Epic Story
Epic Story
I’d like to call upon the fiction gods to empower this story to be extravagant.
The cold storm carried on with its overwhelming booms from the thunder shaking the house from the outside. Terrified, the blond haired Juliet sat in the corner of her darkened closet attempting to go unnoticed by the intruder stalking around her house. She sat there hugging her legs, praying that he wouldn’t hear her soft whimpers of fear. She listened quietly to the footsteps walking around her once safe home. They began to come closer, she could feel her heartbeat pick up, and he began to slowly approach her inadequate closet hiding spot. Her heart began to beat ferociously. Staring up at the door handle, she knew all of her efforts to escape this ordeal unharmed had been abandoned.
The handle twisted, she looked for something, anything to protect herself with, and she came up empty handed. Sheepishly, she attempted to cover herself further with her father’s overcoat. The door began to open, she huddled as close to the corner as she could, wishing she could just sink through the walls to safety. She was in tears now, trying her hardest to muffle them, she thrust the jacket into her quivering mouth. Then, with just enough of an opening to see the intruder’s cold murderous eye; it stopped with a loud crash coming from the kitchen. Juliet froze, in anticipation of what was to come next. The intruder left her closet to investigate. Juliet knew this would be her one and only chance to escape; she quietly snuck out of the closet and began to run towards the backdoor. Halfway there she heard the deafening sound of a bullet leaving the barrel of the intruder’s gun. Looking around she caught a glimpse of her mother’s frail body crumple to the ground through the reflection of a mirror. In agony, she pushed herself to go on towards the freedom of the door. She grasped the handle and swung it open. Running out into the rabid storm, she scanned the yard for somewhere safe,
I’d like to call upon the fiction gods to empower this story to be extravagant.
The cold storm carried on with its overwhelming booms from the thunder shaking the house from the outside. Terrified, the blond haired Juliet sat in the corner of her darkened closet attempting to go unnoticed by the intruder stalking around her house. She sat there hugging her legs, praying that he wouldn’t hear her soft whimpers of fear. She listened quietly to the footsteps walking around her once safe home. They began to come closer, she could feel her heartbeat pick up, and he began to slowly approach her inadequate closet hiding spot. Her heart began to beat ferociously. Staring up at the door handle, she knew all of her efforts to escape this ordeal unharmed had been abandoned.
The handle twisted, she looked for something, anything to protect herself with, and she came up empty handed. Sheepishly, she attempted to cover herself further with her father’s overcoat. The door began to open, she huddled as close to the corner as she could, wishing she could just sink through the walls to safety. She was in tears now, trying her hardest to muffle them, she thrust the jacket into her quivering mouth. Then, with just enough of an opening to see the intruder’s cold murderous eye; it stopped with a loud crash coming from the kitchen. Juliet froze, in anticipation of what was to come next. The intruder left her closet to investigate. Juliet knew this would be her one and only chance to escape; she quietly snuck out of the closet and began to run towards the backdoor. Halfway there she heard the deafening sound of a bullet leaving the barrel of the intruder’s gun. Looking around she caught a glimpse of her mother’s frail body crumple to the ground through the reflection of a mirror. In agony, she pushed herself to go on towards the freedom of the door. She grasped the handle and swung it open. Running out into the rabid storm, she scanned the yard for somewhere safe,