Rising Action Story by Indigo Jackson

Matches make soft singes in the cataclysmic silence of a dim room. Smoke sneaks into each hidden crevice of each hidden corner.The long awaited, slow paced, deep, deep drag on his cheap cigarette. Red, glowing. Fear thumping in the veins, arteries, capelaries of each girl. They're sure to feel a thrill of the adrenal glands, pulsing, pulsing. Muscles tensing and trembling, convulsing. His freshly polished shoes click with the hardwood as they meet. The girls stumble back on their dirty hands and calloused knees. Cowardice is setting in. Even the few brave ones cringe as the footsteps cease and the deafening silence returns. Thunder cracks along with the screams. The bodies drop along with his cigarette butt. The stench of blood, sweat, smoke is overpowering. Let in the air. Let in the air. He goes to the window to let in the air.