Flash Fiction: Just Add Water

PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers. Other stories featuring the prompt can be found here.

The steps lead down to a realm of liquid. Once a hallway, now a deluge. Eyes watched, flickering between open and shut. Dark shadows swam passed.

Her heartbeat echoed throughout the house. Muscles became traitors and refused to move, blood turning hot and cold.

Knees gave way and arse hit the stairs. With all her might, she dragged her body to the platform. Safety. Away from the predators. Not even a ripple below.

Resting on her arms, oxygen passed through her lungs.

Splash. Bang. The beast landed at her feet, its jaw snapping.

Her eyelids swung open. Her bedroom came into focus. Bed sheets wet. Now she knew for sure crocodiles lived under her bed. She’ll wait until morning to pee.