After her older brother died and her girlfriend broke up with her in the same month, Thea moved to a house in the middle of the woods.
She lived a good distance away from the nearest convenience store. A fact that her best friend, Marie, brought up during their phone call.
“But what if you get a craving for ramen at midnight?” Marie said in an exaggerated, cutesy voice.
Thea chuckled. “I’ll be fine. Really.”
“Hmph, but you better call me the moment you feel unsafe!”
“Promise. I gotta hang up now. Still need to unpack.”
“Call me back when you’re done?”
“I’m probably gonna pass out afterwards.”
“Okay then, I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you!”
Three months passed. On an early morning, Thea drank tea and continued her progress on a coloring book.
Then there was a knock on the door.
Thea dropped the cup she was holding. It spilled its contents over the edge of the pages and shattered on the floor.
“I have a letter for Thea.”
She froze. Marie would never send letters. At least, not physical ones. “What are we, from the Victorian Era?” she said once.
Before Thea could reply, the postman spoke.
“Sent by Grace.”
As in, her mother? But Thea cut off contact with her and never told her her current address. Nobody besides Marie knew where she lived.
After a few days, there was another knock on the door. A policeman heard Thea’s concerns about the postman and wanted to keep her safe. How did he know about the postman? Thea had never made a call to the police.
She looked through the peephole. The policeman’s uniform had hints of blood on it.
Thea never mentioned either the postman or the policeman during her regular phone calls with Marie. But nightmares became frequent, and Thea compulsively checked if her doors and windows were locked shut.
Tonight, there was no knock. But there was that familiar bubbly voice.
“Hey Thea, it’s me, Marie. Open up! It’s scary to wait outside like this, you know.”
Marie stood on the front porch. Thea couldn’t see her car anywhere. Also, her hair was too neat. A few weeks ago she tried to give herself a haircut, but ended up with unevenly chopped bangs.
“You don’t have to do this alone,” Marie said. Her mouth never moved.
Thea’s eyes burned with tears. She gripped the knife she’s been holding since she’d seen Marie through the peephole. Taking a deep breath, she put her hand on the doorknob.
“Thea?”
Thea opened the door slightly and waited. A hand far too big and elongated to belong to a human emerged. She slammed the door on it. The hand made a sound like branches snapping. The monster screamed, first in Marie’s voice, then her dead brother’s. Its fingers tried to squeeze through the gap. Thea cut them off. Smoke sprayed in place of blood. She coughed.
“Leave me the hell alone!” Thea cried.
The monster pushed the door open. Thea plunged the knife into its chest and stomach. Its scream changed to her mother’s. A mass of pitch black limbs erupted from the stab wounds like jets of water. Thea cut through them and sliced the monster’s neck. Its face of Marie contorted.
“Thea,” it said weakly.
Thea cut up its face. More smoke came out of the wounds.
Thea didn’t stop stabbing until the monster fell and stopped regenerating its limbs.
She slumped next to the door, let the knife clatter to the floor, and sobbed. Then she called Marie.
“Hey, can I stay over your place?”
“Finally! So you admit it gets pretty lonely there, huh?”
Thea smiled. “Just for a few days.”