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The Pursuer

By , Covington, LA
People never believe what happens in the horror movies could happen in real life. I used to be one of those people. My life was in no way out of the ordinary. I had a great childhood, great family, great everything. High school had been a lot of fun, but now it was my third year in college. I was ready to move out, to live on my own. So that's exactly what I did.
One day while driving to the usual coffee shop, I saw this small path off the side of the highway. Curious, I followed it. It ended up leading to a very old looking house. It was about 3 miles from school. It was very small and not very "modern", but good enough for what I wanted. Also, very cheap. There wasn't that much to fix up, but whatever there was, my dad helped me out with. Once it was complete, I loved it.

Things started out great. I had absolutely no problems with the home. Every now and then, little critters would get inside, but that was no big deal. My parents would call up to check on me, and every night I would reassure them that I was fine. It was only natural for them to be worried, I was their only child, their only girl. For years we had all felt safe in the same home. Now I was on my own. Far away from them.

After about 3 months of living in the house, things started getting a little strange. Late at night while laying in bed, I would hear breathing. Like a man breathing. It would terrify me. I would hurry up and turn the lights on, but there was no one there. Anywhere. Then, during the day, I'd feel eyes on me. I could just feel a presence. Or that someone was watching me. It got really bad. To the point where I did not even want to live there anymore.

For some strange reason, I wanted to learn the history of the house. Something told me that if I knew its past, things would maybe start to make sense. I had already knew that the house was built back in 1973. But I did not expect what I read next.

The house was built in 1973 for two young, college-age girls. Their names were Rebecca and Kristie. They were apparently good friends who had decided to just build a house so they could live together while going to school. The girls lived in the house until 1975, and that's when I read the shock of my life. On November 3, 1975, while the two girls were home, they were brutally murdered by an anonymous man. Once I read more into it, I learned that the girls had been reporting having strange occurrences in the house, as if someone was watching them. Apparently, they believed someone had been stalking them.

The worst part, they never found the killer. They searched for years but they could never find evidence of this man.

My heart sank. I was living in a house where two girls my age were violently murdered. And I have been experiencing some of the things they experienced right before they were killed. Why had no one told me this before? Now I was stuck. And terrified.

I thought of calling my parents and letting them know everything I found out, but I knew they would flip out and probably never let me live on my own ever again, or at least for a very long time. So I decided to handle the problem myself. Obviously, I had to move out. The feeling that I was being watched became greater and more strange things had started to happen, such as random phone calls and banging on my door to see no one there. I had to get out before it was too late.

It was a Thursday night. I was planning on leaving to go stay with my best friend at her place for a while, till I can safely move out. I had told her to come over that night so she could help me pack some things I needed. That was a huge mistake. I figured, surprisingly, nothing unusual had happened the past couple of nights, so I thought we should be safe. Plus we would only be there for an hour or two anyways then we would leave.

She came over, and things were going great. I was packing my bags, practically almost finished. I was in my bedroom finishing up packing my t-shirts, when the lights started flickering. And so, it began.

I heard my best friend, Heather, scream from the kitchen.
"It's alright Heather! Just a little light problem!"
"No Jane, I saw someone!"
"What? What do you mean you saw someone?"
"I mean I saw someone! Run past that front window by the door!"

I walked over, scared of course, to look out the window. Nothing, as usual.
"Jane I promise there was a man there!"
"I believe you."

As I was walking away back towards the bedroom, the lights went completely out. And did not come back on. Heather screamed again, this time I could hear more fear in her scream.
"Jane what the heck is going on? It's the guy! That guy is harassing us!"
"I can't believe this is happening."

I hadn't told Heather everything about the house and so, unfortunately, I had to tell her then.
"Oh my god, does this mean we are gonna die?!"
"No! No of course not! There's no way this could be the same guy!"

I was so naive. Not long after those words had came out of my mouth, we heard bangs at the door. It sounded like someone banging on the door with their hands. Then the sounds got louder and my heart dropped. This guy was trying to kick down the door.

Heather and I were screaming and crying. I had never imagined this could happen to me. This is where I would die, my parents would find me just like those girls parents found them. The thought made me scream louder.
"Please! Please stop!" I cried.

At this point, the hinges on the door were slowly coming off and the door kept slightly opening more and more. This was it, this man was going to kill me and my best friend. How could I do this to Heather? To myself? How could I be so stupid?

While all these thoughts were going through my head, the door was almost off. I had to do something. In that split second, I decided that I was not gonna die. My best friend and I were going to survive.

The door was down. A huge shadow just stood there, holding something very sharp looking in his hand. Out of pure fear I could not move. Heather ran trying to take me with her, but I just couldn't go. She pulled and pulled and pleaded with me, but I was like a statute. Finally, Heather ran out the back, terrified. And all during this time, he stood there. Staring at me. I couldn't see his face, but he could easily kill me. Then it hit me. I had to run. Run as fast as I could.

I turned and ran where Heather had just gone. As I ran, I could hear the sound of footsteps chasing right behind me. At one point, he grabbed my leg, but luckily I kicked before he could do anything. I ran out the back towards the main highway. I didn't know if he was still behind me or not, my adrenaline completely took over. I got to the highway and stopped. He was gone. But where was Heather? I figured a car had stopped to help her.

Eventually, I got saved and made it back to the police station with both my teary eyed parents waiting for me. The look on relief on their faces made me burst into tears. I was alive. Miraculously. I had never been so happy to hug my parents.

So, here I am now, telling the world my story. Heather did not make it out. After police arrived on the scene, they had figured that when she ran to the back, she just ran into my bedroom under my bed, where the killer found her. She did not know about the back door leading towards the highway. It took me years to struggle with the fact that she was not here with me, and that it was my fault. But now, after a long time of therapy, I am happy with the fact that she is in heaven and that I will never forget her.

As for the house, I had it bulldozed. It was too dangerous for anyone to live there. Plus, it stood as a sad and scary reminder of all those murders. Including that of my best friend. I am finished school and just recently got married and moved out of state. I always try to forget that night but I never will, it will haunt me forever. As for the killer? No evidence was ever found. And neither was he.


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