Girl's Night

My eyes snapped open, jolting me from a dream that felt more real than reality itself. But reality, in this moment, felt like a fever dream. My hands were bound behind my back with a rough, old sheet, the fabric scratchy against my skin. My ankles were similarly secured, a cold knot of panic tightening in my chest. I thrashed, pulling, and kicking, the desperate urge to free myself a primal instinct.

The fear was a suffocating blanket, a chilling wave washing over me. What was happening? We were just having a sleepover, a girls' night in, filled with laughter and whispered secrets. How could this have gone so wrong, so fast?

My struggles yielded nothing but a growing ache in my wrists. Just as despair threatened to consume me, I heard a sound – a soft, almost hesitant step. My head whipped up, my eyes frantically searching for the source.

There she was, standing over me. Hannah, my best friend, her face illuminated by the dim light from the hallway. But something was off. Her eyes were… wrong. They were dark, the usual warmth and light extinguished, replaced by an unnerving void. There was no Hannah there, no spark of the person I knew and loved. Just a hollow shell, a terrifying emptiness staring back at me.

“What… what are you doing?” I choked out, the words a raw whisper. My voice trembled, a pathetic plea against the encroaching darkness.

She simply smiled.

It wasn't a friendly, warm smile. It was a predatory grin, a chilling display of something inhuman. My blood ran cold. It felt like a predator's smile, a promise of something awful.

Then, it began.

She went feral, her fists flying at me, over and over. The blows ached, jolts of searing pain that ripped through my flesh. I cried out, a desperate, strangled sound, a plea for help, a plea for her to stop. But my voice was swallowed by the growing terror, lost in the echoing darkness of the room.

Hannah kept going, a relentless machine fueled by some unseen, monstrous force. Each strike was brutal, each impact a sickening thud that sent shards of agony through my body. My vision blurred, the world dissolving into a kaleidoscope of pain and fear.

"Hannah," I gasped, the name a choked whisper, a desperate attempt to reach my best friend, the girl I thought I knew. "Please…"

I felt myself slipping, the edges of consciousness fading, replaced by a dull, throbbing pain. My cries for help became whimpers, then silent gasps. I don't think she’s going to stop.

She wraps her hands around my face, her touch no longer tender, but rough and insistent. Our eyes met, hers burning with a terrible, untamed light. For a brief, horrifying moment, I saw a flicker of recognition, a hint of the Hannah I knew trapped within those monstrous depths. Then, it was gone.

Suddenly, her teeth sank into my bottom lip. A searing pain shot through my head, a sickening wetness coating my chin. Like a wild animal, she pulled, tearing the tissue and muscle apart. My scream died in my throat, a strangled gurgle of agony.

I don't know how long it lasted, that savage assault, but it felt like an eternity. My mind struggled to make sense of the chaos. The restraints, meant to keep me secure, were laughably inadequate against the raw, primal fury that had erupted. I squeezed my hands through and with a violent surge of adrenaline, I pushed her off me, my body wracked with a combination of terror and raw survival instinct. I scrambled, a desperate wounded animal, towards the only escape I could see: the bathroom door at the far end of the room.

The lock clicked shut with a satisfying thud, a flimsy barrier against the horrors that lurked beyond. I sank to the cold, tiled floor, the warmth running down my face a constant, horrifying reminder of what had just transpired. My reflection stared back at me from the cracked mirror, an outrageous caricature of myself, my face a canvas of blood and terror.

My hands, slick with crimson, trembled as I touched the open wound on my lip. It ached, a throb that mirrored the pain in my heart. The blood seeped between my fingers, staining the pristine white tiles a dark, ominous red. The air was thick with the coppery tang of blood. The realization hit me like a sledgehammer – there was no way out. No escape, no hope for a better tomorrow. As I looked into my own eyes in the mirror, I saw only emptiness staring back at me. The person I once was had long been lost to the depths of despair.

I knew what I had to do. There was only one way out.

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