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Wednesday 12 October 2011

Running On Part III


 Running On Part III just for our fabulous readers! But we need more readers, if you like our blog then please do tell others about it, we want as many readers as possible, please support us and get us as many readers as possible! Hope you like this part of Running On, if you have'nt read Part 1 or Part 2, then read them other Part 3 will be a spoilt spoiler! Thankyou, We love supporters in every way! #BlessTheSupporters

I was young, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew better than to look around and scream. I just quickened my pace and took sharp turns. But the footsteps followed me everywhere I went, and I could no longer refrain myself, and turned around. Behind me stood a tall, bony man with a face that resembled a skinless skull. He had a bristly moustache and wore a long, charcoal grey overcoat that reached beneath his legs. There was a grisly presence around him, and I couldn’t help but freeze on the spot and stare at him.
                “What are you looking at?” he said, his voice coarse and deep, and his accent thick Scottish. I could only shake my head and back away. I was only seven. “Where do you think you’re going?”  he asked, with a devilish look on his face. That was all he needed to say. I turned around and ran with all the strength and energy my legs could offer.
                “Don’t run, little girl, I just want to play,” he said, cackling to himself like a madman. I didn’t doubt that he was one. I didn’t really pay attention to where I was going; I just let my legs carry me away. It was a cold, frosty morning, but I was boiling hot in my red overcoat as I ran. I glanced back again to find the man walking calmly after me. Hot tears dribbled their way down my cheek. I turned another corner, the sound of my shoes slapping against the cobbled street blocking out everything else.
                I wiped my teary eyes with the back of my sleeves and ran further.
“Looks like you saved me the trouble of having to drag you to my home,” the man smiled, showing his rotten, yellow, uneven teeth. I looked around frantically, and saw houses running across the sides of the road. I hadn’t really paid attention to my surroundings. The man walked to a dark, Victorian built house made from red bricks, just like the rest of the street. Silently, he pulled out a key from his pocket and slid it into the keyhole. With a single twist of his bony hand, the door opened and he pushed it so that he could enter. But he didn't go in. Instead, he walked slowly towards me, an evil look on his face. I didn't know what to do. all I did was stand and scream. A loud, piercing scream that seemed to never end...

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