Stuff

She's close

I know she is nearby because I smell fresh blood.

The flashlight in my hand wobbles and my stomach trembles. “Oh God,” I find myself muttering, “oh God, oh God, oh my God . . . “

I slowly back closer to safety in the closet. Without sparing a second I close the door. Darkness engulfs me, but I’m not scared about that anymore. No, old Adam was scared of the dark. New Adam will love anything to get away from her, get away from Chelsea screaming and Brandon screaming and Chelsea and Brandon dying after we smelled her and Lily, hell, Lily—

Creak.

Is the door outside opening or is it just the wind? Please let it be the wind, please, please, please.

Creak. The wood tiles creak and they creak and my heart misses six beats.

I can’t control myself anymore. Not with the blood at least three, no, two feet away and the footsteps and the blood and Lily smiling and Chelsea crying and Brandon with his eyes locked in terror when he saw her and not with the fact I’m alive, why am I alive?

Creak.

Creak. Creak.

She’s getting closer and I do not like the sound of it. I inhale and I see Chelsea tripping in the hallway and us leaving her.

She’s getting closer and I can faintly taste blood. I inhale and I see Brandon taking the wrong turn and the taste of fear buried like lead in my mouth when we left him.

She’s getting closer and I want to die, why am I alive?

I inhale and I see Lily.

She’s getting closer and I see her eyes peek through the tiny gap between the hinges of the closet I dared not look at because I didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see her.

Creak. The closet door opens ever so slightly.

She’s close.

Creak.

She’s very close.

Very, very close.

I know she is nearby because I smell fresh blood.