The Last One

Images of the other five pounded through her mind, excruciating pain excreted out of every pour of her body. She could still see all their faces, see the blood that drained out of their lifeless corpses as he slammed their heads in with a bat. Their eyes pleaded with mercy, to spare them even if it was just for another day; but not one of them lived with the exception of her.

Was she really meant to? Was she supposed to be slaughtered in that house? Was she already dead and merely a ghost that would meander the earth for all eternity, an arduous soul with the only reminiscence of the worst day of her life?

Then she saw the same hazel eyes she saw that night, the same eyes of the killer who murdered their killer.