"The Darkness" by Daria CampbellShe huddled in the front room behind the couch, the only sounds coming from the dying fire in the stone hearth, the soft swing of the clock pendulum, and her shallow, rapid breath. It was out there. She knew it.
Minutes ticked by and she could see the hands on the grandfather clock move....two....five..... She had heard its heavy breath at the windowsills before, seen the glint of its blood covered teeth through a slit between the closely drawn curtains. It would come for her. Would this be the night? It had taken so many that she loved, so much of her family. The heavy footsteps on the worn boards of the front porch made her jump. It was there. She tightened the grip in the shotgun, knowing full well that neither the weapon nor the wooden door would help if the Darkness was determined to take her like it had her father. Others had escaped, though not without scars. She had made up her mind long ago that she would fight until her last breath. She would not go quietly into the night. The footsteps retreated suddenly. She sagged against the couch as tears of relief seeped out of her eyes. Stiffly she stood and replaced the shotgun above the door. It would not be tonight.
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