Page 193 of Shhh…It’s A Killer Story

Perhaps Gerald had been…

I turned back toward the kitchen. Frank wasn't looking at me anymore. His glass button eyes had widened so far, they looked ready to fall from their sockets. He wasn't looking at my face. He was looking...

Behind me.

His stitched mouth opened. His voice cracked.

"...Seraphina..."

Everything inside me stopped, not slowed but stopped. Every muscle locked before my mind understood why. Then I heard it.

Breathing. Right behind me. Warm. Slow. Patient.

I tried to turn-

A massive hand slammed across my mouth so violently my teeth cut into the inside of my cheek. The scent hit me before the pain did. Wintergreen. Disinfectant. Latex.

Another arm wrapped around my waist with terrifying strength, crushing the air from my lungs until my ribs screamed. I drove my elbow backward as hard as I could.

Solid muscle, nothing else, no grunt, no stumble and no reaction. It was like striking a wall.

"No-"

The word never escaped. Something cold brushed the side of my neck. Metal. A needle.

The sting was tiny.

Almost gentle.

Then fire flooded beneath my skin.

Liquid spread through my veins with horrifying speed, burning as though someone had injected molten glass directly into my bloodstream.

"No..."

My fingers stopped belonging to me. The strength vanished from my wrists first then my knees. The world tilted sharply sideways. Gerald slipped from my grasp. Time slowed. I watched him fall. His little ceramic face looked almost surprised.

"No..."

He struck the concrete patio just beyond the back step. The sound wasn't loud. It was worse.

Crack

A sharp, brittle crack split through the mountain silence, echoing off the trees like a gunshot. White ceramic burst across the grey cement, tiny painted fragments skittering in every direction. His little green coat shattered first. One painted hand bounced twice before coming to rest near the edge of the flower bed, while pieces of his smiling face scattered across the patio like broken porcelain teeth.

"...Gerald..."

The word tore itself from somewhere deep inside me, barely louder than a breath. I reached for him instinctively, my fingers twitching uselessly toward the broken pieces, but my arm no longer belonged to me. I couldn't even save one tiny ceramic gnome. Frank screamed not loudly, not dramatically. Just one terrified sound that echoed through the empty cottage before dissolving into silence.

The ceiling stretched farther away. The walls melted. The last thing I saw… Was Gerald's tiny painted hand lying alone among the broken pieces.

Then the darkness closed over everything.

And everything went silent.

Seraphina

I woke up because someone was whispering not loudly but I could still hear it.