The Chilling (Not Finished)

The continuous drip drip of the broken tap was driving twenty-one year old Stacy Linly crazy. She sat back in her bed, head against the backboard and let out an agonizing groan. She sat upright and rubbed her face with her hands. Sighing she stood and shuffled to the open window of her house. A small breeze wafted in, rustling her auburn hair. She looked out the window through azure eyes, staring at a man limping along the sidewalk. 1

Stacy rose an eyebrow at the peculiar man, she looked up and down the street. It was empty. 2

There was a rattling by her bare foot. She jumped, hand on her heart and staring down, she saw that it was just one of her bracelets fallen to the floor. Laughing slightly at herself, she turned back to the window. The man was gone.3

At first Stacy’s heart began to pound, fluttering against her ribcage daring to break out, but then she told herself, “He just went inside. He probably lives around here.” Nodding to her self with an unconvinced smile upon her lips. 4

Stacy’s lids began to droop as she stumbled to her bed. Lying down, her head resting upon a soft down pillow, she finally fell into a deep slumber. The clock flashing 1:00am.5


The agonizing ring of the ancient alarm clock merged into one long, continuous ring. Stacy slowly lifted her head her once strait hair puffed out in a frizz. Slapping the clock till it stopped, she slid her feet out from under her thin summer duvet letting them hang off the edge. 6

Rubbing her eyes with the palm of her hands, she cleared her vision and stood upright, letting her auburn hair fall to the small of her back. A soft chill rolled across her bare arms. Shivering, she walked over to the window and grabbed outward for the handle yet her hand hit hard glass. “What the…?” She mumbled. The window was shut.7

Stacy’s eyes shot open staring at the window. “But I swear…. I…” She stammered. Taking a step back she shook her head and laughed at herself. “You’re just being silly, a breeze probably just rolled in from downstairs,” now smiling, she walked out of her room, heading toward the stairs. She jumped as her door slammed shut. 8

“You’re so skittish today” she said to her self. She skipped down the stairs humming the ‘This is Halloween’ tune from Nightmare before Christmas. She swung round the bend turning into her oversized kitchen that seemed to big for a house this small. 9

As she opened the metallic fridge releasing a wave of chill air, a mew erupted near her feet. Looking down a small black kitten stared up and her through amber eyes. “Hey Charcoal.” Stacy smiled, bending to pick up the small cat. Closing the fridge and walking over to the cabinets she said, “So, what shall we have for breakfast? What shall we break our fast with?” Laughing quietly, she set Charcoal down, and grabbed a bag from the cabinet labelled Iams. 10

The food rattled as it poured into the tin bowl. Charcoal licked her chops staring at the food. Suddenly, so suddenly in fact, Stacy jumped and nearly dropped the bag; Charcoal jumped hissing, and ran out of the room. Setting the food down Stacy ran after Charcoal. “Honey?” She said as she walked into the hallway. 11

Charcoal was staring at the glass vase sitting on a table against the wall. “Charcoal? What’s wrong?” Stacy said talking a step towards the kitten. She stopped abruptly as a chill wind rolled across her skin causing her to shiver. She jerked as the horrifying sound of shattering glass filled the hall. The glass vase that had just been sitting on the table lie in pieces on the floor, Charcoal stood unmoving keeping her eyes where they were. Slowly her inky fur rose on end, and her lips drew back in a snarl, arching her back she hissed. 12

Stacy’s heart thundered in her chest. Another chill wind passed her, and instantly Charcoals anger vanished with the wind. ‘It’s just like a book’ Stacy thought to herself. Charcoal whined up at Stacy, she bent down and swept Charcoal up in her arms, cooing “Shh. All you need is some food. Cause you’re an Iams Cat.” She laughed nervously.13


Stacy sat in a chair that looked like something out of a horror movie. Curled up; she sat holding a book in both hands caressing the spine. The faded title read 101 of the best Horror Stories. "Aha!" Charcoal lifted her small head from Stacy’s lap. “Here it is Charc, The Chilling; A story of a teenage girl and her boyfriend, home alone for the week while Janet‘s parents are on vacation. Suddenly, icy winds begin to chill their bones, and strange appearances frighten them senseless. They think nothing of it, until the fears become reality.” The sound of scratching paper echoed in her living room as she flipped pages to the end of the book. “Okay, the end, what happened to the two teens Charc?” She began to read out the last couple paragraph of the book;14


“Janet’s heart thudded as she huddled in the broom closet. Ted’s dead she thought to herself. Gone! Killed! A chill wind rolled across her skin and a vase broke outside the door. Closing her eyes tightly, Janet pressed her face into her knees. ’I wanna play…’ Whispered a child’s voice, Janet began to sob. More fragile objects broke outside the door. Suddenly something smashed against the door so roughly a small crack appeared on the wood. ‘No!’ Shouted Janet. She pressed herself closer and closer to the wall as wind poured into the small room. Janet looked up to see a little girl with a pale, bloodless, face cocking her head to one side. A broken doll with one fragile arm dangled to the floor, that one arm clutched in the girls hand. “I wanna play,” she repeated. The doll dangling from her hand, had one missing eye, stitches painted on her left cheek, and rusty nails poking into her face and body.15

That was the last sight Janet saw before the shelf above her collapsed and she was buried beneath broken glass and broken wood. Janet or Ted never lived to plan that wedding of theirs. It is said that every so often you can hear the pitiful sobbing of Janet and the raging screams of Ted, and feel the chilling winds roll across your skin.”16


Stacy finished and looked at Charcoal who was sound asleep on her lap. “Wicked!” She whispered to herself. “Just like out of the book!” Charcoal lifted her soot black head, dazed with sleep. Stacy patted Charcoal gently on the head rubbing her behind the ears. A slow purr erupted from her small little cat as she fell into her hands. 17

“Well, what do you make of it Charc?” Blinking her large amber eyes, Charcoal mewed. “Yea, it’s just a story, but how awesome would that be if it was real!?” Charcoal closed her eyes, and settled her head on her small black paws. 18

Stacy sighed wearily, she closed the book, and rose to her feet, replacing Charcoal back on the red velvety cushion. As the book slid back into its place, a sound like a metronome echoed throughout the living room. Stacy froze in her tracks, her hand still grazing the book cover. The hair rose on the back of her neck, and a chill sweat trickled down her back. The clock flashed 1:00pm.19

Slowly, cautiously, looking over her shoulder, Stacy saw Charcoal, alert on the chair. Her petite head was risen, facing the doorway, her little ears were perked and swivelling. 20

Without a word, Stacy slowly walked towards the door, sweeping Charcoal up in the process. As silent as she could be, Stacy padded through the corridor, and stopped in the dining room, the ticking had stopped. 21

She didn’t know why, but for some unknown reason, Stacy looked out the window, slowly pulling the laced curtains back. A little girl, about four or five, slowly walked along the sidewalk. She had fiery, no, blood-red hair, and a scarlet dress dotted with white circles. In her hand, was a broken doll.22

Stacy’s heart beat rapidly against her chest. Suddenly, she felt it wasn’t as cool as she thought for a story like this one to come to life, it was eerie. She caught her breath as the little girl stopped. The girl stood like that for a full five minutes, but to Stacy it was much, much longer.23

Suddenly, she began to turn her head, her blood red hair swinging over her shoulders. When Stacy saw the full intake of her face, it was something no book could ever describe. She had deep crimson iris’, set in sunken, bloodshot eyes. The bare skin of her face was covered with cuts, scars, blood, and bruises. Her lips were dry and cracked, stained a cherry red. The corner of her mouth, quivered and turned up in an evil grin. Stacy’s heart skipped several beats as the girl locked eyes with her. 24

She couldn’t do it, she couldn’t stand it, Stacy screamed and jumped back. The cream curtains swayed gently from the sudden movement. She’d almost forgot Charcoal was there. She held him in a tight embrace against her quickly rising and falling chest. She squeaked out a little mew, and struggled to break free.25

“Oh… s-s-sorry Charc” She mumbled fearfully. When Charcoal had leapt from her, landing lightly on the table, Stacy took a step toward the window, she had to make sure, she had to look again, but what if that little girl tried to get in? What if she was even still there? Questions upon questions piled up in Stacy’s mind. 26

Slowly, so, so slowly, she lifted her clammy, shaking hand, and drew back the curtains a couple inches. She saw a glimpse of red before she closed her eyes, to afraid to look. After a deep breath, she drew the courage, and shot open her eyes. The little girl, and her broken doll were gone.