Shiloh’s gaze was furious and unwavering from the grim building that was the Burnington Estate. It seemed as if the dark picture would only be complete if lightning were to strike overhead. The outer stone had gone a blue/black color over the years and climbing weeds grew in the crevasses of the stone. Lightning cracked overhead and another down poor of rain came. Shiloh frowned, a confused determination coming over her.
“Shi, I really hope your not thinking of going in there. The police have already looked everywhere…” Wes started to plea, but Shiloh was already stiffly advancing back down the trail to the gargantuan front doors. Wes had no choice but to follow after her.
As he tried to convince her that they needed to go home now, Shiloh was forming a plan. She didn’t care about the rain. She didn’t care that it was past dinnertime. She didn’t care that this was probably the most stupid thing she had ever done. All she cared about was getting Sammie. She had to be inside the Burnington Estate. And she was going to get her out.
Shiloh tugged at the locked doors. They looked about a thousand years old and as if the wood was rotting.
“Wes, do you think you could, maybe… “ She batted her eye lashes at him, and he clenched his jaw. Bracing himself for the blow, Wes ran shoulder first at the middle of the double doors. Just as Shiloh had thought, they blew right open, swing with a loud and haunting, WOOSH.
If she knew anything about Wes, it was that he was always willing to show off his strength. Football for ten years wasn’t all for nothing, right?
They walked in together, and inky blackness was all that could be seen inside. They both flipped open their phones like a flashlight, and suddenly Shiloh’s blood ran frigidly cold. Dark spots stained the floor. Not any kind of excessive bleeding, but little droplet’s from a small girl’s wounds.
The furious confidence that once inhabited Shiloh vanished like sand through her fingers. She clung to Wes’s arm, almost so tight she thought she might cut off his circulation. If he was in pain, he wasn’t showing it, but she saw equal fear in his dark eyes.
They slowly walked forward and Shiloh’s voice quivered. “Sammie?” she whispered, the silence unnerving her. “Sammie? Sammie?” they both whispered, each time gradually getting louder and moving deeper into the house. Then a heart stopping crash echoed throughout the house, making Shiloh and Wes scream. The crashing continued, as if it were coming down a hallway- towards them.
Shiloh turned around her heart beating so wildly it all ran together. It seemed that they had gone so far into the house that the dim light from the front door could no longer be found.
“Wes get me out of here,” She hissed as he had already begun to drag her out. A moan type scream came from somewhere behind them. Shiloh cut loose and split for the door screaming as if she had never used her vocal cords before. The front door finally came into view and just as they made it back out into the pounding rain, she turned around to see the dimly lit figure of a man sprinting after them, a knife in hand.
They ran past the glass house, past the overgrown garden, only to find the front gates closed, and locked. They pressed their backs against the gate, both thinking franticly of some kind of escape. Then, he was outside, running at them. A demented, twisted, torturous look cringed in his eyes, almost as if he were foaming at the mouth.
Hopelessly, Wes and Shiloh began to climb the gate. As she franticly tried to find something to hold onto, Shiloh cut her hand on a large, sharp thorn. Black sticky blood gushed slowly out of the wound. But she stopped, cold stiffness striking her when the man said her name.
“Shiloh, you don’t really want to leave, do you?” he laughed. “You came to get something, didn’t you? But you never thought of me.” He giggled at first, but began to laugh hysterically, the rain fogging his features. The clouds seemed to turn a strange grey/yellow above and the rain poured in buckets.
“Did you really think you were going to find her? DID YOU?” the man screamed. His lips curled to form a distorted smile, one side leaning down slightly, the other revealing far too many yellowing teeth.
“Who are you!” Shiloh shouted, her voice cracking and tears coming far to quickly. “What did you do to Sammie!”
A shadow fell across the man’s face and he took a few steps forward. Wes stepped in front of Shiloh. “You don’t remember me?” He smiled. “I’m Paul. From the day care.”
It all suddenly came rushing back to her in a heavy wind. When Sammie was a toddler, she had gone to a daycare. Paul had worked there, but Shiloh had never trusted him. He just didn’t seem completely right in the head. She told the director her worries, and it was later discovered that Paul had been smoking drugs at the day care, keeping a dense supply in his car. As he was being hauled away to jail, Paul had looked at her with the same, demented look he was giving her now.
“Guess what? I know where Sammie is.”
From inside the house could be heard a girls high pitch screaming- tortured, pain-filled screaming.
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