Surviving a Real Life Horror Story

Chapter Eighteen

All I could do was study the house. Even in the darkness, the details that I could see were eerie. It was a boxy, two story building. The front was slowly being devoured by a tangle of ivy. The windows looked like the entrance of a blackened abyss. I could tell by the absence of any kind of glint that the glass had been removed. Judging by the state of the rest of the house, I guessed it was the product of a long ago fire.

I swallowed heavily. “I don’t think it’s safe,” I told Milton.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he said. “It’s hard to tell from out here. Inside, it might be easier to hide.”

“Or easier to get trapped,” I said.

Milton was silent. I had the feeling that he was in no mood to argue.

“How are you so sure it’s safe?” I asked. “We have no idea where the other seven contestants are, or any of the killers.”

“All the more reason we shouldn’t stand here and bicker!” Milton snapped.

“Why are you getting testy?” I asked in disbelief. “A few minutes ago, you were all about safety! Wouldn’t you rather be safe than sorry?”

Milton was silent, and I guessed he was trying to regain himself as well. “I suppose you have a point…what do you suggest we do?”

“I’m saying, let’s just be cautious about this. We shouldn’t just run in this place thinking we’ll be safe!”

“Then you lead the way,” Milton offered.

I frowned at the calmness in his tone. For a moment, I stood in place. There was something off about Milton; he was acting differently than he had before the competition started. He was tense and hostile…as if he was hiding something.

What could it be?

I knew the moment was dragging out to a long awkward silence. Before he could ask what was wrong, I stepped up to the house. While my hand reached for the door, my mind wondered why he wanted me to go first. Was it because he was scared of what we might find…or was it more than that?

Did he know something that I didn’t?

My thoughts were interrupted when I realized that my outstretched hand didn’t come to rest against a door. I squinted into the darkness beyond and realized it was already open. I took a step backwards and felt myself collide into Milton.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“The door’s open…it means other people have already been here,” I said.

“Or it could be that the people that designed the arena left the door open on purpose as a decoy,” he argued.

I swallowed heavily. “Milton, I have a bad feeling about this place.”

“Nonsense,” he hissed, pushing me forward. “Now move before someone finds us!”

I could barely hear his words over the steady pumping of blood in my ears. My gut and mind agree on one thing- something wasn’t right. I had an impending sense of doom, and based on Milton’s reaction, I’d guess that he felt it too.

I swallowed heavily, making out the room around us. It was an old living room, bare of any furniture that I could tell. An old staircase snaked into the middle of the room. A dusty old fireplace marked the entrance of the hallway that led deeper into the house. I glanced around the room, noticing every spider web despite the minimal light.

In the back of my head, I noted their usefulness. I knew that I could easily monitor the webs to check if there had been movement. I heard a nearby creak that instantly pushed the thought out of my head. The only thing I was aware of was the hair standing on end on the back of my neck.

“Milton, what was that?” I asked.

Silence greeted me.

Panic was my reaction. I faced the sound, taking careful steps backwards down the hallway as I looked for signs of Milton’s fate. I knew that panic was the worst way to handle the situation, but at the moment, it was the only option that my brain could think of.

“Milton!” I called again.

Instantly, I regretted it. I heard a rush of footsteps a moment before I felt someone behind me snake their arms under my shoulders.

“Surprise!” Milton’s voice taunted in my ears.

“Let me go!”

I screamed out, fighting instantly for my life as I realized that I caught the glint of a knife in the darkness. A moment later, I realized Bruno was the one wielding it.

In that moment, a new plan replaced my panic-adrenaline. I could feel it surging through my veins giving my body a strength that I would perish without. I wasn’t going to die- not like this, not if I could help it. I pushed backwards with all my might, leaving Milton to stumble through an open door into a bathroom. A sickly green nightlight showed the room to us.

But I wasn’t focused on it.

With another grunt of effort, I pushed backwards. Milton’s back curved awkwardly against the sink that rested behind him before his body crashed into the mirror. The sound of shattering glass filled the room. The second Milton’s grip on me loosened, I pulled free. Bruno’s massive form swung the knife at me as I bent down to scoop up a piece of glass.

I barely avoided the tip.

I could feel the jagged edges of the glass tearing into my flesh as I clutched it tight. I didn’t feel any pain…only determination. I knew that this was literally a fight to the death. Bruno lunged again, and I moved to dodge when my foot angled in a shower curtain that had been lying on the floor. This time, dodging the knife was impossible.

I could feel the tip easily slide into the skin and muscle in my shoulder. Unlike the glass, this created a pain that was too great to ignore. I screamed out and lost my balance. I could hear Bruno laughing as I fell to the floor, glass still clutched tight in my bloody hand.