Wynter Hills: A Short Story

Wynter Hills. A boy still in his teenage years. Black side swiped hair and mesmerising blue eyes. A tall fragile body and clear pale skin. His all black converse padded through the puddles in the dark, empty alleyway. Tap. Tap. Tap. He thought he heard the faint clicking of heels. Maybe not. Tap. Tap. Tap. He was now sure he heard it. Whatever it was, it was closer, for this time it was louder than the first. Scared and shaken, he picked up his pace until he was running. Before he knew it he was at his house. All the lights were out and he could have swore he saw something move in his bedroom window. He mildly shook his head and removed his key from his hoodie pocket. Steadily, he inserted the key and twisted it to his right, it creaked open and after stepping inside, he removed his key and shut the door. A little bell rang out. Wynter tensed as he slowly lowered his gaze downwards. Dropping his shoulders and sighing of relief, he realised it was April. A small ginger tabby cat that his family had adopted a couple of weeks …show more content…
Black and Blood Red petals were scattered behind him. Then he saw two small girls dressed in Victorian-like clothing and their faces looked plastic and emotionless, yet they were having a conversation between themselves. “They say eyes are the window to the soul, so we just need to look into his soul?” A girl with brown curly locks whispered. “Yes. But what if he has no soul.” The blonde whispered back. They both shrugged in synchronisation and turned to look at Wynter. “Okay. I just have a couple of things to say. 1. Why are you in my room? 2. Why is there such a mess in my room? 3. Why are you talking about souls?” He almost yelled the points out but still tried to keep calm. “ Well...” The two girls said in synchronisation. Their once emotionless faces now had an evil grin, spreading from ear to