Gothic Short Stories

997 Words2 Pages

Bash! the wooden front door swung open, interrupting the silent sunset. My father stumbled in tripping over the deteriorating ledge of the door. Then immediately twisted striking his large fleshy pink hands closing the door, his fingers fumbled as they reached for the rusty crimson chain lock. The oddness of the situation caused confusion to fill the air fogging up my mind. He took a profound breath whilst placing his hands over his pounding heart. Slowly slithering down the door, causing the century old brown paint to flake off and fall to the ground.

‘Why were you running?’, ‘Who were you running from!?’.

Tension began to grow gradually in my chest like a cooker building steam ready to explode at any second. My father’s flushed faced …show more content…

They marched with pounding feet towards the heart of the village containers of kerosene in hand. One of the faces turned in my direction the gaze so direct it pierced my soul like a spear. There was a slight pause of realisation as the stranger's eye's widened with wonder. He screamed “Sikh!” pointing his index finger in my direction, simultaneously all the members turned their heads and experienced the same awe. The mob's direction has changed, now facing me with black, gothic raven- like eyes marching passionately. The hair on my arms rose creating tiny irregular goosebumps. Fear crept in with its bony devilish nails caressing my shoulders ready to consume me. A strong jerk at my nape pulled me backwards out of the range of the mob and fear. My father slammed the window, bolting the lock, his veins pulsing and a Kirpan clasped in his right hand. Our eyes met only for a second, as his warm grip wrapped around me and we ventured the last set of stairs together. As I reached the third floor I could clearly hear explosive screams and shouts from the front door. I shivered to the bone scrambling into the candle lit room on the third floor.

We positioned ourselves in a perfect circle hand in hand, praying, we whispered “Waheguru” in unison the white noise of our voices compared drastically of that outside. I closed my twitching eyes, my lids felt damp from the cold sweat perspiring from my forehead. My organs lined up on a circus tightrope doing back flips, twists, and

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