My goal for this piece of writing was to make my writing more “scary” and a bit less funny and cheerful.
The sky was dark. Dark like the ocean after sunset. Pitch back. It was cold and misty. My exhales faded into the smoggy haze. The crimson flowers along the path hung their heads. Had they had a bad day? I continued to walk another few meters when I heard a rustle in the shrubbery, further down the street. I kept walking, thinking it was just my imagination. However, the sound crept closer and closer. I began to run, realising this was not a figment of my nightmares. I shouted while frantically trying to get myself out of grave danger.