The missing girl of Iowa State

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short campfire story of a girl who is swallowed up by her closet and never seen again.

Submitted: April 01, 2015

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Submitted: April 01, 2015

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The dainty figured girl stood up from her bed, her thin legs elongated from the bed. She contemplated  what to wear for the day with a concerned expression floating on her face. When she heard a strange sound coming from the beck of her closet. 

  It was a gurgling and snarling sound, harsh in tone and  frightening to the ears. Curios as the girl was she crouched in the doorway. Beginning to pushing aside the cotton skirts and cream blouses of her collection.

  As she dug deeper, pulling out fallen scarves and disregarded shoes never to be warn again. It  grew too dark to see. Shrouded in clothing with a masks of silks and chiffon draping over her slender shoulders. She leaned in farther,  the closet swallowing her in one quick gulp.

  In the darkness and suffocation of the cloths, she squinted reaching out. But her outstretched hand touched something. This something was different, this something was strange. It was  smooth and almost skin like. Afraid she jerked back tucking her hand at her chest. Unable to move too much under the thick fabrics she tussled and waled. 

  Through the little peeking light there was in the deep depth of this place, she saw it. Its flesh hairless a face looking on at her with red piercing eyes resting in dark sockets.They  burned her glaring, almost alight.  The beast lunged with a snarl. Its log bony arms stretching for the girl. 

She let out a yelp as the thick fingernails of glass tore through her skin in a swift and agonizing movement. She screamed a long scream with no breath and no sound. As the deep gouges produced warm blood that  oozed slowly down her collar bone and to her chest.  The girl squirming with a terrified squeal disappeared ever so slowly trashing, heart beating. 

The closet engulfing her limp feet last.


© Copyright 2020 Kate Lyn. All rights reserved.

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