It was so dark that she felt she hadn’t opened her eyes. She stumbled to her feet and lost her balance, landing in a heap again. The ground, hard and cold, felt wet to the touch. She tried to look at her hand in front of her face but could see nothing. The silence choked her and circled her like a pitch black shadow of a hyena. She could smell rusted metal, bitter and wretched, and felt the wetness drying a little on her fingertips.
A sound, like a sword pulled from its sheath. True silence.
The Sword by C.J. CummingsPosted: October 27, 2015 by Shade's Progress in C.J. Cummings, Slasher Film
Tags: 100 word story, attack, Battle, blood, C.J. Cummings, creative writing, dead, flash fiction, microfiction, murder, scrawl brawl, serial killer, short story, Slasher film, sword