Sophia rooted herself in the corner of the staircase, her father calling her name rhythmically. If she didn't go to him, she was in trouble. If she did go to him, she was in trouble. Either way, she was in for a world of pain.
She stared at the door, silently begging for her mother to burst in and cradle her to a loving freedom.
She shivered as her father's voice became louder. Normally, he would try to sound soothing, loving, helpful. But today, Sophia could tell he wasn't happy.
Hard footsteps could be heard and she huddled closer to the staircase, willing herself to stop shaking. From where she was, all Sophia could see was her father's torso and hips.
"Sophia Faye!" He thundered. "For a five-year-old, you really don't seem to care for your father..." She heard him mutter. She waited for him to stomp off into the kitchen, then she shuffled out from the staircase and up the carpeted stairs. Silently, she ran to the last bedroom at the end of the hall. Inside, she closed the door as quietly and non-shakily as she could. She locked the door, the only one other than the front door that still locks.
She waited, curled up under the bed.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Footsteps.
Sophia's ears perked. The sound was as quiet and muffled as her's would be.
The door burst open.
"Sophia..?" His voice was quiet and shaky, as if it was hard for him to speak without screaming. It was gentle, giving her that child-urge to crawl out to him, crying, 'Daddy!'
His knees appeared and then she saw his face. She gasped, his eyes were bloodshot with rage, his teeth bared, nostrils flared.
He smiled and reached under to grab her, but she scooted away from his hand. She scrambled out from under the bed, and in her father's desire to get to her, he bumped his head. He cursed loudly, giving Sophia a chance for the door. A door that is broken with no ability to get on the other side. Frantically, she turned in a quick circle, finding the window. She threw it open and snapped her head to look at her father. He was standing now and advancing toward her, arms outstretched.
She tore a chunk of old, rotted wood from the window frame, throwing it at him. It hit him with surprising strength, and as soft as it had been, ended up splintering into his eye. Blood poured from the wound, but Sophia had seen worse. She turned back to the window and climbed out. The wind almost blew her away, but her hands had a death grip on what was left of the window frame.
Her father's hand came from nowhere and reached again for her. She screamed and let go of the window, and fell.
End of chapter
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141,620 Literary Works • 675,176 Reviews
Here to give you a review. I don't generally read horror but I looked at some of the comments and couldn't resist scaring myself a bit. Just going to remind you that these are all suggestions and you by no means have to listen to me.
Two sentences put together with a comma. Separate it with a semicolon, or a period. Up to you.
Shaky, no e there. I also think you meant "as if it was hard for him to speak..." not "as if he was hard..." Last thing, I would reword it to say "It was gentle, making her want to crawl out to him, crying..." Up to you.
Watch your tenses. I do this a lot too. In one sentence you are in past, saying smiled and reached, and in the next you say "he bumps his head."
Ok, so good sentence, but I mean... I thought she was five. I get that she is really smart, considering what she has to go through so I know why she runs around. But I don't think there are any five-year-olds that are strong enough to actually rip any wood off of anywhere, no matter how old. Just saying...
Heart. Racing. Ok. Breathing. Slightly. Yikes... just got reminded why I don't like horror... hehe. This was really good. Very scary, which I believe was your goal, so good job. This is a prologue, but I want to read the rest. I want to know what happens. It's a two story jump, and for a 5 year old, that's huge. That's a lot. Wow... good job. Can't wait to read more.
I hope my review is helpful
Greetings! I must say this is an interesting start. You really manage to set up the scene here and convey the feelings of the character. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as I read this. The suspense was very well done. Keep writing!
"I'm jumping out the window; I'm letting everything go; I'm letting everything go..." - Power, Kanye West
So, uh...Not sure how to approach this one, but I know to do so with extreme caution.
This is honestly the first piece of horror writing to make my heart rate increase by even one bpm, so congrats on that. I personally felt very afraid for the girl, as I understand the difficulty of a lack of dexterity with your legs and the inability to think straight in a crisis when you're a little kid, so this story kind of struck a nerve with me (I constantly have nightmares about being pursued by something I can't for the life of me will my body away from fast enough).
That aside, I know this is a prologue, and thus I shouldn't concern myself with major plot detail like the obviously negative relationship this girl had with her father's impetus, but that seriously creeps me out. It reminds me of that part of Mad Father where Aya's dad calls out her name while chasing her with a chainsaw in a particularly frightening manner. It makes me wonder just what her father did to make her so afraid of him.
Anyway, nice story, and I'm looking forward to reading the rest of it! No pressure!