Email: minxfic13 AT hotmail.com
Summary: A short Halloween tale.
Disclaimers: Fry isn't mine.
Fry hooked her legs up under her and settled back into the overstuffed couch, it was old but so comfy, almost like it was made to fit her body. Taking another handful of popcorn she pushed it into her mouth trying not to drop too much, she had vacuumed today and wasn't planning on doing it for at least another week. Squished popcorn going moldy between the cushions wasn't an inviting prospect.
She grabbed the TV remote and flipped the channel again. Why, oh why was it always 'get out the crappy movies' on Halloween night. Every single movie on tonight had a ghost, a ghoul or a badly made up werewolf lurking in the script. Typical. She'd done six months in cryo, floating around in the middle of fucking nowhere and when she gets back to Earth and has her first night to herself to veg out there was nothing on to watch.
With a snort Fry gave up, flipping off the TV and picked up her book from the end of the couch. Settling into the story she wiggled her toes at her tight calve muscles; her whole body had a wearisome ache. Cryo-sleep was one of the downsides of space travel, it took weeks for her muscles to retake their normal shape.
'Heather swooned in James' arms. He leaned down to press his lips against hers and Heather sighed. James was all she had ever....' A thump from the room above her brought her thoughts back to the present.
Fry looked up at the ceiling. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. If the damn cat was rooting around in her wardrobe again she was going to be pissed. She really ought to go look but really didn't want to get her butt off the couch.
She settled back to her book. She took one more mouthful of popcorn before deciding her thighs didn't need anymore, no matter what her taste buds told her. As she went to set the bowl on the floor, she caught the edge of the couch and popcorn spilled out across the floor.
She stared at the mess a moment and then sighed heavily. Putting her book down carefully so as not to lose her page, she struggled out of the comfy confines of the couch to go fetch a dustpan and brush. She walked tiredly into the kitchen feeling all of her twenty-eight years.
Now that she was up she had better check on that damn cat too, but would deal with the popcorn first. She reached the cupboard, which was situated next to the sink, and opened the door. As she reached for the dustpan she caught sight of movement from the corner of her eye. She jerked the door closed. Her body went cold. She stared out of the kitchen window which was just above the sink.
What the fuck?
Slowly moving across to the window she peered out, seeing nothing but her own reflection. It had looked like a person running past the window. She has the distinct impression of a tall man, but clearly there was nothing there. Chiding herself and feeling stupid she quickly dropped the blind over the darkness outside and returned to the cupboard and the popcorn explosion in the lounge.
Returning to the lounge she dropped to her knees and quickly swept up the popcorn. The sudden scream of a woman on the TV made her jump. Fry blinked and looked at the screen
Didn't I just turn that off??
Fry stared at the flickering image of a woman being bitten by a vampire. Her stomach turned over.
I did turn the TV off...I'm sure I did.
She dismissed the thought and carried on collecting up the popcorn, she bent to reach the last few pieces under the sofa. With her face pressed against the cold wooden floor she peered underneath and was met not by popcorn but two bright yellow eyes.
Fry screamed and leapt backwards landing on her backside, scattering the contents of the dustpan across the entire lounge floor. She shuffled backwards several feet until her back was pressed against the wall.
WHAT IS THAT?
Her eyes were fixed on the gap under the sofa. Her chest heaved and she started to shake. Another movement through the lounge window caught her attention. She turned to look but it was gone. She was sure it had been a person this time.
She looked back to the gap under the sofa and screamed again as thin fingers curled out grasping the edge. The hand was grey, bloodless and had very long fingernails. It flexed as it grasped the edge of the couch. Another hand joined the first and was followed by a bony arm. Then the lights went out.
From the incessant din of the woman screaming on the TV the room was suddenly silent. The only sound Fry's own harsh breathing. Stifling a sob, she tried to think clearly but couldn't. What was happening? What was that under the couch?
She forced herself to her feet pushing herself up the firm surface behind her. The room was so dark, not even a chink of light from the window. She didn't know whether to move or not. Was the owner of the fingers still there?
She stood trembling unsure of her next move.
Her head shot round in the direction of the kitchen.
Fry whimpered. Something was coming across the room.
Fry edged along the wall, feeling the smooth plaster under her fingers, her heart was pounding away against her ribs.
She'd reached the edge of the wall, and had to stop. The wall turned a corner but furniture propped against it stopped her advancing further. She had to step out into the room to move away from the approaching sound of the popcorn being crushed.
She stretched out a hand and groped around in the dark trying to reach anything. She could feel material...the armchair...it had to be the chair, which meant she was closer to the door than she thought.
No more delay. The sounds were getting too close. The pushed herself towards the chair and grasped the material in her hands. Too late she realised it wasn't a chair. Large hands gripped her wrists preventing her escape.
Looking up into silver pools the last thing she heard was, "Hello, Carolyn."