Page 39 - HEF Pen & Ink 2022

The door said “CLOSED” on it, but it was un- locked so I let myself in. It was dark inside. I called out for Mr. Linden a few times with no response. I guess it’s time to play and find the light switch. I blindly followed the wall and all of a sudden I fell flat on my face. Ow. A few steps forward I found it and turned around to see what I tripped on. It was... a vine? Like the ones at pumpkin patches in October. That is, well, odd to say the least. I decided to fol- low it. It slithered across the whole shop and up behind the counter. That’s when I saw him. Mr. Linden, on the ground, with a bloody vine protruding from his chest. What. The. Hell.
I let out a loud shriek in fear and reached for
my phone to call 911. When I begin to dial
the numbers, a vine whips it out of my hand, sending it shattered to the ground. In a flash of panic, I turn and sprint to the door, but it’s locked. I pound and I scream but no one can hear me. No one is coming. It’s then that I feel a tight grip around my ankle that pulls me to the ground. I let out one more cry only for it to be silenced by a thorny stem stretching into the bottom of my neck. And as I fall to the ground choking on my blood from the deep cuts it has made in my throat I make eye contact with the sunken eyed man from before.
“Sorry” he says apologetically, “but it has to feed.”
By Katelyn Gonzalez
By Kylee Hamper
37