SpineOut : June - July 2017
BOOK RE- VIEWS The gate swung silently inward. There had never been a gate here before, I thought. I’d walked home from Olivia’s house so many times before that it was impossible for me to believe that I was lost. Of course, it was dark out, but that shouldn’t have mattered. I had a torch and I’d walked this trail even in the dark. I’ve never been lost in these woods. Not once. Maybe I was so tired I had taken the wrong path. It was pointless to figure out why I had gotten lost so I decided to look around. Could a gate possibly mean that there was accommodation where I could seek help? So I wandered through the tall damp grass, looking up at the massive trees that seemed to go up for miles. The autumn air was brisk and the colourful leaves were falling to the ground. I felt an icy wind against my back and all I could see was my black hair, tangled in front of my eyes. I worked my fingers through the knots, brushing it back behind my shoulders. Only then did I notice the cottage that sat a couple of hundred metres in front of me. I walked over to the cottage slowly, not wanting to wake anyone who might be asleep. The cottage was very old and small. The paint was peeling off the walls and there were vines hanging from the roof. The faded red door was slightly ajar and hanging off its hinges. I walked up the steps to the door and peered inside, only to find that the house was pitch black. I pushed the door further open, cringing as it made a loud groan. Looking around, I still couldn’t see anyone who might be in the house. As I moved forward the ancient floorboards creaked beneath me. I looked around again- no signs that anyone was home. The house seemed to be empty. Still seeking safety, I tiptoed my way into the kitchen, making as little noise as possible. I cast my torch around the area. The kitchen was a mess. There were pots and pans just sitting on the counter and broken plates shattered on the floor. I walked around, examining my surroundings when I stepped on something that wasn’t wood. When my light reached the object, I dropped my torch as my heart sped up and I drew in ragged breath. I had stepped on a large chef’s knife that was covered in blood. Instead of finding a safe place to stay, I had found the remains of a murder scene. I stood up, grabbed my torch and started backing away. Then I heard the sound I had been dreading. A rhythm. Footsteps. They got louder and louder and louder. Instinctively, I hid behind the kitchen counter, praying that they hadn’t heard me. I froze as a firm hand gripped my arm and a torch was shone in my eyes, blinding me from seeing my capturer’s face. ‘Well, Well, Well! What do we have here? Curious little thing aren’t you?’ He then laughed, enjoying how powerless I was. I let out an ear-shattering scream. SHORT STORIES captured Samantha, Year 9 All Saints College Willetton WA Sam wrote this horror story starting with this Prompt: The gate swung silently inward. There had never been a gate here before, I thought.
April - May 2017