Alone

Rhiannon stirred restlessly. It was a hot Summer night. Her window was open and her ceiling fan was on full blast. The simple white cotton sheet that had been draped over her naked body was now crumpled in a pile on the floor.

She tossed and turned, her blonde hair was matted with sweat against her porcelain skin. Beads of sweat ran in between her breasts. She absent-mindedly traced the line with her finger, her French tipped nail gliding delicately over her skin.

Her eyes fluttered open. She had always loved her eyes and had deemed them as her best feature. Blue-green eyes with a flicker of yellow. Framed by long black lashes, her eyes constantly changed colour depending on her mood. Blue when happy, grey when tired and green when...

Her hand began to caress her stomach. Light, feathery touches. A slight smirk appeared on her lips. She knew that her eyes were now jade green.

The moonlight shone brightly through her lace curtain. Her bellybutton ring glistened as the light bounced off the diamond jewellery.

As her right hand began to explore her body, her left hand continued to play with her own breasts, tweaking her nipples until they were hard as diamonds. She licked her index finger, rubbing it slowly around her erect nipple, the moisture from her mouth causing it to harden even further.

She groaned as her right hand found her aching centre. Her index finger circled her clitoris, refusing to touch the delicate little bud for fear of coming too soon. She wanted to tease herself, to pretend it was him touching her.

Turning her head slightly, Rhiannon plunged her index finger into her moist body, her inner muscles gripping the intruder with enthusiasm. Rhiannon arched her back slightly as she added another finger, imagining the whole time that it was him.

In her fantasies she had a new playmate. He would tease her unmercifully before taking her with such intensity that she was convinced he'd split her body in two. She use to imagine him tracing over her curves with his tongue, his hands fondling her large, supple breasts, squeezing the nipples hard until she begged him to fuck her. He would always say no at first, teasing her to the point that she couldn't take it anymore and forcefully would grab him, pulling his body down so it covered hers and wrapping her legs around his hips, refusing to let go until he gave her what she needed.

Her breathing quickened as she continued to explore her body. Her head thrashed about from side to side on the pillow as she pictured his tongue making tiny circles on her most sensitive spot before biting down, nipping her flesh, marking her as his own.

She licked her lips, withdrawing her fingers which were now slick with her wetness. Her body was prime, every nerve alive and tingling as she reached for her night stand table drawer. Pulling it open, she reached inside, pulling out her eight inch vibrator. A gag gift from one of her girlfriends, Rhiannon found it most useful in times of deep frustration.

It had been three months since she felt a man's touch upon her body. Three long, agonising months. And this so called 'gag gift' was perfect for making her forget that atrocity...for a few hours at least.

Rhiannon licked her lips, imaging it was his erect cock as she opened her mouth. The tip of her tongue flickered the head of the shaft before she greedily sucked it into her mouth. She was determined to take the full length of her 'toy' as it was the same size as his, although he was much wider than the chrome vibrator was.

She relaxed, her focus one hundred per cent on sucking 'the beast' as she affectionately called it into her hot mouth. Tears formed in her eyes as her gag reflex kicked in, but she persisted before finally being triumphant with her task.

Rhiannon tweaked her nipple, rolling it around between her thumb and forefinger as she continued to perfect her blowjob skills. She felt herself cry out as an unexpected shudder ripped through her body. She really should have known better than to play with her sensitive breasts while she was on the verge of a climax. 

She relaxed her hand, letting it fall to the bed. She would have to show some self control. Although, self control and her never really did go hand in hand. 

Removing the vibrator from her mouth and flexing her jaw muscles, Rhiannon turned it on. Its low humming broke the silence of the night as she slid it in between her breasts, pushing them against it, feeling the vibrations which gave her skin goosebumps.

Squeezing and kneading her breasts like he would, she felt another spasm pass through her. Just a mild one, nothing too intense, but she knew if she wanted that Earth-shattering orgasm, now was the time.

She took the vibrator and turned it off. She playfully rubbed it against her clitoris before inserting it into her. 

In and out. In and out. In and out. As she inserted the full length of her toy into her aching body, she turned it back on. A scream tore from her throat as the vibrations pulsated, her inner muscles contracting, her clitoris throbbing as she came hard.

Rhiannon grabbed her pillow with such force her knuckles turned white as she arched her back high off the bed, her toes gripping at the fitted sheet as her orgasm passed through her body. She could feel it from her core to her feet. From her feet to her hair follicles. She felt like she was on fire.

Reaching down between her creamy white thighs, Rhiannon switched off her vibrator. Jumping a little as she removed it from her quivering pussy, she accidentally brushed it against her clitoris which sent another mini orgasm through her body.

Her face was flushed and her eyes were glassy as she put her toy away. Her breathing was short and shallow but she was completely satisfied.

She rolled onto her side, her eyes closing as she imagined him wrapping his arms around her, pulling her against his toned chest, holding her as she drifted off into a peaceful sleep

Attack From The Deep

Sitting on his surfboard in the middle of the Pacific Ocean sat Sam Anderson. His shaggy blonde hair fell across his forehead, shielding his baby blue eyes from the golden rays of the sun. His toned physic and tanned chest had a light smattering of hair while his swimming trunks were so low on his hips that it left nothing to the imagination of passes by.

Sam's hand dipped into the cool water as his eyes scanned the horizon. There hadn't been many waves today but he was determined to catch one last one. 

Sam never use to be a surfer. By trade he was an accountant, but after a semi-violent breakdown that caused a co-worker a broken nose, Sam decided to take some time off. For a few weeks he sat around his house before finally deciding to venture out. 

He had taken surfing lessons at a request of his long time buddy, Rick Faulkner, who was as slick with the board as he was the ladies. Every night Rick had a new conquest, or two, and every morning he would delightfully spill the entire story to Sam, who had to fake an interest in what Jessica, Holly, Catalina, Kimberly, Sasha, Jennifer, Amber, Ashley, Riley, and Mackenzie had done the night before. 

Today had started no differently. Sam had risen first and barely made it to the kitchen before Rick had appeared, stretching and yawning with a stupid grin on his face. “Man, them Aussie chicks are fucking fantastic!” Rick declared as Sam put on a pot of coffee. Rolling his eyes Sam had a feeling he was going to need a pot of Irish coffee to get through this conversation.

Last night Rick had dragged him out to a bar, citing that Sam needed to get laid. Sam, who believed he was perfectly fine, politely refused any girl who approached him. So when Rick appeared with two Australian beauties, Sam forced himself to smile and even ended up buying the lovely ladies a drink.

Sam forced a smile to his face, leaning against the kitchen counter as Rick went into details about their sexual exploits for the night. “And I mean she could totally bend her body around and still manage to kiss me. Oh, and her tongue. Sammy, my boy, that woman knows how to use her tongue.”

Sam drummed his fingers along the counter top. “Do you even remember her name?” he asked. Rick looked a little shocked. “Of course I do. It was...Stacey?”

“Sally. And what about her friend?”

Rick looked thoughtful. “Julie? No, wait, Jamie.”

Sam shook his head. “Paige,” he replied, pouring himself a large cup of coffee. “Do you know anything about them?”

“OK, Sammy, I'm going to stop you there.” Rick held up his hands as though to defend himself. “I don't give a shit what these girls do for a living, nor do I care what their grandmother's name is. We had a good time and that's it. I'm not looking for a commitment.”

“Obviously.”

Sam took a sip of his coffee, the warm liquid pooling in his mouth before sliding down his throat. Rick's eyebrow shot upwards. “And what the hell is that suppose to mean?” he demanded, following Sam onto the deck.

“Women aren't objects that you just cast aside once you're done.” Even though he wasn't looking directly at Rick, he could feel his eyes boring holes into him. Rick opened his mouth to argue his case when a noise from inside had him swivel in his chair.

The two girls, tired and dishevelled, were scrambling to gather their belongings before attempting unsuccessfully to sneak out the front door.

“Ladies, there's a pot of coffee that's freshly made,” Sam called. Stacey waved her hand and shouted back that they were fine. Rick lent back in the chair, a broad smile on his face. “See? What did I tell you? They come in, have a good time then leave. It's the way the man upstairs intended it.”

“God?”

“No, me.” With that Rick stood up, patted Sam on the shoulder then headed back upstairs.

Sam watched his friend move inside. Rick was insufferable at times. His macho no-nonsense ways were infuriating to Sam who respected women. Well, he respected all women except his ex-wife. His hands balled into fists as he thought about her.

Sam stood up and calmly walked back into the kitchen. He placed his coffee cup on the bench before pulling open a drawer. He reached his hand inside and pulled out a large kitchen knife. He turned his head as the shower upstairs turned on.

Sam closed the drawer and began his ascension of the stairs.

On the landing, Sam turned left, his head cocked slightly. He licked his lips as he made his way down the hall to Rick's room.

He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned. The door swung open. He could hear Rick singing in the shower. Off key as always.

Sam silent walked across the carpet, his hand outstretched. He flung open the bathroom door.

Rick was in the shower, his eyes closed, his mouth open singing some God awful TV commercial jingle. Sam opened the glass door, knife raised high in the air and drove it repeatedly into his roommate. 

Blood splattered across the white tiles, as Rick's face twisted horribly, his body contorting in a failed attempt to get away from the razor sharp knife.

Just like the scene from Psycho, Sam continued to stab at Rick until his lifeless body fell to the floor of the shower stall, the water rinsing the blood down the drain.

Sam smiled as the water from the ocean washed over his knees. He had carried Rick's naked body down the stairs and carefully placed it inside his surfboard bag, then carried him outside to the beach.

It was deserted. The white sandy shore gave way to the beautiful blue ocean. 

Making sure he was alone, Sam unzipped the bag and dragged Rick's body out. With more effort that he would like to admit, Sam placed Rick on the end of his surfboard and paddled out into the ocean.

He found a spot to relax, his feet dangling in the water. A quick glance over his shoulder showed that the beach was still empty, so with a heave, Sam pushed Rick's body into the ocean, then paddled a little closer back to shore.

As he sat there, the early morning sun playing on his face, Sam noticed something bobbing up and down in the water. He squinted, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. “Damn,” he said under his breath as he watched the body bob up and down like some kind of top.

He looked around wildly. An elderly man and his dog had appeared on the sand for their morning walk.

Panic rose in Sam's throat. If a big wave rolled in, he was screwed. Rick's body would wash ashore then he'd have to explain what the hell happened. And he hadn't even cleaned the bathroom yet.

That's when he saw something out the corner of his eye. He craned his neck. The water was smooth like glass, undisturbed by what was lurking beneath.

The body stopped bobbing. It disappeared altogether. Sam watched in amazement as the ocean turned red, chunks of human flesh floating to the foamy surface. Never once did it cross his mind to leave the water.

A long dark shape swum under his board, its fin scraping the underside. Sam carefully pulled his feet up. It was too late to make a break for it. Any splashing on his behalf would result in whatever was in the water to turn its attention to him.

Sam watched in both awe and fear as Rick's body was torn limb by limb in a frenzy.

Sam craned his neck to see what type of sharks they were. Not that he really could tell the difference anyway.

He leaned forward, getting onto his knees and peering into the water. The last thing he saw was the monstrous jaws of a Great White as it rocketed itself out of the water, taking his upper body into its gaping mouth with one quick sweep. As the beast hit the water, its jaws clenched, breaking Sam's back and tearing him in half.

A Message From Rhiannon

Hi everyone!

Just a quick little message to let you know what's happening in my life.  Firstly, I am still writing for www.trulydisturbing.com so if you want to see my works just type in Ahlephia in the search box (you can also type Rhiannon Irons)

Secondly, I want to thank everyone for the warm reception of James Thompson to this blog.  His amazing short stories are literally lighting up this blog and your comments have been encouraging and fantastic.  Thank you for all the love!

Thirdly, James and I have decided to team up to bring one of my horrors to life.  The Roommate is currently undergoing James' treatment from story to script to which then I will film.  Getting very excited for that and you should be too because it will be posted on here FIRST!!!

A busy life in writing and all your support means the world.  As requested, Trent will be back with another Q & A so keep your questions coming.  You can send them directly to Trent_Faulkner@hotmail.com or else, leave them down below in the comments box.

Once again, from the bottom of my heart, Thank you!  You are all amazing people.

Cheers

Rhiannon Irons!

Circus Of Horrors

Hey guys and gals, the UK's James here again with my second short story, this time we enter the evil world of clowns. Hope you enjoy and I look forward to your comments!

As they stepped out of the car rain engulfed Caroline and Richard. This was the first day of Autumn where the weather really had turned and a storm was brewing. It was their 3 year anniversary and this year it was Richard’s turn to decide where they celebrated it. Unfortunately for Caroline he had chosen the one place she had no desire to visit whatsoever, the carnival and circus that Raven Falls held once a year.

It wasn’t so much the carnival that got to her but the circus itself contained her greatest of fears, clowns. And these were not any old clowns. The circus clowns were specifically attired to scare the audience witless with their unique masks showcasing the most evil of looks possible. Ever since she was a young girl Caroline feared what she called the ‘ultimate freaks of the circus’, with recurring clown nightmares haunting her throughout childhood.

Trudging across the soaked muddy grounds towards the carnival, their feet sunk into the dirt with every step and a squelch could be heard with every movement, the sort of sound you would expect from those low-budget horror films when part of someone’s anatomy is subjected to extreme violence.

Eventually they reached the entry gates, either side consisting of a pillar topped by an unusual looking gargoyle crouched with a sadistic smile. With her mind at unease she began to imagine them morphing into two clowns; yellow eyes that pierced through her like blades, crimson red hair that drooped down onto a ghostly a white face and jagged teeth that looked like they could be used to terrifying effect. Then the crouching turned into standing up and the clowns turned their heads towards Caroline, yellow eyes widening and then they pounced towards her. Caroline screamed.

“Babe, are you okay?!” a worried Richard turned to her. Her imagination had got the best of her and she squinted a few times in an attempt to get the images out of her vision.

“I’m sorry, you just know how clowns freak the shit out of me, I’m just being silly. Just stay with me and I will be fine.” Her tone clearly showing that her confidence in such an environment was waning. Despite this they carried on through to the bustling carnival.

Bright lights shimmered in every direction and young children screamed and shouted at parents at every possible ride and bazaar. Bumper cars, a helter-skelter and other rides covered the grounds before reaching a red and white canopy that towered above everything else, much like a skyscraper that looked completely out of place. And naturally on top of this towering structure was a huge constructed clown leaning out towards the entrance with an evil smile on its face. Caroline’s heart sank, this was the stuff of nightmares but she had to grin and bare it.

“Whoa, I wasn’t expecting it to be this huge! This is great!” the excitement from Richard a complete mirror of Caroline’ thoughts.

“The best thing babe is that we have got a meeting with the clowns after the show too, VIPs baby!!”

With this statement Caroline had to grit her teeth and refrain from unleashing an angered verbal attack. Richard had been good in letting her go to places she wanted to in the previous years and this year was his, she didn’t want anything to spoil that. She simply smiled and proceeded with their walk to the entrance.

Once at the entrance they were greeted by a young man in a black suit checking the tickets. With a sharp smile he checked theirs and simply responded with a nod of the head and, “Enjoy the last great show you will ever see!”

Caroline felt a shudder down her spine; those words were the last thing she wanted to hear with an impending horror circus awaiting her.

Sitting down in the front row the two of them settled and soon the show was up and running. The stage came alive with flashings lights, pumping circus-style music and what appeared to be masses and masses of clowns each performing their own stunts and routines. Caroline’s breathing stepped up a notch and she could not help but clench the hand of Richard throughout. This was her living nightmare.

An hour and a half of terror later and the show came to an end. Waiting until the crowds had disembarked, Richard and Caroline head backstage to meet the stars of the show. Despite a whole number of clowns appearing on stage they were met by one, introducing himself as Kane.

“Sorry guys, the others are just preparing themselves because as VIPs you get an extra special after-show. If you sir could come and get ready with me and ma’am you just go back to your seat we can get the show up and running.”

Richard met this with excitement and looked at Caroline.

“Babe this is fantastic! Go sit down and I will see you in a minute!”

Reluctantly with a disturbed look on her face she head back to her seat and awaited yet another show in which she would wince and genuinely be wishing she were somewhere else. She knew little of what was in store for her next.....

With at least 20 minutes passed until she had heard from anyone Caroline’s heart began to beat so hard that it began to hurt her chest. Panic began to set in as thoughts ran through her mind that a prank was about to be undertaken at her expense. Rising from her chair she looked set to demand answers.

Then she stopped dead as she experienced a feeling her body had never felt before. She froze and could not move a muscle through sheer shock. She had heard a terrifying scream, a scream that would torture the innocent through to their bones, a scream that personified suffering and death. To make matters worse she recognised who was screaming despite never hearing such a sound ever come from his vocal chords. It was Richard followed by sadistic laughs, clearly from the clowns she hated so passionately.

Never had she been subjected to such painful cries from her one true love. She didn’t know what to do. With no-one around and psychotic clowns on the loose she had little chance of escape. The screams soon turned to laughter, the clowns had clearly enjoyed their sadism at the expense of her partner.

Suddenly the lights dimmed and the circus music commenced. She stood, frozen on the spot, still unsure of what to do. With the curtains flinging open just one clown entered the spotlight. She had not seen this particular individual in the show.

With the most sadistic laugh she had ever heard the clown pointed towards her direction.

“I’m the star of the show now bitch!”

She felt like her heart should stop at that exact moment, her hands clammed up and all over her body a feeling of numbness overcame her. It suddenly dawned on her that this clown she knew perfectly well. RICHARD!

“What’s wrong with you Rich? What have they done to you?!” Caroline couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her one true love had changed in an instant and was now a stranger to her. The only thought in her mind now was to run, run as far away from the place as possible.

Turning her still numb body towards the exit her sight soon met with the sadistic eyes of the remainder of the clowns. Each laughing hysterically at her petrified state they walked towards her as she fell to the floor.

With clowns all circled round her helpless body, Richard overlooked her and simply uttered the words.

“Welcome to the show.........”

Snowflake

Staring out of the log cabin window, Rhiannon sighed. She was alone, tucked away from the outside world, determined to finish her novel. She had purposely rented the cabin high on the mountain top in hopes of finishing it in serenity and peace but alas she was feeling more like Jack Nicholson in The Shining with every moment she spent up there alone.

Of course, Jack had gone completely cuckoo bananas even with people present.

She sighed again, watching a single snowflake dance in the icy breeze. Its pattern captured her attention. So delicate and fragile, Rhiannon felt like if she touched it, the snowflake would disintegrate in her hand.

She turned, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. She was never one for the cold but she had always wanted to experience a mountain retreat in the snow. Although, as she stood in the log cabin, she couldn't imagine what was so appealing about freezing her ass off miles from any civilisation.

Her laptop sat on the table. That blinking cursor had taunted her in the city and now it was taunting her up here. She had written most of her novel but seemed to be stranded on chapter twenty and the constant staring at the screen was slowly beginning to drive her bat-crap crazy.

She sighed again, eyeing the screen in what seemed to be staring contest. The cursor blinked. Rhiannon smiled. Victory was hers. Now if only she could write something.

She began to pace the large, open living space of the cabin. She stared at the walls, hoping against all hope that something would speak to her (not literally of course) and cause her some motivation. Nothing did.

Shivering, Rhiannon rubbed her arms again. She had intended on making a fire over an hour ago but then a freak blizzard had blown in and she wasn't going to chance it to run out to the wood pile near the shed. Instead, she had wrapped a crocheted blanket around herself and perched herself delicately on the window seat so she could watch the storm.

Now that it was over, Rhiannon decided to brave the cold in hopes of making a fire. She pulled open the door and let out a scream of surprise as the icy winds whipped her face with such ferocity that she was convinced she had an icicle or two handing from her nose.

Rhiannon sucked in a deep breath and ran outside into the snow. Her heavy boots left impressions as she sprinted the best she could to the shed. 

Picking up a few small logs of firewood, Rhiannon made her way back to the cabin. She kicked the door closed, slamming it shut, as she got inside, shivering and wishing she had have stayed in Australia. It was Summer there and chances are if she were home, she'd be at the beach being burnt to a crisp by the sun while sitting on her surfboard idly watching the waves. Instead she was freezing her ass off in a log cabin in the middle of nowhere in Utah, USA.

She loaded the fireplace quickly, lighting it before the last log came to rest atop the others. She placed her hands in front of her, warming them. Though the fire had just roared to life, Rhiannon was feeling much warmer.

She grabbed her laptop and took a seat on the oversized stuffed couch that smelt a little of mothballs. She had concluded earlier that the smell was 'woodsy' and that it was something she had to get use to because she'd be living with it for three months.

Her fingers were paused above the keyboard. Her index finger began to twitch. Her mind was blank. Her eyes focused on the fire, the flames hypnotising her.

BANG!

Rhiannon jumped, her head on a swivel. The back door had blown open and snow was starting to enter the cabin. “Fuck.” Getting up off the couch Rhiannon rushed over to the door, slamming it shut. She took a couple of steps back towards the couch before pausing. She turned and looked back at the door. She remembered kicking it closed when she entered it before with the firewood.

Panic washed over her and she quickly made her way back over to the fireplace. Arming herself with a fire poker, Rhiannon began to search the cabin.

The cabin itself was a luxury cabin with three bedrooms and a grand living space with open plan kitchen and dining. She really didn't need all the space to herself but it was the last cabin available and the lady who owned it made her a nice, tempting offer.

Now she was spooked within an inch of her life.

She crept silently to the hall. She could hear voices speaking in hushed toned. She craned her neck, listening carefully. While she couldn't hear what they were saying, she did notice that they were coming from the bedroom at the far end of the hall. The room she had chosen to sleep in herself.

Raising the fire poker to her chest, Rhiannon sneaked down the hall, pressing herself against the wall. She got to the door. She took a deep breath and raised the poker above her head, her hand waiting on the doorknob.

With a trembling hand, Rhiannon turned the doorknob. The door to the bedroom swung open.

There stood Mrs. Cartier, the lady that offered her the cabin at a reduced rate. Standing with her were two other men both rugged up in snow suits. Rhiannon noted that the bright orange colour was an odd choice for thieves.

Msr. Cartier looked up at her and smiled sweetly. Rhiannon, highly confused, lowered the poker and smiled back as the two men bent down to pick something up. 

Rhiannon edged closer, trying to get a better look.

She gasped, her hand covering her mouth, her other hand releasing the fire poker.  It fell to the floor with a loud thud.

The two men were trying to pick up...her.

Her skin was pale, paler than normal, her blonde hair covering her face. A single streak of blood turned part of her hair pink. She looked down at herself. She was still wearing her jeans and the white sweater her father had given her before she left.

Rhiannon felt nauseated. She lent against the cabin wall as the two men took her body out of the bedroom. Mrs. Cartier came up to her, a smile still etched on her face.

“What happened?” Rhiannon asked, her blue-green eyes filled with tears.

“You died, my dear,” Mrs. Cartier said, small winkles appearing around her grey eyes.

“How?” Rhiannon couldn't remember. Her lips began to tremble as Mrs. Cartier told her how the blizzard was so fierce that the wind was able to pick up objects and use them as projectiles. A rock had come through her bedroom window, hitting her in the temple, killing her instantly.

Rhiannon began to cry. Tears fell down her cheeks but she couldn't feel the wetness of them. She began to shake uncontrollably.

Mrs. Cartier turned and began to walk out of the room but Rhiannon called out after her.

“Wait! Oh please, wait!” Mrs. Cartier turned back around, suddenly looking much older than she did moments ago. “How is it that you can see me?” Rhiannon asked.

Mrs. Cartier smiled. “Because I'm dead too,” she said, her voice raspy from the cold air. “We all are.”

Rhiannon shook her head. “I don't understand,” she said truthfully. “How can you be dead? I spoke to you when I was alive.”

Mrs. Cartier smiled. “You spoke to my daughter, Linda Cartier. I am her mother, Desiree Cartier. And Vince, Linda's husband was the one that checked you in.”

“I can't believe this.” Rhiannon was beside herself. How could a single rock end her life? It wasn't fair. Mrs. Cartier reached over and touched Rhiannon's arm. “You had better believe it, my dear, because it happened.” Her hand crumbled, skin and bone fell to the wooden floor, the dust particles flying through the air. “And now that you're here, I can move on.”

“What do you mean?”

“When someone new arrives, the person that invited them has to leave. Those are the rules.”

“Rules?” The more Mrs. Cartier told her, the more confused Rhiannon became. “But Linda was the one who invited me, not you?”

Mrs. Cartier smiled knowingly. “Possession is something you will learn in due time, my dear,” she said, through chapped lips.

“Possession?”

Mrs. Cartier nodded as her body began to disintegrate at a rapid pace. First her feet, then her legs, then her torso and arms. Finally her head fell to the ground before turning into a pile of bone dust. 

Rhiannon dropped to the floor, her head in her hands. She was dead. A ghost no less. She lifted her head and screamed...

* * * * *

Her eyes opened. Rhiannon glanced around. She was sitting at the table, her laptop in front of her, its blinking cursor taunting her. Outside the wind picked up, howling through the trees. Rhiannon shivered. She stood up, stretching. 

She started down the hall, rubbing her arms. She placed her hand on the doorknob when she froze. Deja vu. She released the door handle, backing away slowly. 

Rhiannon had gone into that bedroom to get a blanket and that's when the rock came hurtling towards the window, breaking the glass and hitting her in the temple, killing her. Or was that all a dream?

Rushing to the bathroom, Rhiannon flipped on the light and stood staring at her reflection. Her blonde hair framed her face, her blue-green eyes were full of life and most importantly, there was no cut on her forehead.

“I'm not dead,” she said softly, feeling her body. The warmth of her sweater penetrated her skin. The feel of the denim on her hands reassured her that she was alive and well.

“It was just a dream,” she told herself, stepping out of the bathroom. “Just a very bad dream.”

CRASH!

Rhiannon jumped. She slowly made her way to the bedroom. She opened the door just a enough to poke her head through. Sitting in the middle of the floor was a rock no bigger than her fist. The wind howled through the broken glass as a single snowflake came to rest on the bed.