Forever a Ghost ✓

Abigail A. Springland

The hand holding. Oh God, his hand is nice in mine. Comforting. Safe.

I wish we held hands before this day. Under different circumstances. He's probably not looking at it like I am- by which I mean... I'd hold his hand under any circumstance, life threatening or not- but it's okay.

Currently, we walk through the desolate halls. I hear nothing but our footsteps and breathing. No extra footsteps. Not a single extra sound that isn't produced by us three. We walk aimlessly since we don't quite know our way around, but we stay close together. My weapon is drawn- a sharp longsword (how do I know what type of sword it is?)- and I look to my friends to see their weapons are glued to their hands as well.

As we walk, Matt slowly inches closer to me until our arms are touching. This action makes me bashful, my cheeks growing hot, and once again our hands are interlaced. Markus doesn't notice, and I'm quite thankful because I don't want to explain to him what's happening between Matt and I. I don't even know how to explain it. What are we? Why are we holding hands in a situation like this? ...Why don't I want to let go of his hand?

"Guys... We could be looking through this place for hours searching for the office. We can't keep going at this pace," Markus sighs. Matt nods.

"So, what do you suppose we do then?" I question.

"I don't know. We shouldn't split up, I've watched enough horror movies to know that's a bad idea," Markus shrugs. "We've already been walking at a pretty quick pace. We could be going in the wrong direction for all we know."

"Ugh," I sigh, "I don't know, guys. It feels like we'll never find it."

As we pause in the hall, deep in thought on what to do now, we hear a stampede of footsteps coming from both in front of and behind us. The footsteps progressively get louder and I flash Matt an anxious glance. "Not again," Markus sighs. "Go!"

But it's too late. The footsteps are nearing too close as we stay there, panicked. There's four doors. Four options.

Matt chooses for me. He shoves me into one of the doors, but it leads to a cramped room. Too small for even two people. A closet, possibly. What even is the use of this room, considering it seems to be empty. Matt squeezes my hand tightly, looking back as the group of footsteps grows even closer, and I hold my breath as fear overtakes my body. He looks back to me, letting go of my hand and shutting the door, and the footsteps run right past my door after merely six agonizing seconds.

I hope to God he was able to find safety.

Releasing the breath I was holding, I stand there in the darkness in the cramped space, making sure no more footsteps were coming. When it seems I'm in the clear, I reach for the door handle.

There is none.

"What the-" I whisper, feverishly searching the door for a door handle, a door knob... Something. It's still not there. I push at the door, but it's to no avail.

So I knock. I bang on the door until my hands hurt, hoping that someone will hear me... Even an enemy. I can probably escape an enemy as soon as they open the door. My thoughts are interrupted by a pair of footsteps moving closer to me and the door opening. I instinctually move my hand to my sword, ready to swing it, but meet eyes with Matt. He smirks at me.

"Got trapped?"

"Guess so," I say, taken aback a little at his somewhat humorous demeanor at a time like this. "Are you okay? How were you able to get away so quickly? And where's Markus?"

"Calm down, it's okay. Markus is in one of the rooms. And I made a run for the one across the hall, which did have a handle."

I exhale with relief, "okay, good. Let's find Markus, then."