GENRE – HORROR
This is a follow-up to the story I wrote for Sunday Photo Fiction – The Newton’s Cradle. It is a horror story, so you may want to read with care.
If you like prompts for fiction, go have a look:
Ciona grabbed the Newton’s Cradle and threw it across the room. “JEX!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face, and sobs catching in her throat.
Ciona wrapped her arms around herself, trying to protect herself from whatever was scaring her. Sniffing, the smell of bacon lingered in the air, along with the sound of crackling like fat popping from the meat under a grill. She walked into the kitchen and the aroma vanished instantly. Ciona felt the grill and found it stone cold.
Screaming, and no longer able to control herself, Ciona ran out the front door and closed her eyes, dropping to the floor, sobbing. Looking up, she crawled backwards as she found herself in the kitchen, which contained no door to the outside. She stopped when her back came to the cupboard. She could still hear the clack*clack*clack of the cradle. She pulled herself to her feet and grabbed a carving knife from the side. The knife still had the remnants of the last meal carved on it, but Ciona did not care. Her terror was higher than she ever thought possible. Glancing in a mirror, she saw her reflection, and blood dripping her knife. The reflection raised a finger to her lips making the motion to be quiet.