The Witching Hour
Trap
The windscreen wipers battled furiously against the heavy down pour. The winds twisted around the body of the car, pushing against the doors, trying to force their way through.
The road ahead could barely be seen. The bright headlights appeared faded and dimmed on the usual busy streets. I hadn’t seen another car for blocks. The swarms of people I had previously seen were no longer to be glanced upon, having most likely, returned to the shelter of their homes.
It was a dangerous time to be on the road, but I didn’t care. Who was Thora to go forgiving Leo and not me, when we were both at as much fault as the other?
I spin round the corner leading to Brentwood’s Arcade. Leo’s garage wasn’t much further ahead, and it crossed my mind that I had never actually seen a house within its proximity. I took my chances, and assumed that there would be some clue as to where he lived when I arrived.
A flash of lightening blinded overhead. My eyes momentarily burned at the immense brightness. I couldn’t see what was ahead but could just about decipher a tall, dark figure.
A person.
I hit the brakes. The traction of the wheels didn’t take grip on the slippery roads. The car screeched as it flew across the junction and I screamed. The car continued to roll, picking up speed as it made its way toward a descending hill. I cried in fear, repeatedly slamming my foot to the brake pedal. But it refused to work.
I imagined myself being slammed across the dash board as the car impacted with a tree. The panes of glass smashing inwardly and showering me with hundreds of glistening shards, as I fell into unconsciousness, unable to protect my terrified body.
The car came to a slow halt, the wheels creating a soft, mushy sound.
I looked out of the unbroken windows, but the rain continued to mask any hopes of seeing outwards. Rolling them down, I glanced around my surroundings. A huge mud slide had formed in front; small bushes had been pulled down along with rusted road signs. The road was at least twenty-feet above, and with the looks of the treacherous terrain – I was going nowhere.
But there was no body.
No one, other than myself, was around. But I had distinctly seen someone. Why else would I have panicked at the thought of taking a life.
I sighed a breath of relief and sat back against the leather seats. Luna’s spare phone would be in the glove compartment—she always kept a spare.
I lamely reached forward, feeling a little more than embarrassed and . . . well, petrified. But before I could take hold of the handle, a hand grasped at my mouth, pulling me back against the seat. My screams muffled against their palm, their grip growing tighter. This was who had been in the road. It was no accident that I had been subject to. It was a trap. This was a demon.
The road ahead could barely be seen. The bright headlights appeared faded and dimmed on the usual busy streets. I hadn’t seen another car for blocks. The swarms of people I had previously seen were no longer to be glanced upon, having most likely, returned to the shelter of their homes.
It was a dangerous time to be on the road, but I didn’t care. Who was Thora to go forgiving Leo and not me, when we were both at as much fault as the other?
I spin round the corner leading to Brentwood’s Arcade. Leo’s garage wasn’t much further ahead, and it crossed my mind that I had never actually seen a house within its proximity. I took my chances, and assumed that there would be some clue as to where he lived when I arrived.
A flash of lightening blinded overhead. My eyes momentarily burned at the immense brightness. I couldn’t see what was ahead but could just about decipher a tall, dark figure.
A person.
I hit the brakes. The traction of the wheels didn’t take grip on the slippery roads. The car screeched as it flew across the junction and I screamed. The car continued to roll, picking up speed as it made its way toward a descending hill. I cried in fear, repeatedly slamming my foot to the brake pedal. But it refused to work.
I imagined myself being slammed across the dash board as the car impacted with a tree. The panes of glass smashing inwardly and showering me with hundreds of glistening shards, as I fell into unconsciousness, unable to protect my terrified body.
The car came to a slow halt, the wheels creating a soft, mushy sound.
I looked out of the unbroken windows, but the rain continued to mask any hopes of seeing outwards. Rolling them down, I glanced around my surroundings. A huge mud slide had formed in front; small bushes had been pulled down along with rusted road signs. The road was at least twenty-feet above, and with the looks of the treacherous terrain – I was going nowhere.
But there was no body.
No one, other than myself, was around. But I had distinctly seen someone. Why else would I have panicked at the thought of taking a life.
I sighed a breath of relief and sat back against the leather seats. Luna’s spare phone would be in the glove compartment—she always kept a spare.
I lamely reached forward, feeling a little more than embarrassed and . . . well, petrified. But before I could take hold of the handle, a hand grasped at my mouth, pulling me back against the seat. My screams muffled against their palm, their grip growing tighter. This was who had been in the road. It was no accident that I had been subject to. It was a trap. This was a demon.