2. The door. Close it behind you.
"Inside!" you shout to Jesse. She turns immediately and flings open the door the rest of the way inward. You quickly follow her through, into the dark interior.
You wheel and slam the door shut. Feeling for some sort of locking mechanism in the darkness against the cold metal of the door, you can't seem to find anything. But there has to be something --
There's a low click from behind you and the room is suddenly illuminated by a soft glow. Jesse holds the lighter in her hand, sweeping it across her chest, the light casting weird shadows on the walls and floor. Craning your neck, you see what looks to be a heavy wooden plank propped up in the corner with a bunch of other random odds and ends.
Before you can open your mouth to say anything, the slithering sound draws right on the other side of the door, and stops.
You hold your breath.
The impact is greater than you were expecting, though you braced yourself hard. You are nearly thrown clear. You hear a frustrated low hissss from the other side.
"The beam! Jesse! Hurry!"
Jesse spies it and runs to the corner, perhaps ten feet away. As she runs you see a flight of stairs leading up.
The second impact comes, and this time you've adjusted yourself to better withstand it. But still, it forces your planted feet back a full twelve inches, scraping along the dusty floor.
"Jesse!"
Wham. A third attempt. This one buckles the metal in the center of the door inward for a second and rattles your teeth in your skull. You grit them together and brace yourself again.
The fourth impact doesn't come. Your eyes flicker to the bare gray light coming from the thin line under the door.
There is a tearing, sucking sound from outside, roughly at neck level. You raise your eyes to see a hole in front of your face being sucked outward somehow, the metal creaking and tearing. A depression is forming. Your mind flashes back to those holes you saw in the dumpster and nearby brick.
Jesse comes up behind you, dragging the heavy beam. It's almost eight feet long. "I can brace it!" she shouts. "Move out of the way!"
"No, wait!" you say, continuing to hold the door.
Jesse's eyes widen. "Wait?!"
The hole in the door rips open and outward in the center, the edges jagged and expanding as the sucking, tearing sound grows in volume. The hole is about as big as an apple.
You take a step back. Something dark moves on the other side. A great, lidless eye presses up against the hole, the pupil narrowing as it spies the flame of the lighter.
You raise your arm and fire your flaregun into the hole and eye at point blank range, making sure to turn your head and shield Jesse.
The sound is quite satisfying.
"Now! Brace the door!"
Jesse moves forward. "Help me!"
You grab one end and slide the beam against the handle, Jesse bracing the other against the corner of the small storage room. You give the beam a heavy smack, and it doesn't budge.
"Perfect," you say. "Let's get out of here."
The two of you hurry up the rickety wooden stairs. At the top of the flight, there's a closed door. It's not locked. You proceed through into a hallway running down away from you. Behind you, the door reads EXIT.
The walls of the hallway are old, the paint chipped and peeling. The floor is tiled linoleum. The light of the fire only allows you to see about ten feet. A light fixture, old and broken, hangs nearby.
"Is this place abandoned?" Jesse asks. "I mean, you know. Before."
"Looks like it might have been," you say.
You proceed forward down the narrow hall. No doors, no windows. You come to a intersection. The hall continues forward, and splits left and right.
Suddenly you are reminded of something. The feeling passes, like Deju Vu.
she was behind you
Down along the forward path, you can see graffiti on the left wall. It reads THE NO FACED MAN WAS HERE. HE IS WATCHING YOU. The writing is in blue. Next to it is a crude drawing of what looks to be some sort of eye. It looks familiar. The eye is done in the same blue as the writing, but the fire around it is done in red.
You motion to the writing. "You see that?"
Jesse squints. "Yeah. What's it mean?"
"I don't know," you answer slowly. "But I don't like that you can see it."
Jesse shakes her head. "Let's not go that way."
*******************************
1. No. Fear is to be faced. You won't let some vague writing change your course. Continue forward.
2. Go left.
3. Go right.
*******************************
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Topic: The Ends (Read 59157 times)