"Clara let me help you."
The words had called to me, in a voice that was unfamiliar and chilling. Then I was back to reality, back in control. I could feel my heartbeat in my ear like a distant drum. My hands were cold and clammy, this was no dream, or overactive imagination.
WTF! I needed to get out of here as quickly as possible, I didn't even gather up my stuff I just ran. I suddenly became aware of the eerie ness of my surroundings, the silence, absent of even a night owl, the headstones, that cast out shadows like dark gargoyles over the ground. I'd left my torch behind, and this place felt like the scariest place on earth.
I had no idea where the gate was, or even if I was running in the right direction, all I knew was I had to keep moving, although I couldn't see anyone, I knew I was being followed and the Moon offered me very little assistance.
I tripped over something, landing at the entrance of a mausoleum, had it not been for the name engraved above its entrance, I would've kept running. But curiosity and an element of surprise, got the better of me. WHITLOCK was engraved in large ornate writing, a coincidence? Maybe, but not the family crest, that was carved into the weathered Portland Stone, I'd seen that crest before, I knew it well because it belonged to my family.
My mind was snapped back to my current situation, by the sound of footsteps getting closer, thankfully the clouds had moved, the moon highlighted my path towards the large iron gates. I ran and clambering over it fumbled in my pocket, thankfully the car keys were there. switching on the engine I screeched out of the car park.
"Clara, let me help you."
There was that chilling voice again, but where was it coming from? Looking in the rear view mirror, my blood ran cold.
*Any suggestions/criticisms welcome x
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