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SCARY STORY: 'The Blind Banshee' says, 'What lovely eyes...'
Here is one of the winners of the 2013 Scary Story Contest organized by Coquitlam and Port Moody public libraries and sponsored by The Tri-City News.
1ST PLACE, 15-18 YEARS
The Blind Banshee
By Mark Elliott, 17, Coquitlam
I wake up, hands tied and mouth gagged. I lie slumped in a foreign room with paint-peeled walls and a dreggy window that lets in twisted moonlight. My legs feel chafed, but for some reason they’re free. I should run, get away! But I don’t dare move. I’m not alone.
She emerges from the doorway. I squint through cracked eyelids and see a velvet dress and skin pale like maggots. Dark, greasy hair grasps hungrily at the floor. I can’t see her face. She lumbers towards me, each movement a forced jolt. Suddenly her head snaps towards me. I shut my eyes for real now, so tight that it hurts, but I can still sense her unnerving stare: still hear her approach over the raspy floorboards. Creak. Creak. She’s close. Creak. Creak. She’s here.
Thud! She collapses onto her knees. I break into a cold sweat. She’s looming over me. My skin crawls. A hand caresses my cheek and brushes gingerly over my eyelids. I want to scream, but... Drip. Something wet and hot falls on my face. Drip. There it is again. Drip. I can’t help my need to see. Slowly, I force my lids open, then stare in horror. Staring right back are two fathomless black and bleeding pits. She doesn’t have any eyes. Drip.
I scream and rear my legs up, kick her in the chest. She falls in an awkward heap and shrieks an unholy wail. I get up and run out the doorway into a hall darker than night. “Which way do I go?” I panic. “Which way!?”
An angry hissing behind me hastens my decision: left. I come to a rickety stairway, and the front entrance: freedom. I sprint down the steps like a madman, not stopping until I slam into the door. I fumble with the knob, twisting and turning, but it won’t work. I’m near to tears. I’m so close. So-
“RAAAAAH!!” The primal blare comes from behind me. I turn to see her at the top of the stairs. Her shoulders huff up and down in angry cadence. It suddenly dawns on me that she’s blind, yet still following me.
Then I notice an open door across from me. I glance once more at her, then dash towards the apparent exit. She screams like a banshee and flies down the stairs to give chase. I don’t look back again.
I fly blindly into a sepulchral gloom. “What now?” I think. Then suddenly I have my answer. Lights flicker on to reveal a small room with no exit. I’m trapped. And she’s here. Slowly she enters, locking the door behind her with finality. She smiles victorious. This close, I now notice her nails are bitten, long, and very sharp. For the first time, she speaks to me instead of screaming. Her voice is hoarse, and chilling. “What lovely eyes you must have,” she croons. Her fingers reach level with my gaze. “I wonder if they’d let me see…” Then, they plunge forward.