Hello, my name is Immunity. I am 17 years old and live alone in an old flat in London. One day, I met a small girl, and broke something precious to her. Now she wants it back.


1. She's Coming

I hid in the kitchen, underneath my second-hand table, draped with a foodstained sheet. I had been eating dinner when it had begun. An ominous knocking at my door.

I knew who was there right away, of course. She had warned me time and time again, in many ways. E-mail, letter and postcard, graffiti on my wall, anything her twisted mind could think of. I was stupid to think I would be safe.

She starts calling for me.

"Immu? Immu? I want to sing a lullaby to you, like you used to do for me. Immu? Where's your bow now?" Her voice, eerie and broken, wafted through my tiny flat, accompanied by her slow, deliberate footsteps.

I hid down further.

"Immu? Let's have a shooting match. I know you're good at it. Immu? I know someone who would like to see you again. I know lots of people who have missed you. Do you want to meet them? I'll invite them in."

I heard running footsteps, as soon as they faded I ducked back out. I had to get away from them, away from here. I also reeked of sweat, which also didn't help. She probably smelled her way here, I hadn't washed for ages. Washing. The bathroom! I would hide in the bathroom.

My bathroom was really hard to find. It was in my wardrobe, which was quite strange, but now I couldn't be more overjoyed about my queer toilet.

So I sprinted around my house, threw open my wardrobe and dived into my bath. I dug down deeper into it, and threw some towels on me, and pulled shut the shower curtain. It was the perfect place, but even that thought couldn't calm my pumping heart and the vice of fear on my head.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps. Lots and lots of footsteps. At least 40 people must be there. They walked at the same pace, while a lone voice called out to me.

"Immu, Immu, Immu? Where are you? Immu, Immu, Immu? I want to play with you."

I bit my lip, and peeked out of the towels for a short second.

I wish I didn't.

Towering above me, was a figure I was sure was dead, dead and buried in the ground. I stifled a scream, and burrowed back underneath the towels.

"It's just an hallucination..." I reassured myself. Yet I knew, it wasn't just that.

It was brought on by HER.

That's when I noticed the thud. The footsteps were getting closer, drawn to that figure like a magnet. I had to get rid of it. Summoning up my courage, I peeked out. The figure was gone, replaced by my cat. He was quite a normal cat, with black-and-white patches and big green eyes. He meowed at me, as if in greeting, gestured at me to follow, and jumped off the bathtub. I had noticed that the footsteps had stopped, so I followed him out.

The floor was stained red. I don't know how. My cat looked triumphantly at me, purring loudly. I hissed at him to stop, and knelt down to inspect the floor. The red was blood. Rivers and rivers of blood. I gulped, and stared back at my cat. He winked at me, and that simple gesture filled me with dread. Who was this cat? Did I ever really know him?

A noise caused me to jump. A squeaky, creaking noise like a door opening.

A door opening.

Slowly, dreading the thing I was to find there, I turned around, and came face to face with a girl and her cohorts.


She raised her gun, aimed it at my head and pulled the trigger.


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