The darkness set in quickly. And with it came the fog.
Elena could see her panicky breaths frosting in front of her eyes, like little clouds of despair. She drew back the long hair around her right ear; it was a nervous tick of hers. Her normally pale face was exploring uncharted avenues of sheer whiteness. Her blue eyes darted erratically.
The house creaked. And given the atmosphere, it just had to creak ominously. She would have liked to see shadows; shadows meant that there was enough light somewhere for them to be cast. And if they moved too quickly, she would know where it was…
Another sound. Not quite footsteps, but something was approaching. Elena crouched inside the empty pantry cupboard, hoping that an opening would present itself. If she ran out of the house, she just might have a chance.
She left the cupboard door slightly open, hoping that even in the murky darkness, she might be able to see something. Anything.
Maybe her eyes were finally adjusting, but the darkness was starting to assume several slightly different shades of black. One of which eerily groaned as it shuffled through the kitchen.
Muffling a whimper that nearly escaped her lips, Elena retreated further into the already cramped cupboard. The shuffling outside continued for an agonizingly long time. When it finally faded away, she risked another look outside.
It looked like it was gone. Deciding it was worth the risk, Elena gently opened the door, and crawled towards the back door of the kitchen. The door knob had a bad habit of jamming though, and usually at the worst of moments. And this moment right now was certainly down there.
She tried it with a trembling hand. And, somehow, it opened without even a rattle.
She thought she heard something shift behind her, but the thought flew away into the foggy air as she herself sprinted out of the house. The woods were alive in a very wrong way, but she didn’t care for now. Nothing out there could be as terrible as the… thing inside the house.
Her heart was pounding a drumbeat on her ribs, her arms swung frantically by her side, and – her ankle chose a terrible time to entangle itself with a stray root.
“Arrrgh!”
Elena collapsed to the ground in a clumsy heap, cursing all the way down. And then…
“CUT!”
*
“How bad is it?” asked Robbie with some concern. Elena wasn’t entirely sure if the concern was for her well-being or for the film he was directing.
“It’s a bad sprain. Might be several hours before she can put weight on it again,” said Donovan the medic, who was spending an uncomfortably long time feeling around Elena’s leg.
“Aw, nuts. I was looking forward to filming the confrontation scene,” said Monty with a frown. Elena frowned with him; he was one of the few genuine people involved in the production, and she too had been looking forward to that scene.
“At least we got some good footage from the kitchen scene. That was some grade-A heavy breathing there, Elena. We won’t have to retake that scene again, I think,” said Robbie, who was apparently trying to raise the spirits of the little group huddled around Elena. She didn’t feel like telling him that it wasn’t working.
“Well, since I’m apparently done for tonight, can I head back to my trailer?” asked Elena politely, “I could really use a bath after hiding inside that stinky cupboard for so long.”
“It was only fifteen minutes at most, Elena,” said Monty with a smirk, “Here, let me help you get to the trailer.”
Elena nodded with a smile.
“I’ll go look at the footage with Mick, he’d better not have screwed up that take!” said Robbie, more to himself than to anyone in particular.
*
When she was finally alone again inside the trailer, Elena breathed a sigh of relief. And then immediately winced as a tinge of pain surged through her ankle. She sighed again; she hadn’t even been putting weight on it just then.
She carefully made her way to the trailer’s excuse for a bathroom. But, she thought to herself, at least it had one. She flashed back to the times when she was still an up-and-coming actress and had to share the trailers with others back then. And not always with only women either.
She passed by a window, and paused briefly to take a look outside. Filming on location was nice, but not when it was the norm, she thought. And a large part of this production had been filmed in and around the quaint little house in the woods they had found abandoned here. The woods themselves were a pleasant backdrop, although she currently couldn’t see too much of them in the night.
She wondered whether to bother fiddling with the hot water knob, then decided against it. She wanted that bath fast.
“Ah!”
The cold water stung for a moment. But then she let it run on her skin for a little longer, and the goose-bumps stopped prickling.
If it had been her bathroom back home, she would have put on some music. She tried humming to herself, but it didn’t quite have the same effect.
It was around this time that the lights in the trailer started flickering. Elena rolled her eyes; she was used to unreliable power supplies out in the wilderness, but did it have to happen while she was having a bath?
As though in response, the lights went out completely.
When she stopped humming, Elena was made painfully aware of how quiet everything suddenly was. She was nearly too afraid to call out. And when she finally did, nobody responded. The goosebumps returned, and she shivered.
The darkness set in quickly. And with it came the fog.
Elena could see her panicky breaths frosting in front of her eyes, like little clouds of despair. She drew back the long hair around her right ear; it was a nervous tick of hers. Her normally pale face was exploring uncharted avenues of sheer whiteness. Her blue eyes darted erratically.
The house creaked. And given the atmosphere, it just had to creak ominously. She would have liked to see shadows; shadows meant that there was enough light somewhere for them to be cast. And if they moved too quickly, she would know where it was…
Another sound. Not quite footsteps, but something was approaching. Elena crouched inside the empty pantry cupboard, hoping that an opening would present itself. If she ran out of the house, she just might have a chance.
She left the cupboard door slightly open, hoping that even in the murky darkness, she might be able to see something. Anything.
Maybe her eyes were finally adjusting, but the darkness was starting to assume several slightly different shades of black. One of which eerily groaned as it shuffled through the kitchen.
Muffling a whimper that nearly escaped her lips, Elena retreated further into the already cramped cupboard. The shuffling outside continued for an agonizingly long time. When it finally faded away, she risked another look outside.
It looked like it was gone. Deciding it was worth the risk, Elena gently opened the door, and crawled towards the back door of the kitchen. The door knob had a bad habit of jamming though, and usually at the worst of moments. And this moment right now was certainly down there.
She tried it with a trembling hand. And, somehow, it opened without even a rattle.
She thought she heard something shift behind her, but the thought flew away into the foggy air as she herself sprinted out of the house. The woods were alive in a very wrong way, but she didn’t care for now. Nothing out there could be as terrible as the… thing inside the house.
Her heart was pounding a drumbeat on her ribs, her arms swung frantically by her side, and – her ankle chose a terrible time to entangle itself with a stray root.
“Arrrgh!”
Elena collapsed to the ground in a clumsy heap, cursing all the way down. And then…
“CUT!”
*
“How bad is it?” asked Robbie with some concern. Elena wasn’t entirely sure if the concern was for her well-being or for the film he was directing.
“It’s a bad sprain. Might be several hours before she can put weight on it again,” said Donovan the medic, who was spending an uncomfortably long time feeling around Elena’s leg.
“Aw, nuts. I was looking forward to filming the confrontation scene,” said Monty with a frown. Elena frowned with him; he was one of the few genuine people involved in the production, and she too had been looking forward to that scene.
“At least we got some good footage from the kitchen scene. That was some grade-A heavy breathing there, Elena. We won’t have to retake that scene again, I think,” said Robbie, who was apparently trying to raise the spirits of the little group huddled around Elena. She didn’t feel like telling him that it wasn’t working.
“Well, since I’m apparently done for tonight, can I head back to my trailer?” asked Elena politely, “I could really use a bath after hiding inside that stinky cupboard for so long.”
“It was only fifteen minutes at most, Elena,” said Monty with a smirk, “Here, let me help you get to the trailer.”
Elena nodded with a smile.
“I’ll go look at the footage with Mick, he’d better not have screwed up that take!” said Robbie, more to himself than to anyone in particular.
*
When she was finally alone again inside the trailer, Elena breathed a sigh of relief. And then immediately winced as a tinge of pain surged through her ankle. She sighed again; she hadn’t even been putting weight on it just then.
She carefully made her way to the trailer’s excuse for a bathroom. But, she thought to herself, at least it had one. She flashed back to the times when she was still an up-and-coming actress and had to share the trailers with others back then. And not always with only women either.
She passed by a window, and paused briefly to take a look outside. Filming on location was nice, but not when it was the norm, she thought. And a large part of this production had been filmed in and around the quaint little house in the woods they had found abandoned here. The woods themselves were a pleasant backdrop, although she currently couldn’t see too much of them in the night.
She wondered whether to bother fiddling with the hot water knob, then decided against it. She wanted that bath fast.
“Ah!”
The cold water stung for a moment. But then she let it run on her skin for a little longer, and the goose-bumps stopped prickling.
If it had been her bathroom back home, she would have put on some music. She tried humming to herself, but it didn’t quite have the same effect.
It was around this time that the lights in the trailer started flickering. Elena rolled her eyes; she was used to unreliable power supplies out in the wilderness, but did it have to happen while she was having a bath?
As though in response, the lights went out completely.
When she stopped humming, Elena was made painfully aware of how quiet everything suddenly was. She was nearly too afraid to call out. And when she finally did, nobody responded. The goosebumps returned, and she shivered.
The darkness set in quickly. And with it came the fog.
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