Painted Dolls

Four minutes in and I knew I had made a colossal mistake. The door creaked like a blaring alarm behind me as I snuck through it to the top of the stairs of the surprisingly humid basement. Tiptoeing down each stair in a silent hurry, I could hear him barrel through the front door of the cabin, singing my name with amusement as his sinister laugh echoed off the tainted walls. I had always scoffed at the term "Final Girl" but now, as I stand and gaze at the lifeless bodies that hung like toys from the ceiling around me, I realize I am one.