Drenched

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She was completely soaked, the moisture seeping through her clothing and tingling her skin. Her clothing was ruined by the stains, Perhaps permanently. In retrospect, she should have exercised greater caution. 

Holding the scissors in her hands gave her a rush, and she yearned to make a swift, decisive attack without collateral damage. A wave of adrenaline, she thought, was to blame. As she looked around the kitchen, she saw the blood splatters glistening on the white cabinet and tiles. 

She should clean up before her mother returns, so she won't have to answer any questions she hasn't thought of. She grabbed a large, nearly empty plastic bag from the counter and read the words "Fake Blood" in that chilling typeface. 

Now she must figure out how to pull off her Halloween costume with only poster colours.

Drenched, Flash Fiction, Scary short, Story twist




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