Thought Catalog

Horror

Horror

The woman’s whimpering rose to muffled screaming as a gloved hand reached out with the rusted knife. Pushed back her pretty hair, damp at the roots with blood. That hand dug into her ear, slicing off a chunk, taking a golden hoop and an industrial bar along with it. She was still squealing as the hand picked up the skin and flipped it back and forth in front of the phone camera, like he was a magician showing off a card.

I held her closer as my eyes bore into the heavy metal door keeping us secluded from the rest of the house. A wave washed over me. I was going to be sick.