Broken Doors

Oddly, it wasn’t the screams that woke her. It was the slithering, wet, sucking sound of entrails falling onto the floor.

“This is why you should have a door that works.” Ghostface said matter-of-factly. One hand pushed gently at the splintered wood dangling from shattered hinges, the other, crimson-coated, casually probed the Yorker’s chest cavity – rearranging… twisting…

Across the room, Rajah’s own heart rearranged itself into her throat. She should lay still. Hope they went away. What could she do after all?

She could sense Slink in the darkness, inching towards the Nemesis. Slink was strong. Slink was used to danger. Slink was a brave rescuer.

Lay back down, pretend you’re sleeping. Let someone else save him. You’re not really friends. You can’t do anything. Let Slink do it.

Cadence’s screams shattered the shadows. Maybe it was the cold and the last wisps of sleep clouding her mind, but she was moving before the sound gurgled into silence once more. Her knife was in her hand. She didn’t have a plan, but she was going to do something.

Rajah pressed up against the wall, dropped over the edge and felt the darkness wrap around her. Comforting. She could see the Yorker’s eyes, white ringed and wide with pain. The floor was ice, the blood in her veins was ice too. What was she doing? She slid forward slowly and tried to form a plan, but all she could think was ‘He’s going to die. And now you’re going to die with him. Stupid stupid girl.’ Yet still she moved.

Maybe she could try and carry him off. Maybe she could sneak him an Uncle Todd’s. Maybe she could get behind th-

The shadow next to the bed turned and looked straight at her.

“You’re not trying to interrupt my scene, are you?” Ghostface drawled.

Her heart left her throat and dropped straight to the pit of her stomach. Mouth dry as bones.

“No.” Rajah whispered. “Of course not.”

So much for being brave.

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