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Description
   She walked along the dark hallway of the old mansion; supposedly, it was haunted.  But Dianne didn't believe in such silly superstitions.  She had come here to prove that to those false friends of hers who were waiting down the block; what they approximated was a safe distance.  And so she walked on…
   Dianne could just make out a door as it appeared in the shadows at the end of the hall. She reached out her hand (surprisingly shaky) and took hold of the doorknob firmly. Then she heard something: a woman’s voice singing a soft, chilling melody.  Dianne froze, her fingers clenched around the doorknob.  No other person had come with her; she was alone in the piercing darkness.  Her heart skipped a beat and her breathing accelerated; sweat began to trickle from her pores.  She could smell her own fear reeking from her armpits.  Was this some sort of trick?  Suddenly, she heard something behind her........Shhh, thump!....Shhh, thump! The sound slowly coming toward her reminded her of someone dragging a parcel along the ground; one too heavy to lift, like a large bag of dog food.  But something was different about it.  There was a sloppy sort of sloshing accompanied with it.
   Dianne's body went frigid.  She grimaced as the noise got louder, closer.  Her body shook uncontrollably, like Death himself was closing in on her soul.  Then she thought someone must be playing a prank on her.  Her “friends” knew she was here; they could easily be doing this to scare her.  So, convinced of tomfoolery, Dianne squared her shoulders and forced herself into a shell of bravery (however cracked it may be).  She jerked around to face her fears.  But what she saw was grotesquely hideous.
   It was a horribly deformed man. He had a bald head with several festering gashes that gushed blood with every movement of his body.  His nose was crooked and swollen, colored hues of purple, black, and blue.  On his arms were red bumps, some cracked and bleeding, while others just oozed a yellow-tinged puss; his right arm looked like it had been snapped at the elbow, yet he was still using it to drag his way toward Dianne.  His legs were severed jaggedly: one below the knee, the other halfway up his thigh; strands of muscle and veins hung out of them, leaving a snail trail of dark blood across the old wooden floor.  He was dirty and smelled more foul than anything she could imagine.  Even more foul than a filthy dumpster on a hot summer day after it’s been baking under the sun.
   He grabbed hold of her leg with a bloody hand.  Dianne looked down at the three fingers that gripped her, the cracked bones of the missing ones jabbing her calve.  Her horror had overcome her.  In her panic, she turned to run (forgetting the man’s grip on her leg) but fell flat on her face.  He pulled himself up the length of her body as she thrashed and screamed at the top of her lungs, struggling and fighting with every inch of her strength.  All to no avail, though, as his mouth came down on her arm and bit ferociously.  A retched, scorching, wail ripped itself from Dianne’s throat and hot tears blurred her vision as they gushed down her cheeks.  Her throat was raw and she sobbed and shook, trembled and jerked this way and that way as bite after horrid bite, the foul creature ripped the flesh from her bones.  His hands gripped her and his heavy, bloody, mass pinned her where she lay.  Over and over, she screamed for help, for someone to wake her from what must be a nightmare.  But no one came, no one woke her, and the pain grew sharper with each new bite.  She was covered in her own blood, quivering with shock, when darkness descended upon her and she could no longer feel the tremendous pain.

                                                 ~~~~~~

   Down the street, under a flickering street lamp in autumn’s chill, Dianne’s friends stood in silence as they waited for her to return.  Some fidgeted nervously, some hugged themselves for warmth as the falling leaves danced about them; but none ever noticed the faint scream blow past them with the brisk wind, dying away ever so slowly, echoing to the night sky above…

Description
   She walked along the dark hallway of the old mansion; supposedly, it was haunted.  But Dianne didn't believe in such silly superstitions.  She had come here to prove that to those false friends of hers who were waiting down the block; what they approximated was a safe distance.  And so she walked on…
   Dianne could just make out a door as it appeared in the shadows at the end of the hall. She reached out her hand (surprisingly shaky) and took hold of the doorknob firmly. Then she heard something: a woman’s voice singing a soft, chilling melody.  Dianne froze, her fingers clenched around the doorknob.  No other person had come with her; she was alone in the piercing darkness.  Her heart skipped a beat and her breathing accelerated; sweat began to trickle from her pores.  She could smell her own fear reeking from her armpits.  Was this some sort of trick?  Suddenly, she heard something behind her........Shhh, thump!....Shhh, thump! The sound slowly coming toward her reminded her of someone dragging a parcel along the ground; one too heavy to lift, like a large bag of dog food.  But something was different about it.  There was a sloppy sort of sloshing accompanied with it.
   Dianne's body went frigid.  She grimaced as the noise got louder, closer.  Her body shook uncontrollably, like Death himself was closing in on her soul.  Then she thought someone must be playing a prank on her.  Her “friends” knew she was here; they could easily be doing this to scare her.  So, convinced of tomfoolery, Dianne squared her shoulders and forced herself into a shell of bravery (however cracked it may be).  She jerked around to face her fears.  But what she saw was grotesquely hideous.
   It was a horribly deformed man. He had a bald head with several festering gashes that gushed blood with every movement of his body.  His nose was crooked and swollen, colored hues of purple, black, and blue.  On his arms were red bumps, some cracked and bleeding, while others just oozed a yellow-tinged puss; his right arm looked like it had been snapped at the elbow, yet he was still using it to drag his way toward Dianne.  His legs were severed jaggedly: one below the knee, the other halfway up his thigh; strands of muscle and veins hung out of them, leaving a snail trail of dark blood across the old wooden floor.  He was dirty and smelled more foul than anything she could imagine.  Even more foul than a filthy dumpster on a hot summer day after it’s been baking under the sun.
   He grabbed hold of her leg with a bloody hand.  Dianne looked down at the three fingers that gripped her, the cracked bones of the missing ones jabbing her calve.  Her horror had overcome her.  In her panic, she turned to run (forgetting the man’s grip on her leg) but fell flat on her face.  He pulled himself up the length of her body as she thrashed and screamed at the top of her lungs, struggling and fighting with every inch of her strength.  All to no avail, though, as his mouth came down on her arm and bit ferociously.  A retched, scorching, wail ripped itself from Dianne’s throat and hot tears blurred her vision as they gushed down her cheeks.  Her throat was raw and she sobbed and shook, trembled and jerked this way and that way as bite after horrid bite, the foul creature ripped the flesh from her bones.  His hands gripped her and his heavy, bloody, mass pinned her where she lay.  Over and over, she screamed for help, for someone to wake her from what must be a nightmare.  But no one came, no one woke her, and the pain grew sharper with each new bite.  She was covered in her own blood, quivering with shock, when darkness descended upon her and she could no longer feel the tremendous pain.

                                                 ~~~~~~

   Down the street, under a flickering street lamp in autumn’s chill, Dianne’s friends stood in silence as they waited for her to return.  Some fidgeted nervously, some hugged themselves for warmth as the falling leaves danced about them; but none ever noticed the faint scream blow past them with the brisk wind, dying away ever so slowly, echoing to the night sky above…