Claw (freewrite)
Hush now, let's not rush to judgment.
We don't know why he was running for the door, do we? In point of fact, we don't know if he was running for the door at all. Let's not assume the worst in people, shall we? You wouldn't run for the door, would you?
No, I thought not. And so then, why would he? Surely, he knows what that would mean for you. That even if he did manage to get past my friend at the gate, I would still have you. I would always have you.
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Except if he did indeed leave us, I wouldn't have you for very long. And I'm sure he wouldn't want that, so it only stands to reason he was not headed towards it. Yes, I suppose he will tell us, though not for a few hours now. I don't think he'll be able to say much of anything for a good two hours now.
And so, where were we, before our dear little friend so rudely interrupted us? Shh, don't try to speak now. Wouldn't want you ending up like your friend over there, would we?
No, don't cry, nobody's going to hurt you. Not as long as you behave, at least. Of course, if you don't behave, I will have to leave you here for the rats to find. Yes, I'm quite afraid of rats, too. Nasty little creatures, but with the keenest sense of smell.
What? That's a mighty good question, a fine question indeed. Why? Why does anyone do anything? Why were you on the street early in the morning? And why did you scream when you saw me? Why did the Sun come up in the morning? And why is someone dying out there right now? A horrible death, little girl, alone and quiet. Because there's no one in the whole wide world who'll hear them.
I'm doing this because I'm supposed to. I'm doing this, quite simply, because I like it. You were hoping there's some logical explanation to it, that maybe you can sway me, you can make me take pity on you and your brother. But tonight, there's no pity to be had. No logic, just like there's no logic behind every sunrise, no logic in that man, a good man, a kind man for most of his life, dying alone. That is just how things are. And for the next few hours and maybe, if I'm lucky, for the next few days, you are mine. Simply because I got here before you could lock your doors, before you could run to safety.
Because sometimes, you turn your lights on and the boogeyman still gets you.
Based on @mariannewest's prompt 'rush to judgement'.
Thank you for reading,
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OMG, how can I upvote and resteem such a horror of a story, the sort of thing I avoid at all costs? Because it's so well written - it's brilliant!
You have really polished your craft in your time at @freewrite. I should host a contest or an Award Ceremony for freewriters who've honed their skills "here" (I like to think it was HERE more than anywhere that you were inspired and found room to grow). This story is crazy good and I hate this genre but you have me singing your praises for this horrifying, chilling, wicked tale. That is high praise, indeed.
Thank you :) again, some thoughts that were floating around my head, I'm really glad they made such an impression. It means a lot, so thank you for the upvote and resteem.
And yes, it was here, in the sense I probably would've never written as much as I have if it wasn't for the Freewrite House and @mariannewest and all the lovely people in the community.
Yes, it really is high praise, it's a sick story and I don't blame you for running away from it, so the fact you like it despite that really means something. And I'm glad. :)
Truly, it's the highest form of praise, for me to read and admire a story so dark.
Then again, consider "Lolita" - we cannot resist! Or "Silence of the Lambs" - or "Dexter" - or "Breaking Bad" - we do love villains. What am I saying???
That's how I see it :) There's something very compelling about bad guys, about evil. Lolita is one of my favorite books to this day - it's horrible, but it's real and Nabokov just wrote so well...it was impossible not to like it in a way. Did you know Lolita was inspired by a real story, by the way?
I'd be surprised if Lolita hadn't been inspired by a real story. I hope Silence of the Lambs is pure fiction, but it seems all fiction has its origins in a story that happened in real life, somewhere, to somebody... I love the Willa Cather quote,
'There are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before.'
Hadn't heard that one, it truly is a great quote. And true as hell, it seems there's always a new way to tell an old story, doesn't it?
I don't know about Silence of the Lambs, though even if that particular story is fake, surely it's inspired by real people, so...
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That was a deliciously creepy story.
Thank you <3