She squinted at the dark yellow leaves blowing in through the broken window, scattering to the corners of the room. She’d never had any friends and she had her translucent white skin and pink eyes to thank for that. Never attending school didn’t help her social status, either. Yet, on this night, she found herself huddled on the freezing floor of an abandoned hunting shack, surrounded by girls she’d passed near the woods. She startled when the one of them leaned forward, and spat, “Truth or Dare?!”

(Stories need only touch on this topic in some way to qualify.)  

She watched in horror as the man abruptly attacked her older sister with an axe. Her feet remained rooted while the stranger struck her sibling over and over again in the moonlight, spilling her life essence into the brown grass. When the man was done, he immediately began dragging the body away down a winding path.

At first, her uncooperative legs wouldn’t budge, but she eventually found the strength to follow the man deeper into the woods. One shaky, unfamiliar step after the other. A sharp wind blew through the cedars, sounding like desperate shrieks of warning. She ignored the sound completely, and continued trailing the man.

When he entered a lonely red-brick cabin, she waited in fear outside. The cabin soon lit up with a flickering orange glow. The man pushed his way out the front door again, still holding his murder weapon. She crouched low, hoping to go unnoticed. The man ran right past her, no doubt searching for more victims.

She warily approached the entrance to the cabin, and turned the doorknob. She crept inside, hoping to find that her sister was miraculously still alive. But, there was no sign of her beautiful sis, only peeling walls decorated with hunting knives and an antique bow. There were dancing flames in the fireplace. She lumbered across the room, and plopped down on the freezing floor, a cautious ten feet from the fire. The flickering glow illuminated her translucent white skin.

Suddenly, there was a cacophony of breaking glass as the only two windows in the cabin shattered. She cowered on the floor, terrified that the man had returned. But, what actually crawled through the windows was something more troubling and mysterious.

Teenaged girls.

The sophomores were dressed in black and the first one in froze when she saw the pale girl with rose-colored eyes crouched on the floor.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the red-head gasped. “We thought this cabin was abandoned.”

Three more students leapt down from the windows. They stopped short when they saw the odd girl.”

A fearless young woman with a raven mohawk stalked up to the pale girl, and studied her features. “Are you an albino?”

“She’s freaky looking,” whined the redhead. “I’m scared.”

Mohawk didn’t flinch. “Wasn’t that the whole point?”


“To be scared. We snuck in here to tell ghost stories. If you’re already quaking, then you’re getting your money’s worth.”

The pale girl squinted at the dark yellow leaves blowing in through the broken windows, scattering to the corners of the room. They seemed to be communicating with her, telling her that it was time to go. But, she’d never had the chance to speak to these girls before. They passed her every day on the way to school but they had never said one word to her.

“C’mon, play games with us,” Mohawk instructed, and the girls sat with her in a circle on the floor.

“It’s cold in here,” Red blurted. “Can you make the fire bigger?”

The pale girl glared at the fireplace, grimacing. “No.”

Mohawk told ghastly tales of witches, specters, and murdered lovers, while Red, Blonde Bangs and Disheveled Ponytail squirmed in fear. Then, they switched to Truth or Dare. When it was the pale girl’s turn, Mohawk reached into the pocket of her hoodie, and pulled out an old cigar. She lit the end of it.

“I dare you to smoke this.”

The pale girl flinched away from the smoldering tip. Then, she heard heavy footfalls outside.

“Truth,” she hissed instead.

Mohawk nodded.

“I don’t live here! I’m being held prisoner by an axe murderer who killed my sister less than an hour ago!”

Even Mohawk looked terrified.

“We have to run!” Red shouted.

“It’s too late,” the pale girl warned. “He’s back.”

The others girls could hear the man’s footsteps approaching the door now.

“You’re going to have to fight,” the pale girl said, pointing to the bow and arrows hanging on the wall.

“We don’t know how to use that,” Mohawk cried.

“I do,” said Red. “I took a class at summer camp. But, there’s no way that old thing will work.”

The pale girl smiled. “The bow is made of English yew so it will remain pliant for centuries.”

Red snatched the bow from the wall, and nocked a frayed arrow with trembling hands. The horrified girls watched as a grizzled man with an axe stalked inside. A round of screams covered the twang of a released bowstring. An arrow slithered through the stale air of the cabin, coming to rest in the man’s broad chest. The man fell to the floor amid an armful of freshly chopped logs.

The girls in black wasted no time scrambling back out the windows but the pale girl remained behind. She slowly, cautiously approached the fireplace, recoiling from the flames. Tears dripped from her pink eyes. She reached out her slender fingers, and caressed one of the logs. “Goodbye, sister.”

Then, the girl made her way back out to the woods. The dryad planted her feet, and raised her arms high above her head. Her limbs stretched and blossomed into the pale flowers of a pink dogwood tree. A breeze-like sigh passed through her leaves.

Her revenge was complete.