{"id":264464,"date":"2026-07-15T02:08:52","date_gmt":"2026-07-14T23:08:52","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/i-woke-up-a-final-girl-john-durgin\/"},"modified":"2026-07-15T02:08:52","modified_gmt":"2026-07-14T23:08:52","slug":"i-woke-up-a-final-girl-john-durgin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/i-woke-up-a-final-girl-john-durgin\/","title":{"rendered":"I Woke Up A Final Girl – John Durgin"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Her shoulder burned, blood soaking through her shirt, but she didn\u2019t stop moving. She couldn\u2019t. Something made a scraping sound inside the crawl space. Then the man\u2019s greasy head appeared first, his tall body hidden in shadow. He climbed out, breathing heavily, filling the room with his rancid stench. Sabrina stared at him, steely-eyed, and stood her ground. \u201cWhy do you run from me?<\/p>\n

I\u2019m your protector, Sabrina.\u201d The way he said it, the way he looked at her, sent a chill down her spine. He truly thought he was helping her. It all made so much sense now. Why she was left alive while her friends were gutted. In his broken mind, the squatter thought he was Kenneth Hensley, back in his childhood home to watch over it.<\/p>\n

To protect it. To protect me. \u201cYou . . . you killed my friends, you son of a bitch. They did nothing to you. Why? Why did you do it?\u201d The man furrowed his brow, thick wrinkles forming on the weathered skin of his forehead. He lifted a hand toward her, reaching out with his long, dirt-caked fingernails. \u201cI saved you. Do you not understand?\u201d \u201cWhy do you keep saying that?!\u201d \u201cShh! Do you want to die? He\u2019ll hear us.\u201d She didn\u2019t know why, but she obeyed. For a second, the world went silent except for the dripping of the pipes and her heartbeat pounding in her skull.<\/p>\n

As the retched stench rolled off him, Sabrina had just long enough to finally get a good look at his build. This couldn\u2019t be the killer. Then the silence was broken by footsteps overhead. The squatter continued to shush her, but she had no intention of making noise in that moment. \u201cDon\u2019t move,\u201d he whispered. Terror locked her every muscle in place. The basement door slammed against the wall, and then she saw the black combat boots descending one step at a time, an uncomfortable pause between each one, until the killer\u2019s full body was revealed.<\/p>\n

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Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the authors. AETHON & Wicked House support the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author\u2019s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact editor@wickedhouse.com.<\/p>\n

Thank you for your support of the author\u2019s rights. Wicked House www.wickedhouse.com Print and eBook layout, formatting, and design by Joe Hempel. Cover art provided by Covers By Christian (Christian Bentulan). Published by Wicked House (an AETHON imprint) Wicked House is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author\u2019s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.<\/p>\n

All rights reserved. OceanofPDF.com contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Thank You For Reading I Woke Up a Final Girl OceanofPDF.com one SABRINA CAMPBELL WOKE to the sound of her own pulse, the boards under her face rough and cold.<\/p>\n

Then came the pain behind her eyes, a deep, pulsing throb that made her world tilt on its side. She sat up. The room swayed like a boat in choppy waters.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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