Please tell me what you think of this story by leaving a comment on the avatar (Profile pic) for this story located in my "Dolls and Photos for stories" Gallery. Thanks! BASED ON A DIFFERENT HORROR.

~Spidey.

Another night, another babysitting job. Meaning another dollar, as the saying goes. I'm McKenna, or Kenna as everyone but my dad calls me. This particular December night, I was babysitting for a little girl by the name of Louise, who was 7. At the time I was only 14, so pretty much any strange noise I heard made me jump. As the night starts, I come over at 5:00, like I normally would, talk to the parents, and wave them out. I make dinner for the two of us, then we cuddle up under a blanket to watch "Cinderella," which was her favorite. 

About half-way through the movie, Louise stirs. "I want popcorn!" She squeaks.

I laugh a bit. "popcorn sounds good. Where is it?" I ask. When she says it's in the cellar, I scooch her off my lap, stand, and go to the cellar. I grab a packet of plain microwave popcorn, and turn to make my way up the stairs, but freeze halfway. In the little window located left of the stairs, was Louise' bear. "Oh," I laugh nervously, shrugging it off. "maybe she left it outside. I'll grab it when the movie ends." I tell myself, and continue upstairs. 

I microwave the popcorn, and put it in a bowl before joining Louise on the couch again. She takes one bite of the popcorn, then scrunches up her nose. "There's no salt!" She complains. 

"Oh, alright. Where is that?" I ask

"It's in the cellar." She answers, eyes fixated on the movie.

I sigh dramatically, and then stand again to go down to the cellar. I look around in the various cabinets, relieved when I find a small white shaker with the spices. I close the cabinets, and start to make my way up the cellar. Once again, i freeze. Louise' bear, staring at me with beady eyes, now had a big, shiny, butcher knife. I do what any sane person would do, and bolt upstairs, salt still in my hands, and quickly hand it to Louise. I lock all of the doors and windows as a precaution, then sit down next to her. I start telling her that we need to leave, "Louise, we need to-" 

"Kenna, I want the butter!" She complains after putting the salt on.

I sigh once again. "Fine, but then we need to leave the house." I tell her, not wanting to explain why. I arm myself stupidly with a random blunt object; a rolling pin, and, taking shaky steps, go down to the cellar for a final time. I didn't dare look out the window as I go to the spice cabinet again, cursing myself for not asking the first time if she needed anything other than salt. But hopefully, we could leave to a neighbors after this. I quickly find a butter-like spray, turn sharply, and start for the stairs. Which were directly. Under. The window. 

What I hear next scares the shit out of me. A snicker, or some quiet, malicious laughter, outside of the window. Reluctantly, I turn, just knowing I'd see something horrific. There, was the little b.rown bear, weilding the same knife, and the same, soulless eyes. Except for one difference; the blade was soaked with a crimson, metallic liquid.

I drop the butter and get the hell out of there, shrieking as I do. "LOUISE! LOUISE!" I yell, running to the couch. My knees get weak and I fall to them at the sight of poor, sweet Louise, soaked in the blood that belonged to her. I convulse and vomit, forcing myself to my feet.I grab my phone off the counter, run out of the house, and bang on the door of her neighbor, who graciously lets me in. My voice shakes as I try to recall the details of what I just witnessed, the wife of the man already dialing the police. My ( )ain went numb, trying to figure out with all the science, all the logic in the world... how that damn bear could've gotten inside so quick.

Within 5 minutes, the police arrive with a light show of blue and red, and search the house, while Louise' parents meet me outside, almost as terrified as myself. I try to talk to them;

"I-I'm s-so sorry..." I stutter through hot tears "The... the bear, he was outside the window... in the cellar! Kn-knife, kn-knife!"

The childless mother looks up from her hands, a look of grief and confusing crossing her face. "Window? Kenna, we don't have windows in the cellar... only mirrors."