Walking down the hall, an uneasy feeling began creep up on her like poison ivy, pushing the breath out of her lungs. She began to feel weak and stopped at the end of her hall, where it opened up into her lounge. With shaking hands, she pulled on the string and slashed at the paper. Her nails scraped along a sheet of metal, breaking off and falling to the ground; she was left with rough, claw-like fingers.
The paper fell back, revealing a refrigerator – her refrigerator.
As she stood aghast, as a small slip of paper drifted to the floor. In the same messy handwriting as the previous one, a note was written.
Don’t try to run, don’t try to hide
We will find you
We are after all
The Hiding
Then Mary fell. Her legs gave way and her head felt as if it were filled with lead. She came crashing to the ground and collapsed to a lump of flesh.