Haunted Hallways

Thunder rolled. The ground rocked. And the fierce percussion shook the floor beneath Jenny like the hammering fists of imprisoned demons. The house was alive with the flash of lightning giving the room the disorienting feel of a carnival funhouse. And moving to the beat of the ceaseless storm were the approaching sounds of Vera.
Every wet slap of her bare foot was followed by the heavy scrape of something being drug along behind as she continued to make her awful way up the staircase. Something broken. Something burdensome.
At last, one pale, soiled hand clutched the wooden railing at the top of the stairs and a dark crown of sodden hair rose unsteadily into view.
Vera stood on legs that swayed as if struggling against a powerful tide. Her burial gown clung to her wasted, storm soaked body and fell in muddy shreds around her dirty bare feet shedding grimy drops of cemetery rain onto the floor.
The temperature in the room dropped fast. Jenny was frozen with fright. Tears of ice burned her cheeks. Her mouth was wrung dry and her throat was squeezed tight.
Vera lurked. Horribly hunchbacked. Breathing heavily. Her face turned toward the dark hall where Chris slept inside his bedroom.
Jenny sat huddled in the corner as she watched Vera slowly shuffle across the living room. Each laborious step followed by the terrible whisper of her diseased leg on the carpet like something she'd brought along to share.
Vera stuck one moist, waxen hand out, wrapped a gnarled fist around the knob of the door and quietly pushed it open.
Jenny gasped.
Vera stopped.
Time slowed.
Jenny screamed inside her head.
The dead girl's breath frosted the air like a graveyard fog.
Deep within the haunted hallway Vera turned her stiff neck toward Jenny.