Thud. Thud. Thud.

She slowly turned her head towards the door. Her head fuzzy, fear entering her brown eyes. She began to shake, sweat dripping down her forehead. Blood dripped from her hand and soaked her clothes. She didn't know how she got into this.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The pounding continued. Her breathing began to shallow as the thuds got more insistent. She sat next to the bed, facing away from the door, towards the boy laying colorless and still. She didn't know what happened or what she saw except red. It happened so fast. They stood trapped in the room one second and the next, blood coated the wooden floor. Everything was red.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

They began to get more insistent. She sat crouched next to the lifeless body, praying for everything to work out, waiting for the door to unlock.

Then, all was silent. One minute. Five minutes. Ten. No sound. She stood still and then walked towards the door. Her feet making small bloody prints.

BANG!

It was loud enough to be a shotgun blast. She flew back, turning away from the door. Then, the door unlocked and opened slowly, creaking as an empty hallway came into view.

Silence.

She stepped out of the room and into the hallway. To her left, there was a single lamp, dimly lit, but bright enough to see ahead. On her right, a single set of stairs. She stepped toward the railing, creaking from the pressure and saw the stairs spiraling down, not seeing the ground. She took a step back with heavy breaths. She put her hand on the wall to steady herself but felt something wet. Pulling her hand back, she held it in front of the lamp. Her eyes widened at the sight of it. It was thick and dark, but not blood and it stained her hand. Many questions began to arise.

What is this? What was that thudding? Where am I?

The questions continued to ram into her head. She knew she had to continue, so she took a few shaky steps forward, staying away from the wall. The light seemed to stretch far. She continued walking for what felt like hours until she came across another door. She stared at it, body beginning to shake. She didn't know if she should open, but the feeling of wanting to escape slowly began to creep into her. She reached out to the doorknob and turned it. Her breath caught as the door opened actually opened. She didn't think it would. She slowly pushed it open, creaking as the room got wider in her vision. The room was dark, with wooden floors and walls. Another lamp was dimly lit on the wall in front of her. She was looking around the room and then, she gasped loudly.

A black figure that was hunched over what looked like a body, turned its head towards her, its bright red eyes shining the room, but that wasn't what chilled her to the bones. It was the face that was mutilated beyond recognition and blood that was dripping from the figure's mouth. She wanted to begin backing away from what was in front of her, but a blood-curdling scream escaped from her. A deafening road came from the black figure's mouth as it rapidly began to approach her. She quickly turned her around and ran straight down the hallway. The black figure charged after her at an alarming speed, its rags hanging loosely off of it.

The girl saw the stairs and sprinted towards them and bounded down the stairs, running faster with every creak of the step. She could hear the growling of the figure behind her, but before she could turn, a force pushed her and the last thing she saw was black smoke and the last thing she felt was suffocation before gasping one last time.

A second later, her entire demeanor changed. She got up, straightened her back, cracking it loudly, rolled her shoulder, twisted her neck to get rid of the cricks and let a huff of breath. Her skin began to grey and crack.

Then she slowly turned around and walked out the door, leaving the dead boy behind to rot, leaving the mutilated faced body in the darkroom and leaving with the girl who once ran with fear. A sick smile slowly spreading across her lips as her now bright red eyes illuminated the dark path.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.