that was it, case closed.
But Rochelle knew what really happened, and, even though she was only six-years-old, she made a promise to her dead mommy, that one day, she would get the revenge on the thing that killed her.
Rochelle didn't have any other living relatives, and the police couldn’t track down her father, So Rochelle was sent to foster families.
She hated it. They wanted her to be their baby, but she always told the, she was no-ones but her own. The family's would get upset when Rochelle wouldn't accept hugs or call the Mommy and Daddy. So she was sent off again.
There were two families Rochelle liked living with: the first was the McCleans. They were odd people and dressed in funny clothes, but Rochelle loved them to bits. They understood that she would only ever have her one mommy and they kept their distanceand waited until Rochelle came to them.
But the man came again. He came when Rochell was snuggled up in bed.
"Rochelle...Rochelle, I'm back." he whispered, in his awful velvet voice. Rochelle had frozen for a split second and then ran for her wadrobe, diving under coats and t-shirts.
Rochelled heard his soft footsteps in her room and she snuggeled down, closing her eyes, she gentaly swayed and felt calmer instantly. Seven-year-old Rochelle heard the distintive sound of a match being struck.
"Now, did your mother ever tell you what happened to people when they touched fire? They burn Rochelle, their skin bubbles and boils until they pop. You wouldn't want that to happened to your new family, would you? So be a good girl and show your pretty face." He whispered.
Rochelle's bedroom door clicked open and Rochelle's heart stopped.
"who are you?" It was Rochelle foster-mother, Paula.
"Oh, I'm nobody." said the man and he threw the match at Paula. Her hair caught alight and it traveled down her clothes. Flames leapt over Paula. She let out a blood-curdling scream and there was a thump as she fell to the floor. She didn't make another sound and the flames fried her body.
"Don't worry Rochelle; I'll get you one day." The man said and laughed.
Rochelle cried silently in the wardrobe and must have fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew she was waking up in a hospital bed, a plump nurse leaning over her.
"Shh, its okay honey." The nurse drawled in a thick Ohio accent.
"Where’s Paula?" Rochelle said and sat up to cough
"Um, the fire hon. Paula died in the fire. She's in a better place now: with God." The nurse had a tear in her eyes
"Oh. But I don’t believe in God." Rochelle said simply and the nurse looked at her with concern.
***
Rochelle was sent to a Japanese man and woman and she liked them even better than the McCleans. The man, Katsumi, was a ninjustsu teacher, and he taught Rochelle how to fight and how to blend into shadows. She stayed with the Japanese family for six years and it was the most wonderful six years of her life. Katsumi said she was the most gifted child he had ever taught and was amazed that she could pick up moves in one try, that had took months for him to master. He taught Rochelle everything he knew.
But, as Rochelle had leant from a young age, all good things end. It happened one day when she was coming home from school and a bright ambulance was outside her house. Katsumi had had a heart attack and died on his way to hospital. His wife was unable to care for Rochelle any longer and was shipped off back to the orphanage.
When she was geting in the car to go to the orphanage a cruel velvet laugh had made Rochelle freeze.
But Rochelle had a plan forming in her mind; she would use all the skills Katsumi had taught her and kill the man with the quiet footsteps, so he would never harm anybody ever again.
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Note: Hey guys, I know its a bit different to the things the usual write, but I thought I give it ago. Vote, Comment and fan if you like. Jenny xox