The Hooded Man.(Stephen Pearmine) A new short story. Horror. 

In bed, Kathy heard a noise from outside. It might've been the neighbour's cat jumping on top of the wheelie bin again. For a few seconds, she froze in fear. Without thinking, she turned on the lamp that stood on a cabinet by the bed. Straightaway she turned it off again because of what had happened lately. If someone knew the house was occupied, this could cause trouble for her. 
  Was she being paranoid? 
  Recently there had been three murders in the city. The police didn't have a clue who it was, and everyone was terrified of going out at night. The problem was the perpetrator didn't kill his victims on the street, but somehow this person would find a way into their home. The only advice the police would give was to lock all the doors and close all the windows, and if there was a knock at the door, don't answer it. Since the first murder of a middle-aged woman was aired on the news, most people suspected it to be an angry husband or something. Four days later, the second murder took everyone by surprise, realising someone was purposely going out to kill. After the third, that's when it struck home that there was a serial killer on the loose. Kathy's parents lived on the other side of the city. It was hard not to worry about them with what was going on. She'd spoken to them three hours ago, and they seemed fine. 
  It was just past midnight. In the last hour, she undressed and got into bed. Tomorrow Kathy wasn't working, so no need to get up early. The cat she suspected had made that noise earlier had probably strolled back into its garden, looking for food of some kind. She was meeting her friend tomorrow morning at eleven to catch up; she needed some sleep. Kathy closed her eyes and thought of walking along a picturesque beach, as this always did the job of relaxing her when, through the silence, there came what sounded like laughter coming from the garden again. Her heart raced, and she put a hand up to her mouth. Was it the killer? Had they chosen her tonight? Out of sheer terror, she lay there shaking. Her worst nightmare then became a reality; there was a knock at the front door from downstairs. Who was that, and why would they come round at this hour? Unless...? 
  What should she do?
  The quilt still over her, like a comfort blanket, Kathy stayed where she was. Please don't knock again; please don't knock again.
  Another loud knock echoed through the house. What if it was the police checking she was okay because they might've driven past and seen someone in her garden? So many thoughts invaded her brain it was driving her mad. What should she do?
  Ten seconds after the second knock, a third one was heard, not so loud this time. Kathy decided, not knowing if it was a good idea or not, to creep to the bedroom window and look down and see who it was. Kathy got out of bed. It was chilly. Yet again that question entered her head: Why would anyone call round at this hour? On the chair near the window was her thick red dressing gown. 
  Maybe another person had been brutally killed close to this area, and the police wanted people to know and stay vigilant.
  Once her gown was tightly around her, Kathy proceeded with caution to the window. The curtains were drawn. With her right hand, she carefully moved the curtain a little and looked down to her front garden. It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust. There was nobody there. 
  So who was knocking on her door two minutes before? 
  Suddenly Kathy observed a small figure at the entrance. 
  Who was that? 
  She looked at the road in front of her, and there was no one else about. All the lights in the neighbour's windows were off apart from Mrs. Jameson's, who always stayed up until the early hours of the morning watching TV. The person took a step backwards from the door, and Kathy now noticed it was a child. The thing that worried her was, why was a child calling around her house at this time unless there was something wrong? Maybe she should go to the entrance and check it out.
  With her dressing gown keeping her warm, Kathy picked up her mobile phone and turned the torch on, then walked out of the bedroom and along the short hallway to the top of the stairs. She made her way down slowly; all the main lights were off as she didn't want to draw attention to herself. The light from the phone helped greatly as she proceeded to the door. 
  A metre from the entrance she asked, "What do you want?"
  There was only silence. 
  A small shadow appeared through the glass of the door. A girl's voice answered, "I think someone is following me; I'm really scared."
  Kathy thought the worst because there was a maniac on the loose. "Why are you out so late? Where are your parents?"
  It took the little girl a couple of seconds to reply, "I was with my mum. We left her friend's house, two streets from here, an hour ago. A man came out of nowhere and attacked my mum... At this point, she began to sob.
  "Carry on, sweetheart. Tell me what happened."
  The girl said emotionally, "I remember running as fast as I could away from him. I found myself on this street not knowing where to go. Then I saw a light come on briefly in your window, and so I was hoping you'd help me. I knocked on other doors, but no one answered. I was so desperate."
  Kathy believed she was telling the truth and picked up the key from a shelf close by, unlocking the door. She opened it and ushered the girl, who looked about 9, in quickly. She turned the key in the lock so no one would get in. The girl looked distraught, wrapping both arms around Kathy's waist. Kathy placed the key back on the shelf and put her phone down next to it without giving it much thought. She turned the hall light on.
  "There, there, sweetheart. Everything's going to be okay now; you're safe. Sit in the living room just through there, and I'll ring the police and explain what happened," Kathy said, not knowing what else to do in the circumstances.
  The girl who stood at 4 foot 9 looked at her and said, "I'm so cold; may I have a warm drink, please?"
  She wanted to ring the police straight away, but the door was locked, and she didn't want the girl dying from hyperthermia.
  Kathy escorted the girl whose arms were freezing into the living room. "Do you like tea? I can make you a cup; it'll warm you up, sweetheart. By the way, where's your coat?"
  The girl peered up at her from where she sat. "After the man attacked my mother, he tried to grab me. I did the best I could to get away. I must've lost my coat then; everything else is a blur."
  Kathy felt so sorry for her, poor little girl. She laid a little blanket over the child, saying, "I'll just pop into the kitchen and make you a nice hot drink; I'll ring the police afterward. Is that okay, my love? Are you warm enough now?"
  For the first time since they met, the girl smiled at her. "I'm okay, thank you."
  "Okay." Kathy was pleased the girl was now safe from harm. "I need to boil the kettle; I'll be back as soon as I can with your drink."
  Kathy walked to the kitchen area. She put some water into the kettle. Pressed the button to turn it on. It'd take 3 minutes to boil. Kathy got a teabag out from the higher cupboard and put a spoonful of sugar into a cup. She'd check the girl quickly while waiting. The noise from the kettle was a bit disconcerting this time of night. Lack of sleep didn't help. Without disturbing the child, she popped her head through the doorway of the living room. To her dismay, the girl wasn't there.
  Maybe she was using the toilet in the hallway?
  Kathy proceeded to the hallway cautiously and with utter horror observed the child at the entrance, unlocking it. The girl took a step back, and the door was opened by someone from outside. Her heart raced. She felt sick to the stomach. That's how the killer had entered the victim's homes, by using a child, but who was the girl to the killer? A man wearing a hoodie entered. His face couldn't be seen. He bent down to the girl and whispered in her right ear. She left the house, disappearing from view. He closed the door quietly, locking it. The brute put the key down on the shelf and made his way into the living room silently.
  Kathy was in turmoil. What should she do? 
  She needed to escape now. In the kitchen was a backdoor that led to the garden, and if she walked around the house and opened the gate, Kathy could make it to the road in front, then phone for help. She then remembered with panic she'd put the phone down next to the keys. Scared for her life, Kathy decided to get out of the house without her phone, as it wasn't a risk worth taking. She crept back to the kitchen where the key to open the backdoor was hung on the wall beside it. Kathy unhooked it, trying not to make a sound. Carefully she stuck the key in and turned it. With horror, a click was heard; Kathy looked behind her to see if he suspected anything. No one was there. With bated breath, she turned the handle, and the door opened. She proceeded into the darkness of the back garden. Using her hands, she felt her way around the walls to the gate. At the gate, she moved the latch up slowly. She pushed it open with a creak. Kathy needed to keep her wits about her as he could appear at any second. She proceeded down the narrow pathway, only looking back once towards the house; the front door was closed, and the curtains to the living room were drawn. At the road, Kathy stopped, taking a second to compose herself. 
  When she gets to Mrs. Jameson's, what would she say? 
  She ran across the road and headed to her house. The light in the window was still on, which meant she was up. Kathy proceeded down the path to the entrance and then knocked twice. There was no answer. Desperately, she tried the handle, and with surprise, the door opened. Why wasn't it locked, especially with what was going on at the moment? Once she'd entered, she closed the door, then made her way cautiously down the hallway calling the old woman's name as she didn't want to give her a heart attack. At the doorway to the living room, Kathy looked in, and what she saw next horrified her. She screamed.
Mrs. Jameson was sitting in the chair. Her head had been smashed in by something heavy. Blood was everywhere. To Kathy's knowledge, the killer was still in her house. She tried the landline, and it wasn't working. Kathy looked for a mobile phone; maybe the elderly woman didn't own one. The best thing to do in the circumstance was to leave the house and try the neighbour's doors until she got an answer. She'd have to be careful, though, as the man must have realised by now that something was up. She left the room still in shock. Poor Mrs. Jameson, she was such a lovely lady. At the entrance Kathy opened the door a little, peering out at the street ahead. Suddenly, with sheer horror, she observed the man appearing from her house, making his way down the pathway to the road. From behind a parked car, the girl appeared, joining him. She whispered something in his ear, then pointed at Mrs. Jameson's house. Total panic took over. There was no way of contacting the police. The man crossed the road in a hurry. Kathy closed the door; there was no key anywhere to lock it. She needed something to defend herself with. Kathy ran to the end of the hallway into the kitchen, turning the ceiling light on. She didn't have long. She checked the drawers under the sink; it was full of cleaning equipment. Then Kathy saw a rolling pin sitting on a shelf near the higher cupboards. She grabbed it, turning the light off. Now she stood in complete darkness, waiting for the killer to appear. Kathy heard the front door open and close again as the brute entered the place. She stayed where she was. He was heard walking up the hallway. With every second the man was getting closer. With the sturdy rolling pin in her right hand, she was ready. He came into the room, only a short distance from her. It was now or never. Kathy whacked him around the skull. He fell to the floor. She hit him three more times until there was a pool of blood at her feet. She proceeded down the hallway in a daze, opened the door, and then made her way out onto the street. A short distance away was the child. The moment the girl noticed the blood on Kathy's clothes, tears streamed from her eyes, and she was shouting something. The child was inconsolable. Lights appeared in windows from all around. Kathy dropped the rolling pin to the concrete below, then headed to her house to ring the police.

The End.
  

  

 

 

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