Chatterbox: Inkwell

Round robin!

Sam's feet felt heavier and heavier as they pounded against the ground. She wished she could just stop and take a rest, but that wasn't going to happen, she might lose her life if she did. A little voice in her head was calling, stop, stop, you have to stop. Atleast climb a tree or something, goblins hate tree's. but there were no tree's around.

It was holloween night and she was running away from a goblin. Her sister had dared her to knock on the door of the haunted house on their street, and look were it got her, running down an alley with a goblin at her heels. STOP. And thats what she did, she stopped, she had almost run into a dead end in the alley.

"Got ya, you little brat." the goblin grabbed the back of her neck and positioned her head so she could see his cold, black beady eyes. The goblin's breath smelled like rotten fish. It burned up her nose and into her lungs, then everything went black.