| Horror and Thriller Fiction posted May 9, 2010 |
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A ride home takes a bad turn
A Night From Hell
by BethShelby
She ran blindly through bushes and trees, rhododendrons clawing at her face as she knelt, hiding, watching fearfully as they came, floating, glowing like miniature winged aurora borealis, creeping in on the damp night air; nasty little flitting butterflies hunting her down to whisper evil things in her ears. The woods were frightening at night, and Miranda would never have been here if she hadn't gotten into the car with Alex. She had known better. She'd had an uneasy feeling the moment they had been introduced. Something about him seemed evil.
Not taking her own car to the party had been a mistake. On her own for the first time and having grown up in a small town, Miranda found the city terrifying. Belinda, a girl she just met from down the hall, invited her and said she would drive. Anxious to make new friends, she'd accepted, but when Belinda decided to finish the night at the Flamingo lounge, Miranda politely declined. She planned to call a taxi, but when Alex offered to drive her, she accepted in spite of her misgivings. Instead of taking her home, Alex had driven out into the country and parked the car on a deserted strip of woodland. It soon became apparent he'd had more to drink that she had thought when she accepted the ride.
Things quickly got out of hand. When she said "No" to his advances, he yanked her hair and slapped her hard across her face.
"Look, bitch! You came with me so you must have known what to expect. We can do this hard way, if that's what you want. I'll teach you to say 'no' to me." From somewhere Alex had produced a switchblade. He flipped it open and Miranda could feel the cold steel against her throat.
"Please don't hurt me. Just take me home. All I want is to go home," Miranda sobbed. "I won't tell a soul. Just take me home."
"Not a chance, Babe. Not till we've had a little fun. You know what I want. Don't play hard to get with me."
He shook her roughly and pulled her face close. The smell of whiskey and bad breath made her retch. Her free hand groped around inside the evening bag on her lap until she found the small tube of mace. Quickly she pulled it out and aimed as best she could toward his face. When she pressed the button only a small amount released, and very little of it reached its target.
Alex let go of her and dropped the knife. He screamed a stream of obscenities at her while clawing at his face.
The fumes were getting to her as well, but she managed to open the door and escape before he could react. Stumbling off the road, she made her way into the woods just before she heard the other door open and realized he was coming after her. The mace had only deterred him for a moment. She was reasonably sure he was angry enough to kill her.
For at least twenty minutes, she fought her way through the undergrowth with briars cutting slashes in her bare legs and arms. When she felt as though her heart would tear through her chest wall and her breathing was so labored she was near to passing out, she paused. She no longer heard the sound of her pursuer.
She felt something brush against her face. Terrified she swatted at it. She was in a slight clearing, and as the clouds moved away from the moon, she could make out creatures flitting about with huge wingspans. They looked like giant butterflies or moths, and they seemed to be iridescent. Whatever these things were, she was convinced they were evil. The night was evil. To make matters even worse, she had no idea which way would take her back toward the road. While darting in different directions to avoid the bushes, she'd lost all sense of direction. Afraid to move for fear of coming in contact with the night creatures, she sank to the ground and crouched, shielding her face with her arms.
Hours passed before she dared move. It was lighter now, and the flying creatures were gone. She was stiff and her whole body ached. She realized that in spite of her fear, she must have dozed. The woods were coming to life with the creatures of the day. Birds were twittering, and squirrels were making clucking sounds. She lifted her bruised body from the ground and shivered in the early morning air. It had been a night from Hell, but she had survived. The immediate problem would be finding her way back to civilization. Looking around, she was amazed at the beauty of her surroundings. The rhododendrons were in full bloom. The early morning sun filtering through the branches lit the woods in shades of orange, pink and lavender. It was amazing how much less threatened she felt in the light of day
Somewhere in the distance a rooster crowed. She worked her way toward the sound. The trees thinned as she emerged from the forest. A farmhouse lay just ahead. Relief flooded over her. The night of terror was behind her. Never again would she go against her instincts. When things had gotten out of hand, she had fought back and won. She felt a sense a strength she had never felt before. Her fear of starting life in a new place was gone. She would make it. She was a survivor.
Story of the Month contest entry
She ran blindly through bushes and trees, rhododendrons clawing at her face as she knelt, hiding, watching fearfully as they came, floating, glowing like miniature winged aurora borealis, creeping in on the damp night air; nasty little flitting butterflies hunting her down to whisper evil things in her ears. The woods were frightening at night, and Miranda would never have been here if she hadn't gotten into the car with Alex. She had known better. She'd had an uneasy feeling the moment they had been introduced. Something about him seemed evil.
Not taking her own car to the party had been a mistake. On her own for the first time and having grown up in a small town, Miranda found the city terrifying. Belinda, a girl she just met from down the hall, invited her and said she would drive. Anxious to make new friends, she'd accepted, but when Belinda decided to finish the night at the Flamingo lounge, Miranda politely declined. She planned to call a taxi, but when Alex offered to drive her, she accepted in spite of her misgivings. Instead of taking her home, Alex had driven out into the country and parked the car on a deserted strip of woodland. It soon became apparent he'd had more to drink that she had thought when she accepted the ride.
Things quickly got out of hand. When she said "No" to his advances, he yanked her hair and slapped her hard across her face.
"Look, bitch! You came with me so you must have known what to expect. We can do this hard way, if that's what you want. I'll teach you to say 'no' to me." From somewhere Alex had produced a switchblade. He flipped it open and Miranda could feel the cold steel against her throat.
"Please don't hurt me. Just take me home. All I want is to go home," Miranda sobbed. "I won't tell a soul. Just take me home."
"Not a chance, Babe. Not till we've had a little fun. You know what I want. Don't play hard to get with me."
He shook her roughly and pulled her face close. The smell of whiskey and bad breath made her retch. Her free hand groped around inside the evening bag on her lap until she found the small tube of mace. Quickly she pulled it out and aimed as best she could toward his face. When she pressed the button only a small amount released, and very little of it reached its target.
Alex let go of her and dropped the knife. He screamed a stream of obscenities at her while clawing at his face.
The fumes were getting to her as well, but she managed to open the door and escape before he could react. Stumbling off the road, she made her way into the woods just before she heard the other door open and realized he was coming after her. The mace had only deterred him for a moment. She was reasonably sure he was angry enough to kill her.
For at least twenty minutes, she fought her way through the undergrowth with briars cutting slashes in her bare legs and arms. When she felt as though her heart would tear through her chest wall and her breathing was so labored she was near to passing out, she paused. She no longer heard the sound of her pursuer.
She felt something brush against her face. Terrified she swatted at it. She was in a slight clearing, and as the clouds moved away from the moon, she could make out creatures flitting about with huge wingspans. They looked like giant butterflies or moths, and they seemed to be iridescent. Whatever these things were, she was convinced they were evil. The night was evil. To make matters even worse, she had no idea which way would take her back toward the road. While darting in different directions to avoid the bushes, she'd lost all sense of direction. Afraid to move for fear of coming in contact with the night creatures, she sank to the ground and crouched, shielding her face with her arms.
Hours passed before she dared move. It was lighter now, and the flying creatures were gone. She was stiff and her whole body ached. She realized that in spite of her fear, she must have dozed. The woods were coming to life with the creatures of the day. Birds were twittering, and squirrels were making clucking sounds. She lifted her bruised body from the ground and shivered in the early morning air. It had been a night from Hell, but she had survived. The immediate problem would be finding her way back to civilization. Looking around, she was amazed at the beauty of her surroundings. The rhododendrons were in full bloom. The early morning sun filtering through the branches lit the woods in shades of orange, pink and lavender. It was amazing how much less threatened she felt in the light of day
Somewhere in the distance a rooster crowed. She worked her way toward the sound. The trees thinned as she emerged from the forest. A farmhouse lay just ahead. Relief flooded over her. The night of terror was behind her. Never again would she go against her instincts. When things had gotten out of hand, she had fought back and won. She felt a sense a strength she had never felt before. Her fear of starting life in a new place was gone. She would make it. She was a survivor.
Not taking her own car to the party had been a mistake. On her own for the first time and having grown up in a small town, Miranda found the city terrifying. Belinda, a girl she just met from down the hall, invited her and said she would drive. Anxious to make new friends, she'd accepted, but when Belinda decided to finish the night at the Flamingo lounge, Miranda politely declined. She planned to call a taxi, but when Alex offered to drive her, she accepted in spite of her misgivings. Instead of taking her home, Alex had driven out into the country and parked the car on a deserted strip of woodland. It soon became apparent he'd had more to drink that she had thought when she accepted the ride.
Things quickly got out of hand. When she said "No" to his advances, he yanked her hair and slapped her hard across her face.
"Look, bitch! You came with me so you must have known what to expect. We can do this hard way, if that's what you want. I'll teach you to say 'no' to me." From somewhere Alex had produced a switchblade. He flipped it open and Miranda could feel the cold steel against her throat.
"Please don't hurt me. Just take me home. All I want is to go home," Miranda sobbed. "I won't tell a soul. Just take me home."
"Not a chance, Babe. Not till we've had a little fun. You know what I want. Don't play hard to get with me."
He shook her roughly and pulled her face close. The smell of whiskey and bad breath made her retch. Her free hand groped around inside the evening bag on her lap until she found the small tube of mace. Quickly she pulled it out and aimed as best she could toward his face. When she pressed the button only a small amount released, and very little of it reached its target.
Alex let go of her and dropped the knife. He screamed a stream of obscenities at her while clawing at his face.
The fumes were getting to her as well, but she managed to open the door and escape before he could react. Stumbling off the road, she made her way into the woods just before she heard the other door open and realized he was coming after her. The mace had only deterred him for a moment. She was reasonably sure he was angry enough to kill her.
For at least twenty minutes, she fought her way through the undergrowth with briars cutting slashes in her bare legs and arms. When she felt as though her heart would tear through her chest wall and her breathing was so labored she was near to passing out, she paused. She no longer heard the sound of her pursuer.
She felt something brush against her face. Terrified she swatted at it. She was in a slight clearing, and as the clouds moved away from the moon, she could make out creatures flitting about with huge wingspans. They looked like giant butterflies or moths, and they seemed to be iridescent. Whatever these things were, she was convinced they were evil. The night was evil. To make matters even worse, she had no idea which way would take her back toward the road. While darting in different directions to avoid the bushes, she'd lost all sense of direction. Afraid to move for fear of coming in contact with the night creatures, she sank to the ground and crouched, shielding her face with her arms.
Hours passed before she dared move. It was lighter now, and the flying creatures were gone. She was stiff and her whole body ached. She realized that in spite of her fear, she must have dozed. The woods were coming to life with the creatures of the day. Birds were twittering, and squirrels were making clucking sounds. She lifted her bruised body from the ground and shivered in the early morning air. It had been a night from Hell, but she had survived. The immediate problem would be finding her way back to civilization. Looking around, she was amazed at the beauty of her surroundings. The rhododendrons were in full bloom. The early morning sun filtering through the branches lit the woods in shades of orange, pink and lavender. It was amazing how much less threatened she felt in the light of day
Somewhere in the distance a rooster crowed. She worked her way toward the sound. The trees thinned as she emerged from the forest. A farmhouse lay just ahead. Relief flooded over her. The night of terror was behind her. Never again would she go against her instincts. When things had gotten out of hand, she had fought back and won. She felt a sense a strength she had never felt before. Her fear of starting life in a new place was gone. She would make it. She was a survivor.
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