Crimson blood splattered the ground like paint on a canvas. We ran, leaving the screaming behind us but it was no good. Nowhere was safe. Not even the lake. Stained with blood, corpses floating among the living, trying to hide. They died. Emma tripped. I plucked her off the blood-stained ground. She was limp, was she dead? She couldn’t be dead, we were the only ones still living if she was dead I would be all alone. She stirred, I breathed a sigh of relief, she was alive and I wasn't alone.

As we ran I felt weak, scared even, of course I was scared, I was so scared I hadn’t even felt it until now, at least Emma was alive. We began to sprint but I was tired, I couldn’t run anymore. As I fell to the ground I heard Emma scream. She thought I was dead. I tried to tell her I was fine, but I blacked out too fast. When I woke we were somewhere else.

We walked for hours on end, eventually finding a place to stay, a house in the forest. It reminded me of my dad but I wasn’t sure why.

Emma looked like death, her face pale and drawn. I felt like death. We could still hear the blood-curdling screeches, the vile fiend was tearing people apart. I sat on the damp wood, the moss rising through the rot. I saw something in the corner, a lip where the ground rose up a little, almost like a trapdoor. I stood and walked over to it, opening it cautiously, I had found a small underground passage, we were saved!

The door opened. Emma screamed. There it was, tentacles flailing, blood dripping from its ugly face. It had found us. I turned and we jumped.