secret wars

Emma felt her heart pounding, and her breath becoming fast and shallow. Her feet were rooted to the cream carpet of the landing, as, out of sight, below her, she heard the awful sound of her father- her caring, loving, sensible father, desperately begging the women attacking him, to spare him his life. She heard his blood-curdling screams, as they tortured him, burning away his flesh with cigars and lighters.

Tears rolling down her pale cheeks, emma almost chocked as the terrible smell of barbequed flesh reached her nostrils. Franticly, she pressed her sky-blue sleeve against her face in a pathetic attempt to block it. Then all the auful noises stopped and in their place was a harrowing, deathly silence.

In shock, emma had to force herself to breathe, in, out, in, out. She heard the quiet voices of the killers downstairs, and then came the sound of footsteps coming across the hallway. Emma gulped, terrified. She knew, if these cold-hearted women found her, they'd have no problem with killing her, just to tie up loose ends.

She forced herself away from the landing and into her bedroom, swinging the door silently closed behind her. That might buy her some time. Don't panic, she thought to herself. Yeah, dont panic, your dad was just murdered and the people who did it are now coming towards you, her mind retorted. Again, she gulped, and looked around her, panicing, for anything she might use as a weapon. Then her eyes rested on the window.

Emma heard the familiar, but now so scary sound of someone stepping onto the landing as she climbed into the window frame. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, she told herself.

Three, two, one.

She jumped, just as the door behind her swung open.

The End

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