All characters are over eighteen years of age.
The girl ran through the woods.
She ran without looking, her heart pounding and her dress torn. The day was scorching and yet the girl had a core of ice in her stomach; heavy and cold and dreadful. She ran without looking where she was going, only luck saving her from injury from the countless roots and dips that the woods presented.
She did, from time to time, turn and look back. There was no pursuer, no signs of and danger and yet after those backward glances the girl always ran just a little bit faster.
The girl jumped over a dried creak and scrabbled up over the other side, her hands gripping the long-dried mud. Only when she was on the other side of the creek did she pause.
Her lungs ached, breath coming out in sharp, pained grasps. She clutched her hand, feeling the ache of her limbs follow close behind the receding wash of adrenaline. She leant against a tree, feeling the roughness of the bark against her sweat-soaked back. She closed her eyes and muttered,
"He's gone too far. He's gone to far. Momma ain't gonna put up with it."
She reached down and touched her dress. Already patched and old and faded, it was now torn down the front. Her chest- plump and pale and firm with youth- was exposed to anyone that might be watching. She groaned and reached for a bobby pin, doing her best to button up the ripped dress. She reached down to rub her wrist, seeing purple marks begin to form.
"T'hell with this," she said. "T'hell. Ah'm not going back."
She turned and stumbled towards the house.
***
The house was old and decayed but the girl wasn't particularly concerned. She'd just come from a house that wasn't old and decayed and it wasn't anything like safe. So she stepped through the threshold without much in the way of hesitation.
She walked through the old, empty rooms, rubbing her wrist. She tried the pump next to the house, getting some water; this, she drank, before splashing more over her face and chest. Sighing, she retreated back into the cool house and sat down in one of the bare corners.
After a while, she began to quietly cry.
Some time later the girl got up, wiping her nose, and sighed. She looked around. "Old Dodger's place. Huh. Ah wonder if ah can stay here forever." She got up and wandered the house afresh. "I could live here." She gave a short, little laugh. "Ah could live in this shitty, empty dump."
There was a sudden sound; a shuffling noise that sounded almost like a slithering. She started and then said, "Hello?"
Nothing. She repeated, "Hello? Ah don't meant to bother you! Ah just want somewhere to stay." She gripped her ripped dress closer to her chest. "Please?"
The slithering sound suddenly started up again. The girl paused. It didn't sound like a person. It sounded like a beast. These parts of the woods didn't have much in the way of big nasties- no bears, no cougars, or the like- but that didn't mean that her imagination wasn't able to supply her with all sorts of
ideas.
She paused, swallowing, before coming to a decision.
"Get ahold of yourself, Abbey- It ain't nothing," she muttered. "And you ain't staying here, cowering over nothing. Yup. I'm gonna go check."
Abbey walked up a set of ancient rickety stairs, wincing at the creaking. She reached the second landing and stopped. There was...something...coating the walls and floors. It was black and glossy and clung to the walls like the world's worst case of mould. It was concentrated near the attic stairs, smoothing out the straight lines of the house into something rounded and organic and alien. A scent- faint and pungent and strangely pleasant- hung in the air.
"Wasps? Damn biggest wasp nest Ah'd ever seen. And the weirdest." She paused the attic entrance, wavering.
There was a sound outside and she moved to a nearby window. A figure appeared at the far bank of the dried up creek; a massive man, heavy belly over heavier muscles. He took off his hat and looked around, clearly searching for something.
Abbey's hands flew to her mouth and she darted down along the strange corridor before flying up the attic stairway, her bare feet nearly slipping on the glossy floor. She stumbled up into the attic and looked around.
The black resin covered everything. Abbey saw strange flowers blooming here and there, their petals as dark as the walls. There were root-like vines underfoot, snaking along the floor before seamlessly merging with the walls. In one corner there was a pile of...a pile of something.
Abby crept over to the pile and began to sort through. There were scraps of clothing, piles of typed paper, a rugged looking laptop and then...
There was a sound behind her. She turned.
Something moved out of the far corner of the attic. Her breath stopped and her eyes went wide. A low moan escaped her lips.
It seemed to unfold itself from some dark corner of the room, expanding even as it slithered over to her. It swelled in size until it was as large as a bear. It looked like nothing more than some strange and unearthly octopus; a central mass surrounded by a wreath of writhing tentacles. Three eyes, dark and alien, stared at her. Its skin was dark grey with a strange haze, like an oil-slick over stormy water. It slithered over to her in a smooth motion. The pungent scent from before filled the air.
She opened her mouth to scream and nothing came out. She willed herself to move but her muscles froze. She tried to think, to speak, to do anything, to make sense of what she was seeing.
Instead the world suddenly spun, darkness crowding out the edges of her vision, and then she was falling, falling to the floor-
***
