The Figure

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A mysterious Figure Appears , but whom is this figure and who is it murdering

Submitted: March 16, 2009

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Submitted: March 16, 2009

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The figure.

I Stared ahead into the shattered Mirror. I saw a blood curdling figure of which I did not recognize. The figure quickly floated closer. I was able now to view in detail, this strange monster that was a figure in the mirror. It was a figure of a woman, who had obviously once been blessed with much beauty but now, the face was marked with lines of sadness and stress, her eyes were blazing like a fire with anger. She wore white silk pajamas that had puddles and blood squirts across the top and a bloody hand print across the bottoms. A glimpse of sadness blew across that face, sadness which was supposed to be hidden. One single tear slowly rolled down the face which was creased with rage. The tear was cleared away with a swift motion of the hand , this left a curved smear of blood across one cheek. the figure held a sharp knife which was dripping with sparkling Scarlett blood, in a limp hanging hand.

~

The Bedroom was dark. It smelled of talcum powder which reminded the figure of her all too horrific childhood. The figure winced as she remembered the Unjustified beatings she had received. The room was scattered with strange barbies which had obviously been abused , with awful haircuts and pen tattoos. She carried on through the bedroom dodging those staring dolls. The young girl of 7 was lying in her bed dreaming sweetly. Her blond curls fell beautifully across her head and onto the bed. The figure heard her small heart beat, Boom Boom Boom. The figure wanted it to stop now , she needed it to stop.

The young girl soon awoke to see the figures expressionless stare. She scrambled up against the head of her bead making her self as small as possible hoping to distance herself from the figure. Then she saw the knife, it was cradled in the figures hand . The girls eyes pleaded not too hurt her , she was so startled and petrified she forgot to scream and cry to her mother who was oblivious to the hell that took place in that room. The figure then gripped the girls mouth to silence her, and rose the other hand which held the clean twinkling knife , swiped it across the girls neck like a credit card to a till. The girls blood was like a water fall from the slit in her pale neck. Once the spasms had finished and the innocent girl had been murdered , the figure, wiped her hand across the silk pajama bottom leaving a bloody hand print. The figure pulled the young girl back into her bed under the still warm duvet, and lay her to rest. The figure stood for a moment ,head bowed ,then carried back out of the child's room. She carried herself across the old moaning floorboards towards the Mothers room.

She slowly pushed opened the closed bedroom door. It was pitch black, but a single moon beam reflected of the dressing table mirror and onto each wall. She looked around the room and made her way towards the rusting metal bed where a woman lay sleeping. The figure was filled with rage and fury, her face glowed red. She then reached her twig arms across the bed to the womans aging face, kissed her sweetly on the forehead the mother moaned slightly in her sleep. The figure then briskly, Snapped the womans neck there was a horrifying crunch from her spine. She would never know what happened. The figure needed no weapon to kill the mother, she was strong enough on her own, had been as easy for her as snapping a stick. The figure had a sudden outburst of fury and turn to the mirror and threw a book which lay next the the dead Mother, and threw it with all her strength into the glass. It Instantly Shattered, Leaving lines like spider legs across the mirror. The figure stared at her self in the mirror a dingle tear trickled down her face. She quickly lifted the knife which was covered in her first victims blood and held it to her wrist. She hesitated slighty but then plucked the courage and sliced it across her veins . She stood still for a brief moment the knife dropping from her limp hand, letting the blood drip, drip, drip continuously from her open veins. The room started to spin and she fell with a thump to the floorboards. She lay there in a puddle of her own blood, her only movement was her blinking. She stared at her mother across the room lying in her bed , now at rest. It was her mother. This was her Childhood home. Her first victim was her sister. She wanted to stop her sisters suffering, she didn't want a repeat of her awful childhood ,where her alcoholic mother beat her repetitively with violent slaps and sometimes prodded her with a fork till bruises appeared, at which time her mother would giggle and her cries. The figure wanted to take them to heaven with her.

I want to take them to heaven with me . I am the figure.


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