She gawked through the open window, counting the minutes, waiting for her one-day-old husband to return, unaware of his vibrant plans for the night.
Rain began to pour outside, soaking the curtains as the thunder began to sing its brutal song.
The buried body in the garden which lay beneath the rose bush began to float upward as a lifeless hand obtruded from the ground.
She bawled a startled cry as her pallid hands froze on the window sill.
He galloped up the stairs after coming in through the back door, stealthily, so as to not alert her.
If she didn’t hear him, she could feel his cold and insentient presence hovering a few feet from her and that was the sign she needed to get her legs moving to run for her dear life. And the hunt began…
This week’s FSF prompt : Hunt
This post is a part of Five Sentence Fiction (Lillie McFerrin).