She heard whispers. Quiet and menacing, they coursed through the darkness like little scratching claws on worn, wooden floorboards. She stood still with her eyes closed shut, waiting for the silence to ensue again. But it never came.
Those whispers intensified as the dark years crept on. Quiet and menacing whispers were no more. Now, terrifying and chilling screams inhabited her world. Little scratching claws were now ferocious banging fists on steel walls.
The metal bending noise consumed her and like a noose, it tightened with every step she took deeper into the shadows.
Light that once trickled in to keep her anchored had long vanished. The darkness was now the familiar slap she’d become accustomed to.
She angled the cold, sharp steel until the flickering candlelight danced over the blade. The dark red blood dripped fluidly over the edge of the knife, pooling in the puddle by her feet.
Heat coursed through her as she took a deep breath. Moments passed, then a perfect silence embraced her like a lover.
She looked into the fading eyes below her as life reluctantly escaped. She could hear the heartbeat in the quiet room, slowly and slower until it finally stopped.
Death brought her silence and she smiled.