Dont C lo se Your Eyes Chapter 1; Part 4. For just a moment Tamara

Dont    C lo se   Your  Eyes Chapter 1; Part 4.

For just a moment Tamara had the impulse to forge ahead and take a look at the decrepit house. Then she glanced up. Dark clouds billowed. The summer storm was blowing in faster than she'd expected. She had no time for exploring now. She'd left several of her windows up and her new car in the driveway under a tree instead of in the garage.
Tamara turned and took several hurried steps down Hyacinth Lane. Tree limbs swayed and creaked. A silvery shaft of lighting ripped the gray sky. Tamara's ponytail blew wildly in the wind and a piece of dirt flew right into her eye. She stopped, rubbing at it gently. Damn. It had lodged under a contact lens.
A tear ran down her cheek. Lord, it hurt. She shut her and took a few more hurried steps. A scrabbling sound pulled her up short. She jerked her head to the right. What on earth was that? It sounded as if it were rushing at her.
"Happy Face?" She called. "Happy, is that you?"
The rushing sound stopped. Now there was silence, but a sinister silence. Something was watching her. She could feel the gaze running up and down her body. Her hands turned icy. She took a deep breath. Dont be silly, Tamars, she told herself sternly. What would be watching you? A chipmunk? A squirrel. Still, a dark wing of fear fluttered inside her.
"Happy Face?" she called again, hopefully, uncertainly.
But it wasnt the dog. Suddenly footsteps pounded through the underbrush, snapping vines, then smacking against the bare dirt. Tamara whirled blindly, not sure which direction to run. It didnt matter. In a flash an arm shot out from a slick, dark mass. Some kind of plastic coat. Tamara yelped in fear as the arm clenched around her neck and yanked backward. She dropped the violets she'd picked earlier. Her heels dragged the ground. She clawed uselessly at the sinewy arm locked directly under her chin. Her neck felt as if it were going to snap. Her eyes bulged in fear and shock as she gasped for air. "Wha--?"
A long steel razor with a bone handle flicked open. In one cold, frozen moment Tamara saw the blade glint in a flash of lighting before it slashed viciously across her throat and around her neck, cutting the vocal cords, severing the carotid artery. Blood spurted straight out, then cascaded down, drenching the sleeve of her white sweater.
"Their throat is an open tomb," a voice whispered caressingly in her ear as Tamara's slender body jerked grotesquely in its death throes.
The arm released Tamara. She fell in a heap, still twitching, her eyes wide, her blood soaking the dirt. The figure kneeled beside her and tucked a note into the fold of her sweater. Then it stood, bowed in a grotesque imitation of servitude, and wafted silently back into the dark, swaying forest.
Rain had begun to fall when the dog returned five minutes later. It loped toward Tamara, then abruptly stopped, dropping the stick. It whimpered unhappily. Finally it warily approached the body of the women who had greeted it so joyously earlier. When it smelled blood, the hair on its back stood up and it crouched, half-crawling to Tamara. It stared at her with warm amber eyes, the smiling gone from its face. Gently, almost reverently, it lay down and stretched its sleek neck across the gasping slash in hers, protecting her from further harm. As rain poured, the dog howled mournfully into the lonley night.




I told you it would get better(:
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