#helena-sinclair

Twelve years prior…

The sounds of little slippers had entered the hallway, as a little ginger haired girl stepped out of her room. A brown stuffed bunny with a bandaid over its eye was held in the child’s small arms, as she had began to shuffle her way to the bathroom. It was very late at night, and the halls were faintly lit with a few candles here and there. Always the child had been frightened by the darkness, but her mother had told her never to be.

After all, there was nothing to be afraid of in the dark. Such a lie that was.

She entered the bathroom, going and doing her business as children would do and washing her hands like her father had always told her to do, to rid of the nasty germs that lived on her hands. Once again she had entered the hall, though this time, there was no light left illuminated for her. It was strange, but the girl thought she could see-

Yes, what she was seeing was right; she saw golden eyes staring at her, and immediately fear crept through as the snarls sounded. Usually any child would stand there, unable to comprehend the situation at hand, but not this little one; she refused to do so. So rather, she turned on her slippered heel and ran. Ran as fast as her little legs could carry her.

Her screaming was the music of the night, automatically awakening her pregnant mother, but making her sleeping father stay asleep thanks to lack of sleep. The woman had dashed out into the hall to see what the matter was, and was greeted by the embrace of her child and the golden eyes of the child’s chaser. Knowing full well she would never allow her child to get hurt, the woman asked for her daughter to go into the room to get her father. And much like a child would, she did.

Little feet rushed into the room as the little girl tried with all of her might to stir her father. But no results happened. She decided then to grab a stick, thinking this might help off ward whatever was out there. Though after she had grabbed it, the screaming started.

Quickly the little one dashed out the room and began to scream herself. What she saw could never again be unseen by the pure innocent eyes of a child. What she had seen that night was her mother’s scared eyes as she tried to fend off the beast, who was ripping flesh after piece of flesh from her. At this point her father had finally awoken for some odd reason, and tried to fend the beast off himself.

But it was too late. Much too late. The woman was devoured in seconds, few bits of remaining pieces of her laid strewed about the room. And the beast had been killed afterwards by her father, to whom let the creature lie on the floor bleeding to death, as he merely fell to his knees next to his daughter and cradled her close as she began to weep for what seemed to be eternity.