What happened to Princess? – PART TWO OF MY HORROR STORY!!!

Please read the following carefully:

Hi guys, so I have written a short Horror story called What happened to Princess? And I actually posted it around two months ago, so if you’re a new follower, then you may not have heard of it. That’s why I’m going to show you part one and the new one that I have written part two. For all the people who have already read part one when I posted it, you can read it again for a recap before reading part two.

Also aapologies to everyone who read part one a while back and asked for a part two, I know this is a really late response!

WHAT HAPPENED TO PRINCESS? – PART ONE!

Mrs Collins pulled on a maroon jacket, and zipped it up to her chin. Then she grabbed her umbrella and sauntered out of the lime green door, humming a made up tune. 

Rain pattered down, dropping on her nose as she rushed down the street with long strides.

Mrs Collins crossed the road and went up to number 4, where her neighbour, Miss Tracey lived. She knocked on the bright red door loudly, tapped her foot on the stone path and looked around impatiently. There was a click and the door opened, revealing a young woman with raven black hair, who Mrs Collins pushed past gently and made her way into Miss Tracey’s living room.

They only knew each other for two years, but the bond between them was as strong as the bond between two sisters. 

Mrs Tracey, who stood by the door, melted away her astonishment and went after her neighbour. The curtains and windows were closed and locked and the pair seated themselves on two large armchairs. 

“Mrs Collins!” Exclaimed Miss Tracey, her eyes widening. “What brings you here at 5 am?” 

“It’s about Lilliane.” Mrs Collins sighed. Miss Tracey understood at once. Lilliane was Mrs Collins’ only child, who died at the age of five. Fifteen years had passed, but the sadness still glowed in Mrs Collins eyes. She often visited her friend as a source of comfort. 

Mrs Collins smiled weakly. “Today’s her birthday. My lil girl would be twenty now!” she murmured. 

“Tea?” Miss Tracey inquired, raising a silver tray with two china tea cups. 

Mrs Collins nodded and put her head in her hands and Miss Tracey went off to boil the water. 

A few seconds after she left, Mrs Collins raised her head and bit her lip thoughtfully. 

When her child had died, the newspapers were all over the investigation. Liliane didn’t die naturally. She was murdered.

Worse of all, Mrs Collins knew who the murderer was.

She knew very well who the murderer was and she chose to keep the identity of them secret. 

Miss Tracey returned with a pretty floral teapot and poured her friend a cup of steaming brown liquid. 

“Thank you Tracey.” Mrs Collins breathed. “Your welcome, dear. Sugar?” Miss Tracey asked, lifting a little pot. 

Mrs Collins waved a hand. “No, no, honey, if you have any please.”

Miss Tracey went out again in search of Mrs Collins’ request. 

Near to Mrs Collins’ armchair was a tiny side table, where an old rotary dial sat, gathering dust. Suddenly, the telephone buzzed in its cradle, making Mrs Collins’ jump. 

“It must be Mr Collins!” Miss Tracey yelled from the kitchen and Mrs Collins realised that she hadn’t told her husband where she had gone. She picked up the telephone and muttered into it: “Hello darling. I’m at Tracey’s.”

An unfamiliar voice replied back, “Hello mummy.

Mrs Collins froze. “Darling, what type of game is this?” she asked with a nervous chuckle. 

“What are you talking about Mummy?” A girls’ voice questioned on the other end.

“Collins, stop this.” Mrs Collins said firmly. 

There was a grunt. “Mummy, you always call me ‘princess’” the girl said sweetly. “Remember?” 

Mrs Collins slammed the phone back in its cradle and ran her fingers through her greying hair. 

Then she collapsed into an awkward heap on the ground. 

Miss Tracey appeared with a gasp and helped her back onto the armchair. 

“Oh Mrs Collins!” She exclaimed. “Whatever happened? Are you ill? Here have some tea!” she thrust a cup into Mrs Collins’ hands, took out a jar of honey and carefully spooned some into the hot drink. 

She patiently waited for Mrs Collins to slurp it all down. 

“It’s Lilliane, she was speaking to me, on the phone.” Mrs Collins gasped. 

“But it can’t be!” Miss Tracey squealed, her hand flying to her mouth. 

“You’re right. It can’t be. I’m going crazy.” Mrs Collins whispered. “Get me some more tea please Tracey.” She held out the empty teacup.

Miss Tracey laughed. “No Mummy.

“What?!” spluttered Mrs Collins. 

Miss Tracey beamed. “Remember me?” she murmured. “Begging. Mummy, please don’t. Please Mummy.”

Mrs Collins was whisked off to the past. 

She remembered.

Getting drunk.

Grabbing a knife from the counter

Her daughter, sobbing at the wall. “Don’t do it!” the little girl screamed. “No Mummy!” 

She remembered running away. Realising what she had done. 

Mrs Collins stared at Miss Tracey. “But, but I killed you.” she said quietly. “I saw your burial. You were dead.”

Lilliane grinned. “I know. And now it’s your turn. Remember me Mummy. Remember your princess……”

End of Part one.

Now for part two that I have written recently:

WHAT HAPPENED TO PRINCESS? PART TWO:

Mrs Collins leapt up and tried to run away, but Lilliane caught her arm and squeezed it hard. Mrs Collins struggled to pull her wrist out, but Lilliane had her in an iron grip. Mrs Collins was then pushed into her seat.

“Right.” Lilliane beamed and took out a small pocket knife, sending a shiver down Mrs Collins’ spine. She ran her finger across the blade and licked her lips.

“What are you going to do to me?” trembled Mrs Collins.

Lilliane didn’t answer for a moment. Then her head jerked back, her eyes tilted sideways and her mouth moved fast, uttering words one after the other.

Mrs Collins stared, half horrified, half confused and caught a few words that Lilliane was saying.

Power. No. Kill. I need power. Kill.

A surge of confidence ran through Mrs Collins and she stood up and waved a hand in front of Lilliane’s pale face.

Nothing. She wasn’t even blinking.

Mrs Collins smiled slightly and slowly. Whatever weird thing was happening to her, Lilliane wasn’t conscious.

This was her chance.

She tiptoed to the door, took a quick look at where Lilliane stood, grimaced and rushed outside.

It was raining, hard and the air was cold. Mrs Collins slapped a hand to her forehead. “Forgot my coat.” She muttered and crossed her arms over her chest. No way was she going back!

She crossed the street and passed her small house. If she went there, Lilliane would find her. Mrs Collins coughed and tears pricked in her eyes. Was Lilliane really back? Her daughter, Lilliane?

She was taken back to the past. To the beach. A black haired two year old baby waddled up to her. Innocent with pink cheeks. She held a small red busket and spade and squatted down on the sand. Mrs Collins couldn’t help but pick up baby Lilliane and hold her tight. Baby Lilliane giggled, revealing two tiny teeth. “Mama!” Baby Lilliane screamed to the sky.

The beach disappeared. A table layed out for a kids party stood in front of the teary Mrs Collins. Five year old Lilliane was standing on a chair and blew out the five stripy candles on her fairy themed cake. When she had done, she blushed red and looked around at all her little friends who were stuffing themselves with fruit and chocolate and watching her eagerly.

The next memory was Mrs Collins and five year old Lilliane curled up in a dozen blankes, laying on a big sofa and watching The Lion King together. Mrs Collins was hugging and kissing her daughter every few seconds.

Then the sad memory disappeared and Mrs Collins opened her eyes and saw the wide blue and black building in front of her. She had arrived. The Police Station.

She pushed open the heavy glass door with a quick look behind her shoulder. Several people walked past her, crying, screaming or staring at the metal circles that chained their hands together. Mrs Collins dodged past an angry, handcuffed lady who tried to grab her arm. Mrs Collins shuddered. If the Police ever found out she was a murderer….

She shook her head and rushed over to a counter, where a blonde haired woman, in her late twenties sat, tapping away at a large computer. She craned her neck around the screen and smiled.

“Hi there, how can I help?” She chirped.

Mrs Collins bit her lip. “It’s hard to explain..”

“I won’t think you’re crazy..”

“Can’t I see an Officer or a detective about this?” Mrs Collins asked, looking around worriedly.

The lady grinned. “I am an Officer! Well kind of. My name is Pippa. But I prefer Pip.”

“I’m Madison Collins. And I would like to speak to one of your detectives or proper officers please.” Mrs Collins didn’t trust this bubbly woman with her case.

“Sure, Madison.” Pip said. “Lemme see..”

Mrs Collins stared impatiently as Pip clicked the mouse a few times.

“Our detective, Officer McKay is using the ‘chat room’ now.” Pip explained. “He’s nearly done.”

“Well can you please tell him to hurry up!” exclaimed Mrs Collins with a sigh.

Pip shrugged. “Can’t rush him. So, while we’re waiting, why’d you come here anyways? Like what’s the case?”

“Is there a waiting room?” Mrs Collins said instead.

“You can wait here.” Said Pip quickly. “And anyway, you didn’t answer my question!”

“Someone is chasing me. She wants to kill me.” Mrs Collins replied eventually in a frightened tone. She looked behind her and caught a glimpse of a familiar dark haired lady.

“Oh. That’s scary! Ma’am? You’ve gone pale!”

Mrs Collins almost screamed. “Hide me!”

“Scuse me?” Pip said, looking puzzled.

Mre Collins rushed behind the counter and crept down near the feet of Pip’s chair.

“What are you doing?”

“She’s here!”

“Who?” whispered Pippa.

“Lilliane.”

“Who the..” started Pip but Mrs Collins cut her off with a loud shhhhh.

An awkward minute went by. Pip ripped open a pack of gum and offered a square to Mrs Collins who shook her head. Pip shrugged and popped a bright pink blob in her mouth and chewed loudly, her eyes on Mrs Collins.

“Don’t look at me.” Mrs Collins whispered.

Pip nodded, blew a bubble, popped it, clicked a few keys and her face illuminated.

“Officer McKay has finished!” She announced far too loudly. A man in a blue suit strode over to them, his badge glinting as he walked. He had a dull face, like a boring Science Teacher, and greying hair.

“Pippa.” He boomed. “Why did you call for me?” He stared down at Mrs Collins who’s nose was almost touching the floor. And stared. “Who are you and what on earth are you doing down there?”

Mrs Collins plastered a fake smile on her face. “Hiding Sir.”

He turned a questioning glance to Pip.

“She’s hiding from a crazy murderer who’s chasing her.” Pip mumbled.

“I see.”

Mrs Collins leapt up. “Shall we go Sir? To the interrogation room?” Officer McKay gave her an Are you sure you’re not crazy look and sighed.

*****

The next minute, they were both seated in two metal chairs in a dimly lit room.

“It’s my daughter Officer, she died fifteen years ago.”

Officer McKay stopped her, took out a notepad and lazily flipped it to an empty page.

“Your daughter’s name?”

“Lilliane Collins.”

He scribbled it down. “Killed?”

Mrs Collins prayed that the officer would not notice the red guilt that crept into her cheeks. “Yes Officer, she was murdered fifteen years ago, and I.. I think she’s alive.”

“Alive!” Spluttered Officer McKay. “Are you in the right mind Ma’am?! You know, people who die cannot come alive again.”

Mrs Collins glared. “I very well know that, thank you.” she snapped. “But I truly saw her. My Lilliane. Alive. Walking.”

Officer McKay puffed. “And what about the murderer that’s after you?” he lay the notepad on the desk in front of him.

“Officer, Lilliane is the person after me! She wants to murder me! She’s alive and..”

“Hold up a second.” The Officer interrupted and looked up into her eyes. “You’re telling me that your dead daughter has come alive again and is chasing you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying Officer!” Mrs Collins exclaimed desperately.

Someone rapped three times on the door and Pip walked in. “Sorry to interrupt Sir, but this lady wants to see you.”

A chill ran down Mrs Collins spine.

“Can she wait?” Officer McKay said impatiently.

“No Sir, she says she’s come for Mrs Collins.”

“Let her in then. ” Officer McKay ordered.

Pip murmered something to the visitor and dashed off.

And in swept Lilliane.

*****

She was wearing a pretty floral blouse and blue skirt, her green eyes twinkling beneath a thin curve of mascara. Slashes of pink lip gloss lay on her lips and on her black hair was tied into a high bun. She looked like a normal, friendly and beautiful woman. But she wasn’t.

“I’ve come for my Mummy.” she said gently. “My Mother is always wandering off places.”

What a wonderful little game you’re playing, Mrs Collins thought, But they’re never, never going to believe you!

“I see.” Officer McKay said.

“No, you can’t let her take me!” Mrs Collins yelled suddenly. “She’s the one chasing me. She wants to kill me!”

“Oh Mummy!” Lilliane laughed softly and as if Mrs Collins wasn’t in her presence, Lilliane turned to Officer McKay and whispered, “Mummy is always making up funny little stories! Sometimes, she thinks I’m a stranger. It’s her old age, dementia, you know?”

“Huh, yes, that explains it.” Officer McKay murmured. “She said that you died fifteen years ago and now you came alive!” The pair giggled together.

“She must’ve been remembering Sophia. My sister who died at the age of five.” explained Lilliane. “But don’t worry about her anymore, I’m taking her to the Care Home this afternoon.”

“LIAR!” roared Mrs Collins. “I’m never going to go with her!”

*******

Mrs Collins was being half dragged by two burly officers. They were being led by Lilliane and Officer McKay who were chatting like they knew eachother all their lives.

“Help me!” Mrs Collins shouted to the wide eyed, puzzled Pip as they passed the counter. Pip chewed a sticky piece of bubblegum and did nothing.

Soon Mrs Collins was bundled up in the back of Lilliane’s green car.

“Ta ta!” Lilliane called to Officer McKay who grinned and waved back.

They drove through the busy streets of London, Lilliane gritting her teeth as she steered and glancing in the rear mirror every few seconds.

Mrs Collins sniffed. “Where are you taking me?”

Lilliane smiled. “The Care home.”

“Which care home?” asked Mrs Collins, wiping tears from her cheeks.

Lilliane turned around to face her.

“It’s called DEATH.”

The end of the lonnngggg part two!

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it and got the chilllllssssss.

I would lovvveee any feedback or questions you have, and part three will be out pretty soon!

Published by H.R Phoenix, Author

H.R Phoenix is the owner and creator of Penable. She likes to inspire people to write and is an Author of a poetry book and the Penable magazine 2020. When she's not working on a short story or writing awesome Penable Posts, she enjoys spending time with her two cute kittens..

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