Breadcrumbs

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 02, 2018

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Submitted: May 02, 2018

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Timothy just moved into his very first apartment. 

 
He was ecstatic. No more having to sneak into his parents house when he was out late. He could watch television as loud as we wanted, least til 10 at night. No matter, it was his own space.
 
One night, while Timothy was fast asleep. A loud clash awoke him. The sound of glass shattering echoed from the kitchen.
 
As he ran in, letting out a shriek in pain.
 
"Ahh!!"
 
A piece of glass cut the bottom of his foot. Blood began to drip. He rushed to the bathroom to clean it up.
 
The next day, Timothy came home from the doctors to get his wounded heel stitched, stumbling in on a pair of crutches. He hobbled over to the couch, crashing down immediately.
 
As Timothy reached over to the coffee table to grab the remote, he noticed a spec of breadcrumbs spread across the bottom of the television stand.
 
"What the.." he uttered under his breath.
 
He got up best he could and hopped over to where the crumbs were. Timothy slid down onto his knees and inspected the crumbs. 
 
"Mice?" he thought to himself, examining the crumbs closer.
 
Timothy placed a couple of traps around the kitchen, setting pieces of cheese in each of the traps.
 
LATER THAT NIGHT...
 
Timothy had awakened to a loud bang. He reached over to his nightstand to grab a flashlight. 
 
He hobbled on one crutch through the hallway, shaking uncontrollably flashing the light on every little thing he saw. 
 
As he made his way to the kitchen, Timothy couldn't help but get an eerie feeling. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something wasn't right. 
 
He flipped the lights on and lept into the kitchen, acting as though he would catch a thief red handed. Nothing was there. Timothy was relieved. Yet he couldn't shake that eerie feeling. Timothy inspected the room. No one was there. He made his way to the counter and there it was again. Breadcrumbs. And the cheese was gone.
 
"What kind of rat is this? Timothy thought to himself, inspecting the trap looking for anything.
 
The next day Timothy decided to take it up a notch. He installed a night vision cam to capture what was going on at night. Although all signs pointed to a rat, still something was off. Something weird.
 
The next day Timothy arrived home. He dashed to the kitchen to check the traps. Same thing. Cheese gone, crumbs left on the floor. 
 
Timothy snatched the cam off the wall. This time he would get to the bottom of this. 
 
He sat down as fast as he could, pulling out a cord to hook the cam into a lap set on the coffee table in front of him as fast as he can. His face was practically pressed up against the computer screen as his anticipation had elevated his excitement. 
 
After a few minutes, Timothy fast forwarded through unimportant stuff; him making breakfast and enjoying a cup of coffee. Nothing had come about. Just when Timothy was going to turn the video off, a flicker of movement caught his attention. 
 
The cabinet door began to open, but not very much. The mouse was struggling to open the door it seemed. Timothy was excited, he was seconds away from catching the little fucker.
 
Finally the door swung open. Timothy was taken back. Everything was still. He awaited anxiously for the critter but nothing had come out. A dark shadow began to move from inside the cabinet. 
 
A young girl crawled out from the cabinet. She moved slowly, almost snake like. The little girl stood tall. Other then the fact that she climbed out of a cabinet, nothing else was alarming about her. She had long dark hair, a single peach colored clip to tie her hair back. A long flowy eggshell colored dress, untouched, not even a single wrinkle. She was like something out of a dream. 
 
Timothy's eyed widened as he watched this little girl eat everything she could get her fingers on.
He sped up the footage. He watched the little girl continue to run through the kitchen, something seemed off. She was comfortable. No hesitation. No worries. Nothing. It was then she stopped what she was doing and looked...dead into the camera...without even so much as to blink.
 
Timothy's heart raced into his throat, he began to hyperventilate as chills crept down his spine. He slammed a key to pause the footage. The look in her eyes was frightening. No emotion. No soul.
 
Timothy clicked out of the window and unplugged everything as quick as possible, slamming his laptop shut.
 
He took a moment to catch his breath. He counted back from 10 slowly, uttering the numbers as he inhaled and exhaled. His breathing had calmed a bit. He was feeling better.
 
"Do you think I'm pretty?" a voice whispered from behind.
 
....
 
Timothy lied lifeless on the floor below as a cabinet door shut off in the distance.


© Copyright 2018 Griff D. Con. All rights reserved.

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